I still feel like a stranger in what is supposed to be my home. It’s been 2 months. But I was here for a total of 4.5 months before that in large and small spurts. I guess I always knew I was going “home.”
And now I feel stuck emotionally. It’s not my place. I have a bedroom and bathroom to call my space. All other space belongs to someone else even if they welcome me into it. It’s still not mine. And I can’t watch my shows except on the tv in my room. I guess that’s good. At least there’s a way to record them and watch them.
I feel segregated off in my room. I tried to use the kitchen last night and this morning, and I was an imposter who somehow was in the way.
I’m an imposter segregated in my tiny space in this gargantuan house. Even that room feels like a borrow though. It’s not my space.
I’m not sure how to make any of it my space. I don’t have art or pictures to put up. I’m always in someone’s way or space.
This sucks. And I’m not ready financially or emotionally to move out. Not that I’m getting much support these days.