S.M. Carrière . com
Connect:
  • Home
  • About
  • Titles
    • Daughters Of Britain
    • Dear Father
    • Ethan Cadfael: The Battle Prince
    • Human
    • Skylark
    • The Dying God & Other Stories
    • The Seraphimè Saga >
      • The Summer Bird (v.1)
      • The Winter Wolf (v.2)
    • Your Very Own Adventures >
      • Skara Braens
      • Sky Road Walker
    • WIP Updates
  • Art
  • Other Projects
    • Editing Services
    • Charity Efforts >
      • Gàrradh nan Leannan
      • Have a Heart Campaign
    • Journal
    • Martial Arts
    • Silver Stag Entertainment
    • The Adventures of Grimglum the Nord
    • SMC Awkwardly Plays
  • Shop
    • Books
    • Art Prints
  • Contact

The Parting Mists

9/5/2022

7 Comments

 
Good morning, Readers.
Picture
Image by Ingo Jakubke from Pixabay ​
Well... it has been quite a while, hasn't it?

I'm sorry.

I was not well.

Things were... difficult. It wasn't just the rapid explosion of changes, change being one of the biggest challenges for my weird personality to deal with. It was the nature of the change, as well. It was the burden of restrictions. The CPTSD triggers, and the resulting petrifying depression that resulted. It was my inability to do anything, for fear of conflict, from exhaustion of dancing around conflict, and all the small pleasures I gave up in order to avoid that conflict.

Home life was... tense for me.

The woman I was living with was... difficult.

It all seemed fine when I first met her. But when I moved in, the control measures started. I was forbidden from using fragrances; which was fine. I could give those up, even if they made me happy. Then I was forbidden for cooking in the manner I wished. The smoke was an issue - regardless of whether there was smoke at all. I gave up some of my favourite foods to cook in the manner I was prescribed; the singular manner in which I was permitted to cook. There was an incident when I was cooking, in the manner prescribed, which appeared to result in a coughing fit. Until she investigated the manner of my cooking. Then, like a miracle, the coughing stopped.

I tried many compromises, none of which worked or was to her liking. There was a small fight over the air fryer, which I bought specifically so I could cook my favourites without fear of smoke. But I was forbidden to use it. Not outright, of course, but by her behaviour when it was in use, and the terse conversation that followed.

Once, I received an accusatory email demanding that I never use soy candles again. It was disasterous for her health. Only, I had never used any candle at all, let alone a soy candle. But the accusation came all the same.

I was blamed for a strange smell from the bathroom... though I suspect it was the fact that she had a shag carpet in there as a bath mat which caused the musty smell.

Later, I received another accusatory email demanding I never use my air conditioner again. It rattled the apartment and thrummed terribly, keeping her awake at night. There was no investigation, just the sharp accusation. My tiny window unit could not be responsible for the noise... and it wasn't. I proved it when the noise and rattling began anew, despite my unit being turned off.

I was blamed for foodstuff on the stove top, causing smoke when the elements were turned on, despite the fact that, due to the restrictions on cooking, I never used the stove but for to boil eggs.

I was expected to be responsible for cleaning the kitchen should I walk in and encounter a mess - whether I was responsible for the mess or not.

Rules that were in place for me were flouted by her. The rule to wear headphones. The rule against fragrances (she used and air freshener in the bathroom). No cooking smoke in the kitchen.

It all built up. False accusation after accusation, my every attempt at finding compromise rebuffed with terse words and seething, the continuing restrictions.

It got to be that I was afraid to do anything at all. I retreated to my bedroom, where I lived, like I was a permanent resident of a capsule hotel. I ate in there, because I couldn't face the anxiety of being in the same space as her. I would arrive home, crawl into bed and watch YouTube until it was time to feed the cat. After, I would return to my bed to watch YouTube until it was time to eat, or go to bed. I stopped doing all the things I loved - stopped cooking, stopped learning guitar, stopped using my studio to create art. I hid away to avoid her, to avoid the anxiety that bunched my shoulders, turned my stomach and pounded in my head. I made myself as small, as quiet, as invisible as possible.

And in doing so, I lost myself. The resulting misery sapped my strength, rendering me incapable of anything except going to work and my once-a-week chores... and at times I didn't even manage that (my laundry habits suffered, for example).

Everything suffered. I missed deadlines. Birthdays. Important functions. Emails went unanswered. Dream gigs slipped through my fingers as I watched, unable to so much as curl my fingers to grasp the opportunity. I've missed out on so much due to my own inability to act.

Depression is a terrible, paralyzing weight.

All my efforts, in the end, were for naught. I was kicked out; given no later until May to find alternate accommodation. The stress nearly killed me. Rent was absolutely unaffordable, despite my working a full time job. I could not find anywhere. Having a renewed aversion to living with someone, I would regardless be forced to cohabitate again; denied the distance, silence and solitude I personally require to heal. The prospect brought me to despair.

