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When an apartment isn’t quite like Home…

March 3, 2010

Home… I want to go Home. I miss my Home. I say this as I’m sitting on the couch in my own apartment, which is not and probably will never achieving that feeling of being my Home. It’s the contained area in which I store my furniture and such. My Home, is unfortunately a place where I cannot always be. Being all down in the dumps today, yearning to be somewhere that I cannot, has me thinking about what it is that makes something feel like is Home…

Last night I stopped by Mr. Rawr’s house after work to pick up the power cord for my laptop, among other things that I failed to collect before leaving for the week. He wasn’t there and wasn’t going to be for a few hours, so I decided not to stay too long. I had about 40 minutes to wait for the next bus to go back to my apartment at that point. I ended up waiting in the kitchen while the slave of one of Mr. Rawr’s housemates cooked. Sitting on the counter and conversing with someone who has become a dear friend was the most relaxing part of my evening. If it had been up to me, I would have loved to stayed and completely decompressed, going to be comfortable with my walls down and no hint of anxiety. At that moment, Mr. Rawr’s house felt like my Home and I began to realize it has become my Home….

Home is where my “Family” is.

Home is where I feel wanted, accepted, and loved.

Home is somewhere I don’t have to worry about if I belong or am in the way.

Home is where I am comfortable in the nude.

Home is where I let my mental and emotional walls down.

Home is where I feel safe.

Mr. Rawr’s house has become my home. It’s the only place right now where I could go and not question a single one of those points. When I am gone, even only for a few days while allowing others to get their alone time, I miss it so much. I miss everyone… Marquette, Pony, Leonis, Noan, Pocket… and of COURSE my Mr. Rawr. I begin to feel disconnected and am usually more apt to my anxiety (primarily based on that fact that if I start feeling anxious, being someplace like my apartment makes me feel so alone anyways… which only amplifies any anxiety I’m feeling). I miss cooking dinner, while I don’t get the chance to cook so much anymore when I’m over (weekdays, people have usually already eaten by the time I’m back from work). But at my apartment, there’s only me to cook for which is one of the most ungratifying feelings ever. There’s no one to clean for. I loathe the idea of having to clean up after my roommate, because I don’t get that sense that it is appreciated, that my service is desired and recognized as I do when I’m over at the House.

When I’m at my apartment I begin to feel less and less like I have a place, less like a submissive and less in service. The switch between the two headspaces and two versions of myself is harsh. Usually after a day or two I eventually get to the point where I’m okay being the independent version of myself and stop feeling so mopey or depressed. After a few days the tears stop, I can return to sleeping in my room (if I’m missing the House I have a tendency to sleep on my couch instead of in my room.. something about making my stay at my apartment feel temporary and that I’m only staying the night there instead). But then when it comes time to go back to visit my Sir, I feel different. I have to tell myself it’s okay to let down those walls and it’s almost like I’ve taken a few steps backwards. Where as the weeks where I am there on a perpetual basis I can maintain that openness and continue to make progress, as he desires. Coming back to Mr. Rawr’s after having spent a week or so at my apartment makes me feel like I’m entering a dark room that I’ve only recently left but after spending time in an adjacent bright room, I can no longer see. I know that I know the contents of the room, but in the dark it takes a while for me to readjust and find my bearings.

I don’t like the juggle. It reminds me too much of LA. I spend the first 14 years of my life switching between to households every other week. Two households that didn’t ever communicate, had completely different rules and expectations. I like stability. I like knowing where I am, where I am going, and having a routine….

The question is, how do I achieve that desired stability while being sensitive to the changing needs and schedules of others in the situation????

One Comment leave one →
  1. March 5, 2010 1:17 pm

    That’s always hard, especially if it triggers you for your past. Do you have photos/items/clothes of those you love at your new “home” of sorts that you could put in your apartment to remind you of that connection?

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