17th November 2018 – I have already mentioned my home several times here. No matter if it was a sanctuary where my re-charging party with my friends took a place or a peaceful house with the warm bed and two crazy chihuahuas in it, the connection between me and my old ugly residence is rather sacred to me. It might be very incomprehensible for someone who doesn’t know me: It is an old cold rural house probably from 1920s, which my dad tried to partially reconstruct in 1990s, so we would be able to live here.
The reconstruction was made only halfway through and my dad never made it to live here with us because my mum applied for a divorce. Few years after that our mum passed away and since that time, the house is partly mine and partly my brother’s. Because we are young, and we don’t have any money to spare, the house is somehow slowly falling into disrepair – in a way, it is still fully livable and habitable. It is just not the nicest house you have ever seen; it doesn’t have a new shiny facade nor the newest glittery Ikea furniture. For me though, it is the only place on Earth which has ever felt like home to me.
The connection with this house, with this land, is multidimensional to me. It will always be the house when my mum lived in her final days, the place where she felt happy after the divorce, with the kitchen where we felt like Gilmore girls and with the garden, she sporadically took care of and which made her an eternal witch in my eyes.
In my mind, it is also a place where many of my ancestors lived their lovely and peaceful lives and where my grandma and grandpa did a great deal of work. When I am here on my own during the night and I hear some noise, I always try to calm myself with a memory of my family members that passed away and with what my mum used to tell me, so I wouldn’t be scared: “If this place is haunted, remember – it is haunted by only good souls.” It might sound silly, but this calms me down every time.
It is a place where I can just be myself, I can think and talk freely without being judged or manipulated. This part might seem obvious, but it is a jackpot to me! As an empathic person, always analyzing and thinking about literally everything that happens during the day, I truly enjoy the moments which I can spend on my own in my silent – and sometimes not-so-silent – house. It doesn’t matter to me whether the interiors of the house look super-pretty or not as long as I feel super-relaxed and super-safe within its walls.
Let me express here today how grateful I am for having such a peaceful home and – what is even more important – for having such a strong connection with it. Having a sacred sanctuary, where you can curl up and forget about the rest of the world during the bad days and party as the devil during the good days, is just invaluable. Even though some toxic people in my life seem to not get it at all. Well, f.ck them! ❤ 🙂
Wicked And Clever