I was just looking at this from just over a year ago ... https://www.blipfoto.com/entry/2811940836118366803

And now, here I am in the new place.
I haven’t worked out how I feel yet.
Lots of levels.
Not really got the energy to work them out but on a practical front it’s warmer, much better for working from home, I can take responsibility for what needs doing and looking after it and the whole ‘power over’ thing of landlord / tenant has lifted.
In some ways I am surprised at how it feels like home already.
But, and it’s a big but, I feel utterly lost.
I’m using up the last of my annual leave and my head has looked like this tree in its untethered chaos.
Living on a split level of functioning at one level and rather disturbingly depressed and tearful on the other.
Trying to gain a sense of perspective from the turmoil of the world and the suffering of others but my inability to thrive and live with gratitude for my security and safety just makes me want to cut and run.
I had been wanting to retreat in some way this week but my inner maelstrom has created a deeply frustrating and exhausting paralysis. I’ve been here so many times before since P died (probably perpetually at some level) and then the same after G died. When I stop working I just get swamped and paralysed by overwhelming grief.

This comes to mind ...
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=r1Fbz1BLn5g

... not so much for the feeling of wanting to cut and run but for the feeling of poignancy of lost innocence, lost hope for future life, individual and collective, the loss of the child that sits and watches without unremitting grief, and, as yet unaware of the feeling and impact of lost connection over time, utterly unaware of the weight of entropy
... just wanting to quietly wave goodbye and retreat into the wicker basket of innocence and nostalgia, or oblivion maybe.

I often loathe this journal.
Therein lies the work I guess.
Parts of self and all that.
Trying to fumble around and clumsily express the inexpressible. Far too much introspection.
Such an introverted, antisocial sod. Both life partners were perfect fit keys for unlocking that part of me which has painfully closed the door again unable to find the ways.
Perhaps we are so consumed with creating our safety and security and become increasingly disconnected in the process.
You know that thing ... when dogs roll in shit ... and then get up again and shake themselves off ...
It’s okay ... I’ll shut up now.