I came back home today. My home I mean. Since Jessica died I’ve been staying with my parents and that’s been fine but I know it’s been hard on them as well as on me. I haven’t exactly been the best of house guests. When you are surrounded twenty four hours a day, seven days a week by people who are treading on eggshells because they’re concerned about you, let’s just say it can make for a somewhat stressful situation.
I love my parents dearly. I really do. They’ve always been there for me. They certainly would never kick me out or say I was an inconvenience. It’s just, I don’t know, I feel I can’t keep staying there, relying on them and disrupting their home life. It also feels as though I’m hiding from the truth in some way. I’ve never been one to run away from a situation and as hard as it is for me, I know I shouldn’t start now.
Being back here is really difficult. There are so many things that remind me of Jessica and I don’t know what to do about them. In my head I know I should do something with her stuff, perhaps even something constructive like give some of it away. But in my heart, well my heart doesn’t want to let go, of any of it. It’s all I have left of her. I mean on one hand I know I have no further use for those things but on the other I’m scared to let them go. Scared that if I give them away I’ll be giving her away. It’s really difficult to explain but when I think about it I feel as though I am betraying her somehow. Giving her things away seems so final. I honestly don’t think I’m ready for that.
The really silly thing is I can’t even bring myself to go into her bedroom. Here I am thinking of giving her stuff away or rather how I would be betraying her if I did, yet I can’t even bring myself to look at it.
I didn’t really expect coming home to be this hard. For some reason I was expecting things to be better if I was in my own place, but they’re not. I don’t even know why I thought it would be easier here but I did, and I came back only to find out just how wrong I was. I spoke to Mum about it, all of it including the toys and stuff, and she said I wasn’t being silly. She said how I was feeling was perfectly normal considering the circumstances and I shouldn’t rush things. I should only do them when I felt I was ready.
I like her advice but if I followed it I might not even get out of bed in the morning. Besides how will I know when I’m ready? Will I wake up one day and say to myself ‘I think I’m ready to go through Jessie’s things today’? Maybe a better question at this point is; how can I know if I’ll ever be ready?
I suppose I’ll just have to do what Brianna suggested, cliché or not, and take it one day at a time.
The other thing Mum said was if I wanted to go back my old room at their place was still available. She hadn’t converted it back into her sewing room yet. I think she was trying to make me laugh, it didn’t really work. It did make me smile though. I know she wasn’t being serious, my mother only sews when the mood hits and a rough estimation of how often that happens is about once every three or four years.
I turned down the offer. I have made my decision and I am determined to try and stick it out. I’ve been told I can be quite stubborn at times.
I love my parents dearly. I really do. They’ve always been there for me. They certainly would never kick me out or say I was an inconvenience. It’s just, I don’t know, I feel I can’t keep staying there, relying on them and disrupting their home life. It also feels as though I’m hiding from the truth in some way. I’ve never been one to run away from a situation and as hard as it is for me, I know I shouldn’t start now.
Being back here is really difficult. There are so many things that remind me of Jessica and I don’t know what to do about them. In my head I know I should do something with her stuff, perhaps even something constructive like give some of it away. But in my heart, well my heart doesn’t want to let go, of any of it. It’s all I have left of her. I mean on one hand I know I have no further use for those things but on the other I’m scared to let them go. Scared that if I give them away I’ll be giving her away. It’s really difficult to explain but when I think about it I feel as though I am betraying her somehow. Giving her things away seems so final. I honestly don’t think I’m ready for that.
The really silly thing is I can’t even bring myself to go into her bedroom. Here I am thinking of giving her stuff away or rather how I would be betraying her if I did, yet I can’t even bring myself to look at it.
I didn’t really expect coming home to be this hard. For some reason I was expecting things to be better if I was in my own place, but they’re not. I don’t even know why I thought it would be easier here but I did, and I came back only to find out just how wrong I was. I spoke to Mum about it, all of it including the toys and stuff, and she said I wasn’t being silly. She said how I was feeling was perfectly normal considering the circumstances and I shouldn’t rush things. I should only do them when I felt I was ready.
I like her advice but if I followed it I might not even get out of bed in the morning. Besides how will I know when I’m ready? Will I wake up one day and say to myself ‘I think I’m ready to go through Jessie’s things today’? Maybe a better question at this point is; how can I know if I’ll ever be ready?
I suppose I’ll just have to do what Brianna suggested, cliché or not, and take it one day at a time.
The other thing Mum said was if I wanted to go back my old room at their place was still available. She hadn’t converted it back into her sewing room yet. I think she was trying to make me laugh, it didn’t really work. It did make me smile though. I know she wasn’t being serious, my mother only sews when the mood hits and a rough estimation of how often that happens is about once every three or four years.
I turned down the offer. I have made my decision and I am determined to try and stick it out. I’ve been told I can be quite stubborn at times.
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