It's a Friday night and a few rooms down there is a pretty big floor party. I'm not going because I don't like the party/excessive drinking scene. It's an environment I have not been exposed to in the past, and neither of my parents drank either. It's new to me and I reconciling wanting to be social and not understanding the appeal of getting drunk is a little hard.
In fact, everything here is new. It's having to get dressed to eat dinner. It's working hard and getting a B- instead of the 95 I'm accustomed to. It's having to shop alone. Calling home, and seeing people's lives go on without me. Worrying about banks and money. It's knowing that my support system, my family, friends, my comfort zone is so far away, and having to rely on myself.
I always thought I relied on myself at home. And I did, to some extent. I'm okay being alone. I'm okay coming up with solutions to problems and I can take care of myself. But I never realized how much I would miss the simple act of someone taking care of me. Cooking food, offering food, asking me about my day. All these things were so integral to my daily routine and now it's like they're gone.
It's like I'm about to turn 18 and I'm kind of scared because that means that this is life: having stuff happen and having to deal with it on my own. Being resilient. Self-focused. It's everything I wanted and having it is almost overwhelming.
What makes it bearable is knowing my family is close; my friends are a phone call away. It's also this blog and my books. I can't even explain how important books are right now. It's a connection to the past when I wonder what I'm doing.
|An artistic recreation of every drawing I ever drew as a kid. I thought doing 3D houses would divert attention from my inability to draw anything other than stick figured people.|
And that's something extremely powerful. There are parts of one's identity that aren't linked to other people, and so regardless of circumstances, they will last. They are some form of permanence and I need that permanence and reminder of who I am and where I'm coming from when I feel like I still haven't found my routine. Books and blogging are that: memories of being 13 and really needing to do something, to be heard; hours spent pouring over templates; all the words I wrote and the fulfilment whenever someone commented; seeing that success that I had a part in building; and my friendship with Mari, which is really important to me right now.
I haven't been around all that much but blogging and reading still feels like home.