My luck turned, thankfully, and after a difficult move (which I will describe in another post), I found somewhere to live. It's not without its flaws, in a not-great part of town, and expensive. Finances are a new stress, but the payoff thus far has proved worth the expense.

On my second night in my own apartment, with no one but my cat (whose judgements are far easier to bear) intruding in my space, my lower back, where I tend to hold my tension, finally snapped back into place with a sharp, painful crack. The headache I had for months on end faded and has not returned. I slept deep and woke refreshed for the first time in recent memory. Suddenly, I had energy enough to not collapse into bed the minute I got home.

The change has been remarkable. I am stretching to a human form once more after nearly two years of cramming myself into an unremarkable lump, hoping to pass notice.

It's a process. I'm not there yet.

I still need time.

And silence.

And solitude.

But I finally have somewhere that feels safe enough for me to begin.

I can see the parting of the mists.

I don't think I'll be back to my pre-first-move self for quite a while. I won't be able to keep up with the Monday to Thursday blog posts as I once did. But I'm starting to come back.

Thank you for your patience with me, for my long absence and silence. I ask for a little more as I make my way back through the fog.

​Back to myself.
7 Comments
Tim
9/5/2022 10:46:28 am

Hey.

*hugs*

Miss you.

Wanna come over sometime?

Reply
S.M. Carrière link
9/5/2022 10:50:13 am

I would love that. I'm not quite set up in my new place, yet. Maybe next month, when I'm settled into a new routine.

Reply
Eric Desmarais link
9/5/2022 11:00:46 am

*big hug*
I wish we could have been there for you. I'm sorry you had to go through that.

Take the time you need to become the S.M shape you need.

Reply
S.M. Carrière link
9/5/2022 11:35:54 am

Thank you.

Reply
Lindsay
9/5/2022 11:15:39 am

WHat a horrible person. I am so sorry you had to endure that. Glad you've gotten to a better place and I hope you continue to heal well.

Reply
S.M. Carrière link
9/5/2022 12:00:47 pm

To be totally fair, I don't think she's evil. And I'm sure she has a laundry list of issues with me.
I do find it hard to grapple with the idea that she didn't realise that a person needs to nourish themselves - which is to say, cook - when she put out the call for a roommate.
I did push back pretty hard on the 'clean the mess if it's not yours' thing. I hadn't the time. And later, the energy.
And with my deepening depression making it difficult for me to do anything really, I can imagine that it would be difficult for her to navigate (I'm sure living with someone with depression isn't easy).
We just... we weren't a good fit.
At all.

Reply
Debbie Maxwell Allen
11/5/2022 01:57:19 pm

I'm SO sorry you had to go through so much. You are so strong. Hoping you can clear the mists and do what you love.

Reply



Leave a Reply.

    Author

    S.M. Carrière, a Celtic Studies enthusiast, writes fiction.  And this blog.

    Archives

    November 2022
    October 2022
    September 2022
    July 2022
    June 2022
    May 2022
    February 2022
    January 2022
    December 2021
    September 2021
    June 2021
    May 2021
    April 2021
    March 2021
    February 2021
    January 2021
    December 2020
    November 2020
    October 2020
    September 2020
    August 2020
    July 2020
    June 2020
    May 2020
    April 2020
    March 2020
    February 2020
    January 2020
    December 2019
    November 2019
    October 2019
    September 2019
    August 2019
    July 2019
    June 2019
    May 2019
    April 2019
    March 2019
    February 2019
    January 2019
    December 2018
    November 2018
    October 2018
    September 2018
    August 2018
    July 2018
    June 2018
    May 2018
    April 2018
    March 2018
    February 2018
    January 2018
    December 2017
    November 2017
    October 2017
    September 2017
    August 2017
    July 2017
    June 2017
    May 2017
    April 2017
    March 2017
    February 2017
    January 2017
    December 2016
    November 2016
    October 2016
    September 2016
    August 2016
    July 2016
    June 2016
    May 2016
    April 2016
    March 2016
    February 2016
    January 2016
    December 2015
    November 2015
    October 2015
    September 2015
    August 2015
    July 2015
    June 2015
    May 2015
    April 2015
    March 2015
    February 2015
    January 2015
    December 2014
    November 2014
    October 2014
    September 2014
    August 2014

    Categories

    All
    Book Reviews
    Events
    Gaming
    Human
    Life
    Rants
    Reading
    Seraphimè Saga
    Seraphimè Saga
    Skylark
    Television
    Training
    Travels
    Writing
    YouTube

    RSS Feed

Proudly powered by Weebly