My Kind Of Home Sick

A couple of weeks ago I asked my mum to send me a few items over here. One of them being a hoodie that my best friend Z gave to me a while back and its one of my favourite hoodies. I wanted to bring it out here with me but I didn’t have the room in my suitcase so I had to leave it behind. When I came out here I had just one hoodie that my best friend L gave to me (I do have my own hoodies, I swear…) but one hoodie just isn’t enough for me so I bought myself three others and as much as I like them they just aren’t the same. As I finished for my dinner break at work I came home to find a parcel on my bed which has come all the way from good old Manchester. I ripped it open, grabbed the hoodie and smelt it and hugged it so tightly I then ended up bursting into tears. It smells like home and it feels like home. Part of me doesn’t want to wear it because I don’t want the smell to go away but I know for a fact as soon as I finish work I am throwing that hoodie on and going for my evening walk! Some people may know I love my hoodies. Bare with me whilst I explain this but I feel secure and safe when I wear a hoodie. I know that probably sounds fucking weird and I’m not entirely sure how it mentally works but it provides me with a sense of security. I feel less open and vulnerable when wearing a hoodie. I put it down to my past. I have my issues with confidence and I always have to feel safe and secure otherwise my anxiety will kick in and in some cases I’ll end up having a panic attack. Receiving this hoodie today after a somewhat mentally challenging week or so has just made me feel 10 times better and I cannot wait to wear it again (but I am going to have to shower first because at the moment I stink of horses shit and sweat).

I’ll always refer to Manchester as my home because it is but it’s not always felt like home. I’ve been in Australia for 2 months now and I feel more at home here then when I was back in the UK. I don’t miss the UK. I am still adamant that I am never permanently returning and I’m still not 100% if I’ll be going back for a visit any time soon but I miss parts of my UK life.

I miss being so far away from my best friends. I miss not being able to randomly message them asking if they want to go for a drive, food, smoke or just go out on a adventure. My best friends are home to me. Whenever I am with them all my troubles and cares disappear and I miss being around that. I miss talking about random shit with them. I miss singing to them in the car. I miss being my stupid self around them and them being amazed at how peculiar I can be and realising how lucky they are to have me in their life (L and Z, you know you are blessed). I miss our inside jokes and our sense of humour. Moving away from your best friends is pretty difficult. I am one lucky girl to have L and Z in my life, let alone be able to call them my best friends. It was hard to leave the behind, I didn’t want to let on how hard it was because I didn’t want them to worry but there has been days out here where I miss them so much. It’s been a big change and they have supported me all the way and I know when the times comes for them to make a big change in their lives, I am going to back them all the way. It’s difficult leaving the ones you love behind as you move on with your life but it could be a blessing in disguise. It could be a way for you to find out who is truly there for you and who isn’t. Who is always going to be there for and who you want to be there for.

I’m not a huge people person. I love my own space. I love my own company, I just love being by myself and considering I live in the middle of nowhere it’s been pretty difficult to get the alone time I need to stay mentally strong. Yesterday was a pretty tough day. By the afternoon I had had enough human interaction for one day and as soon as I finished work I was focused on alone me time. I had a shower and took myself on my evening walk on my own and had a phone call with my mum. It was just what I needed however I feel like I may have to go for another evening walk on my own again tonight to just squeeze in that extra alone time. Back home my bedroom was in the attic so I had a lot of personal space and it was my space. Just for me. On days where I was feeling anti-social or I needed to get out of the house I would take Barney for a walk, go for a drive, smoke some weed or go and see Bubbles and that was my alone me time but I don’t really have that here. I don’t have a car here but I live in the middle of nowhere so I think even if I did have a car I probably wouldn’t be driving anywhere anyway but it has been hard to get the me time that I need to function. I’ve noticed I have been getting irritated a lot easier and more often in the past month or so and I think it’s because I’m too afraid to tell people that I just want to be on my own. The people here don’t know me well enough yet and I don’t want to piss anyone off or offend anyone so I have been more socially active than what I would have liked to have been and I know feel like I’ve neglected myself and pushed myself a bit too far. So this morning I’ve been thinking about it and going to really put myself first now. At the end of the day someone shouldn’t get pissed off or offended if you ask for some alone time and if they do, that’s their issue not yours! Stand your ground! Don’t let them make you feel bad and don’t let your paranoia get the better of you! Do what is best for you and your mental health.

Yesterday evening I had a lovely phone call with my mum. Despite the fact that she is in a different time zone and on the opposite side of the Earth she always helps me feel at home wherever I am. She’s my piece of home that I can speak to. She’s my piece of home that is always there to reassure me, listen and provide amazing motherly advice. When I was going through my counselling and before I started my counselling I had difficulty speaking about my issues and she knew that and understood. If I was having a really low day I would usually text her and ask her to come to my room, then when she came in I’d just ask her for a hug and she didn’t ask why. She just wanted to be there for me when I was having a tough day mentally or if I was just pissed off at the world. To me it’s pretty shit not being able to do that now because who doesn’t love a motherly hug?! But our phone calls are like a piece of home for me. Hearing her talk about home shit, UK life, hearing her Northern accent and hearing her talk about Barney it just provides a homely feeling.

The UK didn’t really feel much like home to me but it’s a place where I have a lot of fond memories that I will cherish forever and it’s a place my friends and family call home. It’s somewhere I grew up, somewhere I broke down and a place where I learned a lot and despite how much I refuse to move back there, it will always hold a place in my heart but for now my home sweet home is my friends, family and myself.

Always make sure you are your own priority,

Take care,

Lots of love,

Emma xo

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