Many people are natural introverts and if that means you need to be in your own space to be happy, then so be it. We even got an old man cat. But looking back, I thrived. I thought I needed the opposite — a place for calm and still — but once I moved in with my boyfriend, my mind went on a slippery slope to a very bad place. Take some time to figure out what works and what doesn't work for you about your living space. And so, with that, I bid you adieu; I'm off to live in a commune. It's taken me a little time to realise, but despite for years wanting nothing more than my own little safe space to run away to at the end of the day, I've come to find that too much safe space isn't always a good thing. And as anyone with anxiety knows, trying to keep 'control' is about nine-tenths of any situation.
He's senile and quite annoying the cat , but we love him, and each other, a lot. So now, never do I let a weekend loom without some sort of solid out-of-the-house, social interaction plans on the horizon. I may not always want to go out to the pub but never once have I looked back at a social interaction with friends and wished I had stayed in and watched Netflix instead. And as anyone with anxiety knows, trying to keep 'control' is about nine-tenths of any situation. My comfort zone was a distant memory, time alone was a rarity, my anxiety was being challenged all the time. Who was going to be sitting talking in the living room while I wanted to watch First Dates? My brain might tell me on Friday evening that I want to go home, glue myself to the sofa and remain there until Monday morning but, unsurprisingly, when I do this, I end up feeling like crap. What state would the kitchen be in when I got home, exhausted and wanting to cook a nice meal? Fancy ignoring all responsibilities and watching Netflix for 10 hours? For me, I know it's important that I have less control and surround myself with people. But looking back, I thrived. In my shared housing days, I was lucky enough to live with some of my best friends for the whole year stretch. Don't get me wrong, it's not a wellness spa or anything I especially like the cupboard you can't store anything in for more than a week before it starts to smell damp , it's just a place where I know I can keep 'control' of the situation. We had the customary three months of bickering while we learned each other's oddities and annoying habits, and settled into a state of cohabiting bliss. We made our little house nice ish , mould allowing. Once you've figured out what works, figure out how to get more of it. Which is why giving myself an environment I could exist in without losing control every day threw me for a loop. Booking classes for Saturday and Sunday mornings is always a good idea. If I tried to plan a good night's sleep and get myself off to bed at 10pm, there was absolutely no guarantee that someone wasn't going to come barrelling through the front door, bag of Red Stripe in hand, with a bunch of people they'd just met at the pub who were looking for somewhere to after-party. One thing I've found that really helps is getting my friends to sleep over and pretend we're still living in a shared house as much as I can. It just made sense; the next logical step. It's taken me a little time to realise, but despite for years wanting nothing more than my own little safe space to run away to at the end of the day, I've come to find that too much safe space isn't always a good thing. In short, it was barely organised chaos - and I had no choice but to let go. Of course my experience might be completely different to yours. And so, with that, I bid you adieu; I'm off to live in a commune. I thought I needed the opposite — a place for calm and still — but once I moved in with my boyfriend, my mind went on a slippery slope to a very bad place. The state of the house doesn't change without my knowing — either we cleaned it and it's clean, or we didn't and it's not.
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