I’ve made some pretty huge decisions in the last few days. And as is my want I’m not sure any of them are correct. The biggest and most undoable is finally giving notice on the Mausoleum I once called ‘the happiest place I’ve ever lived’ (I wasn’t the only one that said this). I’d been umming and erring about it for some time. As I’m now travelling indefinitely it did seem stupid to hang onto. But there were as many people that told me to let it go as to keep it to ‘have something to come back to’
I can see both points. On the one hand it will save me nearly £10,000 a year in rent and as flushed as I am who wouldn’t be grateful of that? But the downside is I’m now living from my suitcase in hotels. I did it when I worked for a well known band for years and I’ve also done my share of backpacking before so I’m no stranger to this. But having no base, nowhere to call home, is by far one of the most unsettling things any human being can experience.
But I had to let it go. It’s all part of the process that is ‘letting go’. It was actually a split second that did it. Even after all that thinking. I was talking to a dear friend on Viber when she suddenly said how happy I seemed compared to when she was speaking to me in the flat a few weeks ago. The thought of those days was enough to instantly cause me to put her on hold and send an email giving notice to my landlord. That was it. It was that simple. I’d had enough about me still to foresee such a situation and left keys with another friend that was cool to empty the flat and take all my stuff to storage if I gave the green light.
That’s all being done right now as I sit at my rooftop pool wondering where I will ever call home again.
I had some happy times there but they were all too short to count for anything. I had maybe 6 good of 18 months in the ‘Riverside Love Nest’ I looked so hard to find. 33% good, or 66% shit. I like statistics, it helps me make up my mind. I paid a fortune in rent and bills alone for 12 of those months and everything there was bought new when we moved in. Everything in it and around it reminded me of those happier times. A home that was once filled with love and hope became my tomb of sorrow and despair almost overnight. The negative energy attacked me like rapid bullet fire in every corner of that Mausoleum. I shall not miss it. It’s funny how a dream can turn into nightmare at the drop of a hat, or the ordering of a removal van whilst I was ‘otherwise detained’ one night.
But it’s all good. I’m free now. Really free. Free of the Mausoleum, free of the European winter, free of responsibility, free of being controlled, free of negativity and manipulative behaviours and free of that overwhelming negative energy. Take my advice, when a relationship is on its last legs, get the fuck out of the marital home before they do. It will kill your spirit, zap your confidence, financially cripple you and that’s just for starters. It doesn’t look like I will ever have those ‘picket fences’ after all.
When and if I do ever return to the Shire, and I really have no plans to ever do so, it will be to collect my stuff from storage and relocate to London, my home town some 200 miles from all that grief. I have been genuinely overwhelmed by the support from school-friends on social media since my ‘coming out’ and the offers of help when I get home will ensure a much easier transition. You can take the boy of out London but you can never take London out of the boy. It’s my home. So what if the street I grew up on is no longer there. My buddies all are, and the only thing that even allows me to even consider boarding a plane to Heathrow one day is that.
But that’s way in the future. I try not to project these days. Right now it’s one foot in front of the other and repeat. That’s my mantra, along with the new title to this blog. ‘It’s My Life’. I needed to change it. I can’t stay sober forever. But I can stay drug free forever, which I am now sure I can achieve. I feel good having a clear mind and I can cope with the odd teary episode as a result of ‘feeling’. I’ve done this before. I have experience. I just didn’t want to before, but it’s all part of the healing process I continue along.
It’s better to let go of people that didn’t respect me, or have my best interest at heart.
The only person I’m ever going to be with until the day I die is me, so it’s time I started to like that person right?