hope and hell

No news on the housing front, which is both stressy and not terribly surprising. This should give anyone who's interested a fairly good idea of what the housing situation is like for people with disabilities in the ACT, and thus why I'm having so much trouble. The private market really isn't a lot better, as anyone who's lived here will tell you - especially if you can't or won't share and you don't have a job.

On the upside, I spent most of last night talking to blarglefiend - a very welcome distraction from all the crap presently lurking about the place. The 'what will happen between us' stuff is an added unknown factor in my life at a time when I have more than my fair share, but at least it's a nice one; the worst case scenario I can see is that we meet, decide there isn't any chemistry and end up as casual friends. Well, alright. The very worst case scenario would be that we meet, he takes to my person with a chainsaw and stashes my mangled corpse between the walls of his house, but I really don't see that happening.

I recently saw an interview with author Alice Sebold, in which they were talking about a phrase from one of her books. I don't remember it verbatim (and anyone who tells me to go hunting it down on Google doesn't know just how lazy I can be), but it's something like "We move forward with hope and hell in the palm of our hands." I think it's a very astute observation - we all have the potential to create or fall into positions that are wonderful or terrible, and we never know what we're gonna git, to paraphrase Forrest Gump. Most of the time we try to ignore the extremes we could go to, but when our lives are in a state of flux those extremes become all too apparent.

Right now, I'm quite aware that my life is in a turdhole of massive proportions - I don't have a job, I don't have a place to live come another fortnight, I'm in the process of getting over a seven year relationship, and all my friends and family are elsewhere. Yet I'm trying to keep in mind that some of this stuff could shift in an instant. It only takes one phone call or one application for a job or a place of residence to appear. I just have to keep digging and digging in order for that to happen.

As far as the relationship ending and my friends being elsewhere ... well, I'm pretty self sufficient these days; I don't need a lot of company to feel loved or wanted. My friends may be far away, but I know they think of me and wish me well, and I've never doubted that. I mean, a real hug now and again would be nice, but I'll find fresh hug meat in due course. 

Looking at it from a different angle, going through an extended period when there were maybe half a dozen people at most who could communicate properly with me has given me a good perspective on what isolation and pain really mean, the extent to which we can be thrust into hell. I have not lost that. I will not forget.