Creative Space



From FB Memories this photo came up of my old apartment. The first place I lived in alone as an adult after I left my husband. Therapy on Tuesday was amazing and I have had a pit in my stomach all week from it. Then I cried when I saw this. I gave up everything in this picture I loved when I moved in with my boyfriend. Artwork, furniture, that mannequin, all of it, including most of the rest of the apartment.

Every time I look at this photo I literally feel like puking. I kept the weights and the computer and that orange chair came back to me because his sister didn’t want it any more, but the rest…all gone.

I gave up everything: 8-9 van loads of my stuff to live with him in a house that I have no creative control over that is filled with his life and I did it willingly. He didn’t ask me to throw everything away, there was just no room for me.

I was able to hang a few paintings where people couldn’t see them, I can’t paint any walls, I can’t get rid of anything of his. My kid’s room is full of furniture she doesn’t use because we can’t move it. I couldn’t get to the washer last night because everything was piled in front of it.

Something has to change.

Also, I’ve gained almost 50 lbs since I moved in with him. My therapist thinks I’m protecting myself and eating instead of dealing with the lack of security and self.

Quite frankly, not only did I give up my belongings and my creativity and my space, but I gave up my desires and sexuality. I’m not sure what is worse. Mostly I’m so mad at my parents for instilling in me that I’m worthless without a man.

I think the weight was easy to put on because he eats terrible and I mimic him. But it’s also definitely my go to when I’m bored or listless or mad and stand in front of the fridge or bar too. I eat and shop when I want to get away from the issue. I’m detached and detach quickly. And that’s what I do, I just crash into things then take them on and put down every part of myself that doesn’t fit that mold. The older I get the more furious I get at myself.

He is fun and sweet, but he’s not a partner right now. Does he want to be? He can’t tell me. Making space for us would be a GREAT first step.

It feels good to get it out and as my therapist said, stay in color. You are in color when you are here then you go back to the gray.

I don’t know, my point I guess is it’s SO easy to get wrapped up and forget who you are or feel worthless or feel like you have NO idea what’s going on around you. Like not having an axis at all and just constantly crashing into events, people, circumstances. That’s how I feel EVERY SECOND.

My friend told me this about myself, which really hit home: “You are an amazing sports woman and camping and archery and all of that. But you are also one who likes to dress like a dolly parton drag queen with a makeout purse and take disco naps and make artsy stuff and have mannequins in your house and genius goodwill furniture finds and create your own space. You can be all of those people. I think one took over the other. WE HAVE ALL DONE THIS. “

I did it again though. Another man, another self and I willingly gave me up for him. He didn’t even have to ask.

My therapy is blunt and Russian and looks like a ballerina and I adore her. She also recently got her lip pierced. She does WHATEVER THE FUCK SHE WANTS TO DO. On Tuesday she was telling me that I should envision my life like her office. It’s a room, when she got it, it was white walls, boring floor and she consciously choose everything in it: from the paint to the rug to the furniture to the placement. And if someone came in and said “The table would look better over here” that’s not how it works. It’s her table and life and the aesthetic for her works with the table like this. My life is the same way. If you get tired of the artwork, change it. If someone brings you something that doesn’t fit see if you can live with it or if it throws off “your room.” You can love someone but not like them or need them.

I thought that was all pretty brilliant. She said people’s surroundings reflect the way we feel about our life. Your space is how you feel about you. Your weight, your health, your surroundings, it’s a reflection of your inner life.

I’ve not lost all hope and my therapist said that when you know something you need to take action. My action is to tell him we are partners and we are supposed to be sharing space and I can’t live like this. If we are sharing space I need to be able to make it my own, right now it’s us living in his house, borrowing his things.

I’m scared but I’m still in color a few days later.



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