Home is not a place but rather a feeling

 

 

  It is hard to believe that in my present situation I am able to gain any insight or that I am overwhelmed with positivity and promise. I have surprised myself with how fast I put on my big girl panties and took charge of my situation.

 

    As far back as I can remember I have been waiting on someone to save me. As a child I thought if I could learn how to communicate with others telepathically that they would hear my thoughts and whisk me away. Nobody ever heard me though. I was offered refuge with my grandparents every so often and I clung to my grandmother like she was the last life vest in a world where there was an over abundance of vests; like fighting for scraps at a feast.

    When this whole situation with my ex began I reached out once again begging someone to save me. Hoping anyone would take control of the situation and tell me what to do because I was spinning and could not stop long enough to decide on a direction to go in. But people are tired of saving a grown woman that does not know how to save herself and I am so thankful those doors were closed. I am truly grateful I am being forced to rely on myself because in the end people are temporary and the only person you can truly rely on IS yourself.

    My subconscious has always been strong. Between my conscious and subconscious, I sometimes feel like there are two people inside of me. Part of me is weak and in need of rescuing where as the other part, my subconscious, is ready for anything thrown at it. It is a protector and a guardian, pushing through storms as they come; giving silent encouragement to my conscious mind to give it strength to carry on. Without the solid foundation the quiet part of my mind offers I don’t think I would be in as good a place as I am right now.

 

    My faith in God is shaky. At this point in my life he is just one more person I cried out to for help that turned their back at me. But what if that was the point? Like teaching a baby to walk or a small child to ride a bike? Maybe the bitterness in my mouth clouds the reality for what it is; a painful and hard lesson to learn.

 

    It is the latter I am putting stock in. when you’re helping a baby to walk you may let go of them but you never leave their side, always ready to catch them. You move obstacles out of the way that may trip them or furniture they may bump their heads on. When teaching a child to ride their bike you may let go but you continue to run alongside them; cheering them on and prepared to catch them or steady the bike if it starts to wobble.

 

    The proof to this is in the pudding; I just need to set aside my negative feelings in order to see it clearly. My mind has been so clouded the past few years; like a polluted city filled with smog and noise. Metaphorically speaking, this separation with my husband has been like moving my mind to the country. I am healing.

 

    I remember a time, from the age of 19 until about 26, that I was NOT codependent. I was in school, working full time, and raising my two oldest. I paid my own bills, had my own place and car; and did not need much from anyone except the company of good friends. Now, at 32 I wonder what happened to her? It’s like I aged backwards or regressed. I put all my faith and trust into one person; despite my history with people I am still naive when it comes to diving in head first and putting all my trust into the wrong people.

 

    Who I was before never died, she is still in there and I am being reintroduced to her as I learn to ride my bike. Doors are opening so easily for us with school and my emotional state. Within the next 6 months I will have my medical billing and coding certification making enough to support my kids. Once I am back in the work force for six months my credit score is good enough to get a home loan on my own (I had a very sweet broker walk me through all of my options and what I needed to do in order to prepare to buy a home).

 

    We can go anywhere in the united states that we want! I can finally get into a home that I will die in as I am so tired of not having roots. I may be 32 but I am so tired and feel so old. The outcome to this nightmare situation with my husband is that the kids and I will finally have stability. Once I am able to buy a home I will never move again. It will be my dream home and I will able to plant a willow to watch it grow; and once I am gone my children and grandchildren can care for the willow tree and remember me with a feeling that this is their home. That is all I want in life, to finally feel like I am home.