From March to November: A Retrospect

If I think back to how I were back in March, the difference would be night and day. Chalk and Cheese. Any other idiom you can think of.

I were homeless. 

Sofa surfing. 

Popping into council hubs every other day, first thing, only to be told that, in the whole capital city, there were NO emergency accommodations. 

Anywhere. 

None. 

In the whole of Edinburgh. 

But, given our ... "mitigating circumstances", they could set us up in a hotel. 

Okay, that doesn't sound so bad---

In Livingston. 

That were the closest available place to offer emergency accommodation. 

You'd be in a Holiday Inn. 

Okay... Right... 

The decision is not so cut and dry. 

On one hand, guaranteed shelter without wearing out the kindness and hospitality of our friends. Or risking returning to our old home, with all the complications that arose from that: the reason we left in the first place. 

On the other hand, I would be homeless, with no connections, with little more than the clothes on my back, in a city that I have only visited ... one or twice as a kid. 

I know. I know. 

Difficult choice. 

A really difficult choice. 

Had us in knots. 

Sleeplessness on top of anxiety on top of depression on top of withdrawal from regular anti-anxiety and anti-depressant meds. Most of which had been left back home in the hasty rush of packing the bare necessities. 

I were at my lowest and digging deeper with every passing day. 

It were hard.

So very VERY hard.

 And I honestly didn't think I were going to make it. 

But somehow, bit by bit, I began putting the pieces back together. 

Starting with a flat to call home with my partner. 

And then a therapist to help me deal with underlying and untreated mental health struggles. 

Till, as of this November, I can sit here and safely type, with no word of a lie, unfiltered and unmasked, I were so very very happy. 

It weren't easy.

And there were days I would backslide. 

But I always had the gang to be there in our darkest hour. 

And in return, should it ever be in our power to do so, we open up our home and help another person in their hour of need. 

I actually just got off the call with my therapist. She told me to hold my head up high and be proud of how far we had come. 

And... we are. So very, very proud. 

I don't need other people to validate my pain and assess my progress, but when it comes from a professional who has seen us at our very worst and reaching this newfound level of happiness and contentment, it feels like an achievement to be proud of. 

I am happy... We are happy.

And we guess... No, we know, we don't care who knows it.