Won't You Be My Neighbor?

The upside to living in apartment style condos that share common walls is that your neighbors can hear a lot.  The downside to living in apartment style condos that share common walls is that your neighbors can hear a lot.

On one hand, one might find comfort in knowing if something happened and help was desperately needed, shouting for help would elicit responses from those nearby.  Or if there was an overflowing toilet or a broken pipe or something, neighbors would notice the noise, and get in touch ASAP, with either you or someone who could help.  On the other hand, privacy?

Babysat the peanut the other night, getting home at 9:30.  Chilled for a bit, crawling into bed around 10:00, and snuggling in for some reading with the Pup before drifting off to dreamland.  I had just fallen asleep, so comfy in my bed, when I heard the buzzer of a door.  A glance at the clock said that it was 11:24.  I figured it was in my dream, so I stayed put.  But the door buzzer kept buzzing.  And it was definitely mine, based on the loudness.

My heart stopped for a moment, I'm sure, as I started panicking.  I mean, who on earth would be ringing my door buzzer at that late hour?!  Everyone knows I'm an early-to-bed kind of girl!  My heart continued racing as I got out of bed to peek out the window and see if there was anything out of the norm in the parking lot.  Nope.  More panic.

More panic followed by loud footsteps thundering up the stairs.  And the the knocks came.  On my door.  Inside the building.

Mind you, part of why I like my condo is because the exterior door is there.  It means anyone getting into the building has one safety feature before getting into individual units.  So as I stood in the hallway in my pajamas, clutching the Pup, I desperately wished I had fastened the chain lock before I went to bed.  I've gotten lax on doing so since the scary neighbor moved away.

After the knocks grew more persistent, I held my finger poised over the "emergency" dial on my phone.  I had to do something.  The knocking wasn't going to stop.  I was frozen in panic.  And then to make things worse, a flashlight started shining in through the crack by the door handle.

My mind was racing with every single bad thought possible.  Literally.  From the cereal rapist to the drunk neighbor to the pissed off parent and everything in between.  I can't begin to explain how freaked out I was.  So I was kinda shocked when I called out and asked who was there without screaming or crying or vomiting.

Turns out, calling 911 wouldn't have made a difference.  Cause they were at my door.

Guess one of my neighbors heard my water running, and was worried because it had been running for over an hour.  So apparently she called the police to come and check.  Ironically, (or not) I had been in bed for well over an hour when she called, meaning she only *thought* she heard my water running.  It wasn't.

Maybe I should feel grateful that she was looking out for me.  That would probably be an easier feeling to stomach than the fear and anxiety I've been swallowing instead.  Being woken up like that completely freaked me out.  I didn't get much sleep afterward.  I was flooded by fears - imagined and real - that kept playing over and over and over again.

Why did this warrant a post?  Cause my therapist and I have been working very, very hard at helping me find safety in my world, a world that I find to be far too unsafe for me.  I have found safety in teaching, in my classroom at my old school and now in my building at my new school.  I've always felt safest in my teaching world.  The rest of the world, my house included, doesn't always feel so safe.  It's going to take a lot of effort to not let this incident derail the progress.  (And maybe because I'm still feeling *that* unsettled and needed to share.  Either way.)

Week 50: A Special Place

When I am overwhelmed or need a break, my first go-to place would be my therapist's office.  Unfortunately, that isn't always feasible...... and no amount of wishing changes that!

The next best place is my bed.  Sounds depressing, I know, but hear me out.

See, when I'm in that space of needing a break, a vacation, or to disappear for a while, curling up with the Pup in my bed is the fastest way for me to get back to the land of the living.  Sometimes it takes just ten minutes of lying on the cool sheets, wrapping my fingers around the super soft blanket, feeling the weight of the Pup curled up by my side, to bring my breathing and heart rate back to normal.  There is something very safe about my bed, even more so now that I've finished decorating (after like 10 years) my bedroom so that I truly love being in there.

(Yes, I'll be honest and admit that sometimes it is only ten minutes, while other times it's four hours or more.)

Now, if you're asking about my special place to go when I need a break in general, and can actually take one?  That's a while different story!  In that case, I'd hop on the first plane and go to one of two places:

- my friend's house in Los Angeles, whose backyard is a sanctuary and whose kitchen I actually enjoy being in, or
- this sweet little retreat center near Puerto Vallarta with individual open air casitas, that have running water and flushing toilets, but no electricity..... where the surfing is the best, and the food is unreal, and there is nothing to do but enjoy the nature surrounding you!

I think I'll go crawl into bed right now...... not because I need a break, but because it's time for bed!

Week 48: Celebrate!

I didn't really think that I'd have much worth celebrating.  My life just isn't that exciting.

However.  When I sat down and thought about it..... and started digging deep..... shocking (or not!) I found a celebration right in front of my face!  It wasn't in existence even a month ago, but now, as I sit here and type this, it is definitely worth celebrating!

Every summer my goal has been to work on my house.  To finish the kitchen.  To redo the bedroom.  To decorate.  To do something to make my house a home.  Well my friends, this summer, not only did I set the same goal, but I'm in process of actually accomplishing it!

Project one was simple, to make my mirror look a little nicer.  $25 later and two hours later, project one was complete, and made such a difference in the bathroom!  I still hate looking in the mirror, but now I can't help but look at the mirror!

Project two involved a not-so little box that has been sitting in the corner of my dining room for over four years.  I am proud to say it is no longer sitting in the dining room.  As a matter of fact, the box is no where to be seen anymore.  Instead, my kitchen is a bit happier!

Arielle's Word-of-the-Day: HOME

June Blog Challenge Day 22: HOME

This is quite a timely word for me, as my sister comes home for a visit today!  She lives overseas and doesn't get to come home all that often, so it will be nice to have her in town for a whole month!

The idea of home is a touchy subject.  Growing up, I felt at home in my bedroom.  It was my place.  The only place I could escape to and feel (somewhat) safe to do as I pleased.  I loved my bedroom.  I cried when I moved out of my parents house, only because I would miss my room.

I was involved with horses from the time I was 11 until my mid-20s, and I always felt at home around horses.  My first horse was my best, best, BEST friend, and I could tell him anything.  I was even known to sleep in his stall when we were away at horse shows, just because it felt so safe there, with him watching over me while I slept.  To this day, I attribute my survival to my horse, cause without him, I would not have made it through my turbulent adolescence and teenage years.

My current home, a small little apartment, is just the right size for one.  It isn't my dream home, but it is mine, and it give me a place to live, with a roof over my head and three locks, so I'm pretty safe here.

In all reality, though, home is just a word.  I say that because until I truly feel at home in my body, it won't matter where I am, I'll always feel somewhat like an outsider. I know it is going to take a lot of work to change that, and I hope I'm up for the challenge!

Prompt: What is home? A place? A person? Have you ever felt at home? Have you worked hard to create your own home? Is it a place inside you or a place you’ve built around you and your family? Get to the deeper meaning. Post a picture of your “home” if that’s easier to describe your feelings.