.:Too Much, Not Enough:.: December 2019

The past few months have been very, very busy, but for the first time in years, it's mostly been for positive reasons.

It's been a long hard road, but after a year of unstable housing, one real estate agent finally took a chance on me, and now I have a place of my own for the first time ever!

At the end of August, one of the units I'd applied for finally gave me approval, after endless unsuccessful applications.

No one had ever bothered to even call my references before. Whether is was the fact that I'm on disability pension, have no rental history, or own a cat – or a combination of the three – they all took one look at my application and binned it. There's so few rentals available for so many people who need them, and I'm not exactly an ideal candidate compared to others.

Just a week after looking at the unit, I got a call saying that my application had been successful. I went in to sign the lease that afternoon, and two days later, I picked up my keys and went to look at my home for the first time ever.

Even though it was empty, it was lovely. Since it would be five days before the movers could get my things out of storage, I was planning to still sleep at the refuge, but go to my place during the day. I took Misty with me, just to try to get her used to a new environment, thinking she might take a while to adapt. But she and I were both so comfortable and at peace with our new home, that I slept on the floor with blankets and pillows for those five nights. It was just too depressing to think of going back to the refuge, so I only went back a few times to pack and clean.

After living in such terrible conditions, this place feels like a palace. Don't get me wrong – I had no other options for the past year, and I do appreciate being able to stay there. All I can say is that I'm relieved to be out of such a toxic environment.

One bonus to having my own place, is having a kitchen of my own. I don't feel self-conscious like I did in the refuge. There's no one to stare or ask questions about what I'm cooking or why I use the scales to weigh every morsel of food, no one to judge or interfere. I can feel comfortable knowing that there's just me. I've even started a little herb garden on my kitchen windowsill, which I'm very excited about for when they're fully grown.

As far as drinking goes, the less said about that, the better. I'm drinking less standard drinks per day since I've moved, but I've only had three days off in three months (and all three of those days were in the past month). I was on a bender the months before and after moving. Before moving, it was dealing with the stress, depression, and drama. After moving, it's been just wanting to relax, and being overwhelmed with having so many things to do. I had 77 days drinking in a row, which I think might be the longest bender I've had.

I need to get back to having at least a few days off each week, but it's a struggle at the moment. I'm having trouble breaking the habit. If I am trying to have a day off drinking, I need to hide in bed with my meds and go into lockdown, blocking out the world, to avoid a potential trigger. The hardest part is trying to distract myself from the things I need to/should be doing, and stressing out because it makes me feel lazy.

The only reason I'm even trying to have days off is because of the calories and weight. I was at a 50/50 ratio of days drinking vs days off for quite a while, but as the stress at the refuge built, 50/50 became three days off a week, then two, then one, then zero.

For the most part, the majority of my intake calories come from alcohol. My food intake still averages around 600, whether I'm drinking or not, but alcohol is usually anywhere between 1,000-1,500. I hate it, but it's so hard to get back on track. I don't even drink sugary or fatty drinks – it's all just vodka and wine.

With the extra alcohol calories, I'm working my butt off to try to burn them off. I rarely get more than halfway through the alcohol calories, but it's enough to keep my weight stable instead of gaining. But I'm so disgusted in myself. I lost 5kg at the start of the year, but after a few months, things started to get worse at the refuge, and so I began drinking more and more.

When I was at the refuge, they had an exercise bike sitting unused in a storage area. I'd asked if I could borrow it while I was there, and was told I could take it with me when I left. The computer on it doesn't work, so I just figure out a rough burn by time/steps/heart rate, but for now, I'm happy with it. I'm also trying to get out for walks with one of my support workers, as part of my exposure therapy for agoraphobia. She brings her two little dogs with her, and we walk at a quiet part of the river.

Apart from that, I'm not getting out much. I am doing click-and-collect orders for some of my groceries, which my support worker takes me to get. After increased rent and all the new bills and utilities, I'm struggling to afford more than the most basic groceries, let alone delivery.

I see my support workers six days a week, for two hours a day. A lot of it is just to give me some routine and make sure I'm okay. It gives me someone to talk to if I need to, and just having someone check in on me each day has been really helpful. But they can also help with things like picking up groceries, taking me to appointments, and general things I might need help with or want to do.

Life isn't perfect. I'm still dealing with the same issues I was last year, but I don't have to deal with the stress and drama of living in a refuge. It gives me a degree of feeling calm and content, living in my own place.

It's taking a while to learn how to run a house and be a real adult, but I'm getting there, slowly but surely. I'm just trying to find some semblance of routine again. For the past year, I've just been getting through the days, but now I want to have things to fill them – journaling and blogging being one of those things.

I've had no motivation to write, or even communicate with the outside world beyond my team, recently, and I really need to get back on that. So by the time I get around to needing to blog, so much has happened that I didn't know where to start, and it was just too overwhelming. It might still be a slow process while I finish unpacking, but hopefully you'll start seeing regular posts from me again soon.

It seems like I've barely even had time to read blogs, with the insanity that has been the past year, and I feel so disconnected, but it's time to change that and get back to being a regular member of the community, which slipped away as my housing situation grew increasingly worse over the past 18 months. I'd had no energy or motivation to do anything, but now that I've got stable and safe accommodation, that's starting to return.

I'm sorry I've fallen off the grid. But I love you all, and I'm sorry I let things slip so far for so long.

For now, I'm off to start a long overdue catch-up on everyone's blogs.