Crazy mental

Well we are in our new home...and it is absolutely perfect for us.  I am happy to tell you that we are settled and it is already beginning to feel like home.  I have to tell you about how traumatic is has been for both of us, and I have to admit that it is 99% my fault.  I have told you countless times how emotionally unreliable I am at the moment, well add moving into a flat with a man into it and I absolutely hit ‘CRAZY’, if there were prizes for being crazy mental I believe I would have won first prize.  I woke up on moving day and said ‘I can’t do this, I am not moving with you’, luckily for me I have The Man and he let me work through it.  I am also lucky because I have a some of the best friends a girl could wish for.  One of my friends came to see me at lunchtime, her name is Gwaltz (nickname) and she is absolutely amazing, she talked me down from my craziness and made me realise that I want to do this.

I spent moving day in a shear mental panic and moving all our stuff downstairs.  It is tough for me doing stairs but I was determined to be helpful and contribute to our move even if it did make me feel bad.  The problem I have is if I can’t see my feet then they are a hazard, I can’t feel when they hit the floor or how they hit the floor so if I can’t see them I often go over on my ankles which is incredibly painful.  I got it done through and when everyone got home from work everything was waiting to attempt our ‘big move’.  I had convinced my housemates to help us move with the lure of beer and pizza.  The boys worked really hard lifting and shifting all our stuff, it was a great effort and I will never forget their amazing they were.

It was nice for me as well because it gave me some time to sit in with the girlies.  It is funny that 3 of my housemates saw the flat before me, but it was worth it.  We all had pizza, beer and wine at the house and then The Man and I headed down to the flat for our first night in our new home.  I had only seen pictures of the flat and The Man was slightly worried because things were different, like the feature wall was different, it had been painted over and some of the furniture is different but it is absolutely perfect, none of that matters.

It got to me the other day about moving in with another boy (man), every time I have attempted this before it has ended in disaster.  The last time I moved into a 2nd floor flat I became a prisoner, I was scared, trapped and wished for death.  I know that this is different but there is part of me that I think is still trapped in that flat, crying and wishing she was dead.  I thought that I was over it all, I honestly thought I had moved on, forgiven and forgotten but the move unleashed all those feelings and fears.  I know that The Man would never intentionally hurt me so this situations is different but the irrational side of me is scared.

When I was cleaning out my memory box a couple of weeks ago I found pictures of the boy who created all these fears, I found 2 passport photo’s around 2 years apart.  I think this also opened the box of emotions I thought I was free of, the first photo is of a young attractive bloke, fresh faced smiling out and the second one was of a twisted monster with hate in his face.  I never in a million years thought that the boy in the first picture would morph into a monster, I would have said he would never hurt me...I was wrong.  I would lie awake terrified of him coming home, worried my mere breathing would send him into a wild rage and end in him beating me in the head.  This is in the past and I know that it is so far removed to my life now but I guess it isn’t something I have dealt with properly.

Through all of this The Man has been amazing, he has listened to it all, reassured me and made the whole transition so easy.  Never in my life have I ever felt so loved and secure, I love The Man so much.