I have been trying to write this post in one form or another for at least the past month and it has been a struggle. Partly from health issues, partly from weather problems. However I’ve decided that I am going to push this piece through, even if it’s imperfect because I think it’s important to me to talk about, and also because it’s bugging me to have it not done for so long. I might try writing it again later in some optimistic future where I have more spoons.
The thing that inspired the idea for this post is that there are circumstances lately that pulled me away from my space, that required me to go out into the wider world in one capacity or another, and to be honest I was downright cranky about it. Seemingly uncharacteristically so and it left me confused as to where that was coming from.
At first I considered that it was just the autistic “my routine has been impacted” but it felt like something more than that. Then I was musing that maybe it was some sort of agoraphobia I picked up, which may well be a piece too, did not explain the depth/style of the emotional reaction I was having. Historically I have been a very nomadic person who loves travel and experiencing new things. The spaces in the “circumstances” that were being provided for me were otherwise quite comfortable and compassionate in their support, but all the same they felt wrong, uncomfortable, and were actively not where I wanted to be.
I was discussing this conundrum with a lover of mine and she gave me some really helpful insight that filled in some of the gaps that I was looking for. Below is a bit of a summary of those thoughts that helped me better understand my feelings.
For several years now I’ve been in a transitory state. It started off with preparing to leave the location where I was living in for a very large move and that lasted some time. During that I felt unmoored, like I couldn’t do anything long term without it being a loss. That the physical space was perpetually in a holding pattern. I endured my space because I didn’t know how long I would be there, a month or years. It didn’t feel like there was any room for improving or changing the space with decorations, quality of life improvements, etc. Eventually I moved out of that space, but my circumstances have stayed much the same. Each step has been one of uncertainty of knowing how long I would be, where would be next. It has been one of holding patterns but being moved. Instead of traveling I was being traveled by circumstances.
When I was more nomadic in my life, when I was actively traveling I would have a place that would act as home. I would know “this is where I’ll be returning to” or at least “this is where safety is.” It’s where I knew I could trust my things to be, where community would be, where whatever connections I had I could trust would be there. Even some of my more intense adventures where I took home with me, there was a sense of self direction, an intentional carrying, and usually a sense of a time cap of knowing when things would change or where.
In the uncertainty of what / where home was or would be over the years, I began to move my sense of home mentally to the virtual. The virtual became the gateway to where my safety, comfort, and predictability would be. This provided in ways a level of safety in knowing whatever changed in my environment, as long as I had access to my computer it could act as a way to keep that sense of home.
It’s a double edged sword though. Circumstances that separated me from my computer would trigger the same emotional response as if someone being dragged or blocked from accessing their home. That is much what happened for me when there have been events separating me from my computer. Instead of it being a situation of consciously choosing to travel out and do something in the world, it felt like external factors forcing me away from my home. It also means that my sense of home is geographically much smaller. Instead of it being extended to a property, a building, etc it was limited to a room and debatably a section of a room. Everything else is transitory.
This also unfortunately deeply impacts how I interact with those spaces. Everything is a temporary patch to be undone when I go to whatever space next. Why would I invest in posters, rugs, various items of comfort, when each of those would be things that I would need to carry with me to the next space in some unknown quantity of time? In my mind each physical space is not mine to do with as I choose, but a place that I exist in until it’s time to move to the next.
Frustratingly I am not sure that there is anything to be done about this right now. I am enduring being traveled because I believe in the reason for it and the end goal, but it also feels important to acknowledge the difficulties of it. My circumstances are unlikely to change any time soon. Things will likely continue to remain uncertain and nebulous, right up until they aren’t, and I don’t get to know when or where that change will be.
I look forward to when I can call a physical place home again, but today is not that day.
Side Thought:
I have been considering doing audio recordings of these blog posts and making them available for people who would prefer the audio or struggle with visual media.