Home, Loneliness and Back To Basics

Monday, July 23
it’s been a while again, hasn’t it?

and no matter how often i say it out loud, write it down, type it out ... i still end up leaving this space alone for far too long. never forgetting, but more ignoring. procrastinating. neither of which i’m proud to admit.

my old pal, chlo, wrote a post recently about blogging, in its traditional form (or the lack thereof in our modern and ever-evolving industry) and it really struck a chord with me. hit home.

literally.

for the past week, i’ve been feeling extremely overwhelmed, uncertain and despondent. and to be quite honest, when it comes to that, there’s only one thing for it ~ again ... home. i remember how much upset and resentment we felt when my parents (mum & step dad, for those who are new here!) decided to uproot and sell our family house. i say ‘house’ because whilst, yes, we grew up there, made memories, shared so much love and laughter, learned lessons which have shaped entire fragments of ourselves today; those four walls were just that. walls. beautiful walls at that, but still merely bricks, nonetheless. and the rest of that stuff i mentioned? the good, profound shit which makes us feel warm and fuzzy? well, that all comes from the people inside them.
what i'm wearing

dress | zara
bag | gucci (similar here and here)
sunglasses | rayban (c/o next)
trainers | nike

in a few weeks, my best friend (otherwise known as my big, baby-faced and A* sister) moves away. travelling the world and learning invaluable lessons amongst unfamiliar cultures. in a few weeks we’ll be leaving our little, could-be-hoovered-more-but-that’s-how-we-like-it hovel and taking our next steps ...

her? back to brighton for a pit stop until the inevitable journey begins.

me? well, to be honest i’m not really sure. in the unlikely scenario i find a place by then, i’ll be up in london for the foreseeable. and if not? back to brighton, and mum’s welcoming arms with sis, until the right one comes up.

but even then, i’ll be living alone. don’t forget working alone since i took the plunge into full-time freelancing back in march. this, to me, is pretty scary. i’m not gunna lie by saying i’m the *most* emotionally stable human on the planet and my mood swings leave a lot to be desired as well. the idea of having an entire place to myself, on one hand, fills me with excitement and enthusiasm, whilst simultaneously spiralling my being into a pit of anxiety and despair.


i like being alone, but nobody wants to be lonely. and my gosh, is there a difference.

lately, loneliness has manifested itself whilst being alone and that’s where the worry sets in when the relocation finally does happen. living with a stranger is just not an option and living with a friend has not really worked out in terms of timings. do i go back to a more ‘traditional’ job, involving physical, human interaction? get a pet? (animals are far superior to humans, no offence) or, as my inner-conscience keeps yelling, suck it up and stop crying ... the latter being easier said than done.

change is amazing. but also emotionally draining. as is losing your sister to exotic countries across the world, but that’s just coming from a selfish POV. for a while i’ve been suppressing these uncertainties and sadnesses, so as to not fall behind and become unproductive. i’ve been letting stuff slide, which has actually upset me; focusing myself on work, other people and their problems, all the while ignoring my own. i’m now realising that probably wasn’t the best idea, since it’s all releasing itself in one, giant flood and what was once ‘liv’ has been replaced by a withered and energy-less puddle, who mainly thinks about bed and gin (the best things in life, alongside animals tbh).
the reason i’m back here releasing all my feels to those of you who have patiently stuck around throughout my absence, is exactly because of what chlo’s post reminded me ~ why i started. this blog began as a creative and emotional outlet during the peak of my battle with anxiety. a safe place of self-expression, honesty, sanctuary and usually some sort of badly told anecdote.

my online home.

and aside from spending time with my family and receiving all the tlc from mumma ~ there’s no other place i’d rather be right now.

how about you?

poem source (from handwriting) here