2025-03-02
week of nov 18th: look around your room, or any space that you love & call home, and write about some aspect of it
I look at my bedroom door, perpetually cracked open so that kitty can come and go. I used to always keep my door shut in an attempt to ward off the monster cohabitating there with me.
Sometimes, I'm reminded of the $3 wind chime craft kit I got from a store one lonely night, painting in the bounds of the stamped rainbow design in my room and assembling the chimes so I'd have something to do– something to fill the bottomless emptiness I felt. The chimes now hang on the door handle.
I'm reminded of that sordid time when I hear kitty announce her presence with the clang of cheap chimes. I like the sound of it. When I hear it, I feel grateful. I recognize how I feel safe enough now to keep my door cracked open and I feel grateful I have the unconditional love of a creature who never angers at me.
I'm so glad I got out.
I look at the crochet blanket, rippling and rainbow, I draped over the chair in the corner. I almost got rid of it a year ago because it reminded me of one of the lowest points in my life. It was also one of my first completed blankets.
I decided to store it away until it didn't hurt so much. For once, I wouldn't discard the relics that reminded me of my unfortunate life.
I write this now in the company of kitty, sleeping soundly in the plush cat bed beneath the chair, dark and safe, sheltering her from the outside world. I wake up most days and find her down there, reliable kitty. I peek through the hanging fringe of the blanket and I see her beautiful face. I kneel down and pet her and swear she's smiling.
As I get up, I look at the pride flag hung from my ceiling, moved there after kitty tried to claw it down. I don't have to fear having it up anymore.
I notice, too, how quiet it is in here. No monsters stomping about, gurgling and guzzling, belching, singing, or whistling. No self-appointed judges to tell me how to keep my room. No more hiding medications for fear of beratement.
This room isn't just the stuff I fill it with, but one of the first spaces I feel safe in, emotionally and physically, to exist and fully express myself. I worried, at one time, that I would die stuck in the place i was born in and never know peace. Now, here I am and I'm okay.
I'm so glad I got out.
