=nashidesei

I hate waking up this early. I really, really do. Parts of it are nice--in this case being woken up by the oh-so-steady patter of rain on the roof of my trailer--but the rest? Not so much. The rest being time to think. I woke up about an hour ago when the sky decided to open up and make loud noises outside, and haven't been able to get back to sleep even though I was up until about midnight last night.

That means I've gotten five hours of sleep, and my brain won't shut off and let me have any more.

I promised an explanation, right? For why I've been--and really still am--on hiatus?

Well.

Uh.

...I moved back out of my brother's house and in with my parents. Sort of. Instead of living in the same bedroom as my sisters, I'm in my own trailer now, off the back of the house. It's small, smaller than my room back at Colin's, but it's comfortable enough. Homey, I guess.

Still, at times like this I feel awfully displaced. I've had the worst art block lately, I can't even color anything, not even anything that's almost finished--this means massive apologies to those I owe commissions, they're the first things getting finished once I can do more than very rough sketches again. Rest assured, they will get done.

I think my biggest problem is that feeling of displacement. It's not a constant anymore, like it was a month ago when I first moved back, but it still rears its ugly head now and then.

I moved out of my parents' house, I did the adult thing and paid for rent and groceries and utilities, made all my own meals every day, did the dishes on my own, did my own laundry and just my own laundry instead of my sisters' as well, and...then it fell apart, and I came crawling back crying my eyes out and sick as hell.

I failed. I almost went somewhere, but I failed.

So here I am, in a trailer in the back yard of my parents' house, listening to the rain against the metal roof and feeling very glad it doesn't leak after all--the house leaks, around the cooler vents and sometimes in one corner of the living room--and wondering what to do with myself.

I have a job. I'm a work-from-home reservationist, as well as the person in charge of advertising and website design for the new touring company I work for, but it doesn't pay very well because 1. It's a new company, and 2. My family owns part of it. The pay isn't really a big deal, here. I guess. But it still adds to the whole displacement thing.

There are...other reasons, too. I can't go into them here, but suffice it to say I dropped a bomb on my mother back on the fourth of this month, and it seems it's been increasingly hard for her to deal with. I don't blame her, I guess, I expected her to take it a lot worse, but I don't like that depressed, introspective look she seems to keep getting after looking at me. Add to that other recent events, and it's starting to feel like I'm just hindering her again. I should have waited to tell her, until all the other things had stopped.

...How could I have known that all the rest was going to happen, though? I need to stop blaming myself. It's not my fault I am who and what I am, and I kept quiet about it for plenty long enough.

But because of that, she doesn't know what or where my future is, and neither do I. That's what makes times like this so hard.

I don't like feeling this alone.