I was uprooted from Florida because of well, because of reasons.   Apparently, there were a lot of reasons that I didn’t acknowledge or ever care about.  I can’t claim that I was the master of my domain, no matter how I tried, because I was falling into mental and physical decay.  It was frustrating.  I was damaging my relationships and turning into a type of monster – and not the cool kind either.

The supposed couple of month stay at my family home filled me with dread.  My family had changed, more so than I’d imagined or gleaned from my yearly vacation visits.  I knew I would be smothered, watched, and gossiped about.  Privacy expectations would be an illusion and I was not wrong.  Despite being in a degraded state, I considered myself independent, self-reliant, and probably more than a touch prideful.  Whatever adult credit I had built for myself would be stripped.   I would resume my role as a daughter and sister instead of who I thought I was or was becoming.

Now, with a possible brief return to Florida, the same feelings are resurfacing.  I can’t help wondering what would happen when I place myself in the same house that has so many bad memories.  (–  To be fair, there’s good memories too.  Bad just seems to outweigh the good right now.)

Would walking through the door cause a panic attack?  Will I remember my old things as mine and not belonging to someone else?  What claw marks did I leave and will psychological scars be reopened?  How many ghosts did I create?

I’m really going to have to trust Jason to keep me calm. The bad memories can’t and shouldn’t be erased, but they shouldn’t be the focus either.  He is going to have to be my anchor, which scares me.    I’m a bit more than an handful sometimes…. most of the time…  every time.  I don’t take comments easily… although I’m getting better at it.

Even more so, I’ll have to trust myself.  I need not to become upset over the environment, just as I don’t allow myself to become upset by global actions.  I need regulate myself, not shut off the light, and only see the shadows.    I need….  I need a lot of things.

However, I’m looking forward to cleaning, scrubbing, and washing.  That Florida house is a part of me that fell into disarray and, maybe, hopefully, I have the strength to right the wrongs and iron the creases…. mind you, I don’t actually iron.  Never been good at it.  I’ll iron in a figurative way.  In my minds eye, I can picture how much ‘need’ there will be.   What needs to be done.  What needs to improve.  What needs to be thrown out.   I see the need more than I remember the colour of the walls, the contents in the bathroom medicine cabinet, or even how many trees are in the front yard.

I am dedicated to correcting and fulfilling the needs, but I don’t know if that’s the right course of action.  I could become too familiar and too proud.   The need and the hurt is there.  Would correcting it just cause more harm?  I am so narrow-minded that I could let the external healing easily consume me and there could be nothing left to give — like before.  Like when I lost myself and had to leave.

Silly, no?
I don’t know, but I’m going to do it.. hopefully sooner than later.
Some how.