So much has happened recently I don’t quite know how to begin this entry, how to compose it or how to start it. So I’ll jump right in. I’m homeless. Officially. I have a hotel room, from where I write now, a backpack, my little stereo, a cheap phone and the fewest of clothes that will fit into said pack.

It’s ironic that Valantines Day was the day I terminated my lease. I didn’t plan it that way. It was love, and the ending of it, that took to me to this place. Relationships end. I know that. I’ve had enough to not be naive in that department. But this time my whole life ended too. At least the life that I knew, and thought was the one that made me who I am, the one that defined me, made me happy.

Regular readers will know the facts, they are all here. I will not rehash old news. Briefly, I was treated so very badly that I broke down in almost every conceivable way. I sat on my own in my now empty flat for over 4 months and as every day passed, she got stronger and I got weaker. She led me on, kept me full of false hope, kept me completely in the dark as to the plans she was secretly hatching. She played me like a piano when all I did was wait for her and love her. This made sure that she left me in the worst way imaginable, and therefore in the worst state I could ever get. She took my heart, my self respect, my faith in humanity and my dignity. What else is there of any worth? And all made 1000 times worse because it happened just weeks before we were due to live together again after months of me working so hard to save us.

After ending up in court 3 days before Christmas due to my breakdown, and her absolute resolve to pretend I never existed, and then having the worst Xmas Day anyone can ever have, I decided I was either going to drown myself in my local river or take an overdose. Where I should have been treated with respect and compassion, I was instead treated like a criminal and an terrible inconvenience, a burden. I had made up my mind. I’d never in all my sadness felt like this before but this time I felt more alone than someone already dead and buried. I just wanted my pain to end. 

Around the 29th December, just as I was writing my goodbye letters to the few people I thought might still give a fuck about me, I decided to do something I’d never done or even considered before. I reached out on Social Media. I didn’t want to die, I just didn’t want to feel so unloved and disconnected any more. Worthless. But I’m also not a fan of people doing their dirty washing in public. But what did I have to lose? I was out of here anyway. I thought I deserved my fate. I didn’t.

I admitted I was struggling, that I was very ill and extremely depressed. The fruits of being blanked, isolation and my lost faith in kindness, human decency, honesty and love.

The result to this very day has restored pretty much all of the above. Not all of it. There is still work to do. I received so much support and love from people I hadn’t seen or spoken to in ages, going all the way back to my schooldays in London some 35 years ago. It turned out that a lot of people liked me, that my interactions with them near and far, short or long, had left a good impression, that they thought I was a kind and good person. Not a burden. That I was worth more than what I had been left with, and that I was important to them. It makes me cry as I write here on my phone just thinking of all the love they gave me unreservedly.

It inspired me so much that 2 days later, on the eve of a new year, I booked a flight to the faraway place I call ‘home’ (for now). So as everyone else was getting drunk on New Year’s Eve I was on my way to London Airport. Yes, I was alone still, and very unsure of my future, but I had been given the strength to do something different. To make a change. The strength I couldn’t find before.

As January 1st 2017 dawned, I arrived in a foreign country with my only plan being that I didn’t have one. Since that day, I have grown stronger by the minute. I still have my weak times but they are few and far between. I am still 100% drug free (even my anti-depressants are gone) and I have made new friends that I know I will keep for life. Good friends. Friends that see me.  The real me. I have been open and honest as to why and how I am here, I’ve not hidden or been false, and I have helped make their times here better with the experience, honesty, humour, kindness and love that I know oozes out of me. I am finally free to be myself, and not who someone else wanted me to be. I answer only to myself and my conscience. As a result I’ve had more fun and made more real connections with people in 6 weeks than I did in the last 15 years or more. And I have never danced or laughed so much in my life. Im looking healthier and happier by the day too. And I’m happy with that. Who wouldn’t be from where I was less than 2 months ago? 

I finally did something I should have done years ago, culled down my ‘friends’ list from a ridiculous 1700 to 560. And I know them all personally. My wall is full of my friends again. And they are all still there, still helping me make tough decisions when I have to whenever I need them. And feeling good for me, and inspiring me. And caring about me. As I hope I do for them. I am the proudest shareholder in this force of nature. This lifesaver.

Yes, I may be homeless, but I have much more than I’ve ever had before. 

And I know I’m never alone. And I never will be again.

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