My room belongs to me again.
Its not quite done and it still doesn’t feel like home… But it definitely feels better.
I built things, decorated, screamed out of frustration, cried over so many things I found while unpacking/re-homing that didn’t want to deal with and had another emotional roller coaster of a day and night. What matters though, is that I did it. I let those things take me
over and then I came back and moved forward.
My heart still hurts beyond measure and I’m still learning how to do this recovery thing but at least now, I have done something I can be proud of and laying in bed won’t feel so foreign.
My books are out to greet me and my candles light the way.