It’s been one whole year since I was homeless.
Two months in a hotel room, and one month in a shelter.
I still sleep with the blankets the shelter gave me. The pink tie blanket in the front of the picture and the orange quilt in the back. I’m not really sure why I haven’t gone back to sleeping with a regular comforter. There’s just something about those blankets that comforts me.
I think part of it is because I used to curl up on the cot in that windowless underground room and pull the blankets over my head until I made myself a little den. Those blankets became my shield between me and my reality.
Because I couldn’t believe I was actually in a shelter. I couldn’t believe my life had gotten to the point where I needed that kind of help. It was too much to think about for too long… so I’d hide under the blankets.
But to be honest, sometimes I miss it.
I miss having help all around me. I miss being able to rest because there was less for me to carry by myself. I was allowed to break down completely because there was so much structure around me holding me up. I had a safety net underneath me.
I am very grateful to be housed again. I’m grateful to have my privacy back. But I am also very tired of doing everything on my own.
So in a little bit, I’m going to shut the lights off, fluff my pillows into the little circle nest I build every night to feel held by something… and then I’m going to hide under my blankets.