Home Security

It has been twelve days since the Great Move. I have unpacked, gone on a weekend retreat, survived a hail storm, made chicken curry, blown up a car and purchased a new one. I have affectionately named him (yes, this car is a male) Hank Lanyott. I have even managed to put in some work hours. Clearly, the last several days have been full of physical and emotional upheaval.



Key for me is the issue of security, the feeling that, generally, everything is okay and the world is not a scary place. In spite of moving in with a good friend, I don't feel secure. I am not in my own space. I recently made the decision to file for disability, which is completely counter to my family culture of never needing help and working full time (or more) to earn as much money as possible. My relationship with my family remains tenuous and distant. I don't believe I can trust them with my feelings or my resources because they seem to be wrapped up in their own lives. (I recently "sold" my sister a refrigerator, for which I have not seen a dime.) Even the outpouring of love and support from my friends is simultaneously a joyous and overwhelmingly alien experience.



Living in insecurity is frightening and depressing. My insecurities and the accompanying feelings of mistrust overwhelm me much of the time, making me generally a less pleasant person to be around. A friend who falls asleep in the afternoon when she promised to help me do something is not a simple faux pas to my subconscious. It brings to mind the dozen or so broken promises my mother made to me while I was growing up. Living with a roommate reminds me of the three other times my roommates' chaos sent my life spinning into a turmoil of its own. Even buying my current car (which is running fine, save for minor touchiness of reverse gear) gave me memories of so many times I have purchased something another person recommended, only to find I have been tricked or taken advantage of in some way.

Boy, on paper I sound quite paranoid. The truth is, I probably am. I haven't yet learned in my heart that, just because one situation goes bad it doesn't mean that every situation similar will end the same way. My mother broke promises, my sister broke promises. That doesn't mean a good friend will do the same. My friend succumbed to the body's natural need for sleep. That doesn't mean she is going to abandon or ignore me. The car I bought from a dealer turned out to be a piece of crap that blew up after only six or seven months. That doesn't mean Hank won't be a reliable ride for many years to come (he does have 176,000 miles on him, so let's not get crazy). In my rational, analytical mind I can see all these things. It's just that the emotional side of me has a long way to catch up.

So for now, I am keeping the coloring books handy for those times when I am feeling overwhelmed and mistrustful when there is no reason to be. It is time for me to start slowly building my own sense of security, be it at home or anywhere else.