Monday, March 6, 2017

walls

Allison and I moved this weekend and it was emotionally exhausting for the both of us. I went back to the old place yesterday to do some last minute cleaning and to turn in the keys. But before I walked out the door for the very last time, I took a minute in each room. 

This wasn't just another move for me. This house had been nothing but a place of turmoil and grief the last 5 years. And as I walked through the house, I reflected on all the things that happened in each room. The closets I would retreat to when I would have panic attacks, the kitchen where I walked in on an attempted suicide, the walls that have physical evidence of past domestic violence. I remember the specific spots I was standing in when I was being screamed at or when I received horrible news or when I had to call the police for help. I stood silently in each spot, taking in the emotions I felt when those instances occurred so that when I brought my mind back into the present, I could feel the weighted difference in where I am today. As I stood there, I cried, and I leaned forward so the tears would fall on the floor. I didn't want them. That old bastard house could keep em. 

I would like to try and remember all the good times we had there but they were few and far between. Allie had her third birthday party there but she also learned about death and heartache and parental neglect and depression there. They kind of overshadowed the cake and balloons.

I'm moving out of that house a completely different person than I was moving in. I didn't expect to walk out of it as a single mother. I didn't expect to go to war in that house or to leave it with all these battle wounds. But I can choose what I take with me. I can choose to leave behind the self-doubt and fear that lingered over me all those years and choose to bring with me the strength and wisdom and self-assurance I gained. 

This will be my last time writing about what happened within the walls of that house for a long time. Allison's dad has been making positive changes in his life and I don't want to ignore that. We're both very different people today. But my way of healing throughout all of this has been writing and I've been so grateful to have that outlet. And now I'm moving forward. And I don't want to bring all that with me.

And as for the house, I'm happy to be saying good riddance. Although I know the building itself didn't cause my disparity, within those walls I leave it.

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