Monday, September 26, 2011

tearful and fearful

I'm preparing to move again - second time in just over six months - and I feel the depression deep inside my belly.

The anxiety of hoping I get everything done in time, the pressure from the landlord to be out a bit early so she can get extra cleaning and painting done, taking on responsibility for the damage deposit that won't even come back to me (it was paid by the South African Hottie when he moved in) ... these are just a few of the things taking their toll on me.

I've received help moving some things, thank goodness, but I need a little more and I'm afraid to ask. I hate asking people to put themselves out for me. I'd rather experience the stress of doing things myself ... but some things I can't do myself.

Fear of the future is what's really eating me, though. Will my needs be met in my new home? Will I be comfortable? Will the South African Hottie come back before the end of the year or will it be at least May before we have a home together again?

This morning, for just a moment, I wished I could go back a year or more to the simple, empty life I had in Nova Scotia. No decisions to be made, just routine movements, same job day after day, same activities night after night.

Safety and security are underrated.

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