Not that many will care, but I'm drawing a line under this post.
Main reason for leaving has been a collapse in any little confidence I may have possessed, and I don't think anonymous internet posting is going to make finding my previous minimal amount of personal respect again any easier.
People are spotting the horizon and planning where they want to be when we get there, so I'm seeing more selfish goals surface, causing cracks to appear in my relationships with people. While I have no problem with these goals, none of them seem to factor in other people as I do. I like most of the people in my life, although there are relatively few, and it pains me to feel that they aren't planning to see me any longer then they have to.
Or they don't trust me not to do the same. Are they afraid of being the victim of the hurt that they are to give?
Anyway, confidence-wise I'm a disaster. Things aren't perfect in any area of life at the moment, and I'm too stupid to do anything about it, and being kicked from our house was merely another knife amongst a long line of minor mood killers. I'm not sulking, I've gotten over it- but it sets up for my penultimate points.
Along with losing the house, I also lost my cat. In fact, it was directly because of moving here; to so close to a busy...well, I won't explain about that- you may well have experienced something like it. It was the first time I've truly cried in 8 years, and he was so much more than a cat- as they often are.
Loss has come in abundance, daisy-chaning with further loss of focus, loss of sleep and lack of motivation. I've pondered whether I'm in the right career, with the right people and whether London or Somerset is right for me- and I'm still not particularly clear. However, one of the few things I am sure of is that this writing space is redundant, as my cat is dead and my hands don't want to type what I'm thinking any more, on fear of them writing something that I don't want to read.
This hasn't been the easy-reading goodbye that I had hoped, but this whole thing would have been a sham if I wasn't to end it as truthfully as it began- while blind drunk and desperate for anybody to listen.
So, finally, I offer my gratitude to 2011 for giving me a lesson in loss, and admit that my only resemblance of a 2012 resolution is to get myself out of this mess so that I can enjoy the rest of my twenties.
