I kind of drifted for a bit. I'd just get up and go and wander around blindly, didn't really want to do anything or talk to anyone.
It's fair to say that I've definitely beaten the odds there and I'm still carrying on with life. Being told that there may not be much more we could do and even having some doctors even telling me that I wouldn't be around too long (quite wrongly, if I do say so myself) meant that I had been forced to face my own mortality and decide to defy anyone who said that I can't. I don't fear it, I've made my peace with certain eventualities but at the same time, it's made me more determined to keep going and keep making my own decisions and choices.
When I moved from my old flat, I vowed to make changes to how I lived. Stopping myself from destructive habits and cutting energy drinks out. I still remember when I moved here. After 5 years in Abbeydale, the main thing that hit me was just how quiet it was. Being able to hear my own thoughts for the first time in months and looking out at the stars, thinking how bright they were. I've been here for nearly 6 years. Which means that after Cull Avenue, this is the longest I've ever stayed in a place. Probably the first real "home" I've made for myself (aside from family homes), Jace and our guinea pigs.
I do have fond memories of the other places I've lived in, even the YMCA, but now that I think about it, the HMO (house of multiple occupancy) or flat life never really suited me. While it's nice to have a door you can lock behind you, I think that life in our bungalow has been better for our needs, having a real kitchen helps too.
I'm just hoping that the whole pandemic situation improves. I want to believe that eventually things will get better. I want to hope that we can get some kind of normality and we can start doing things again.
Guess there's a reason I've got my "hope" tattoo isn't there?
Til all are one
Wendy xx
