The search for a new apartment continues
My current situation is as follows: I pay half the rent for an apartment that is basically serving as a storage unit for my belongings whilst I lay my head on the other side of the city, on a futon. To top it off, I have to leave by the end of the month, leaving me with no roof until August (my last month, and projected move-in date for a new place…wherever that may be.)
It is in many ways demoralizing, but considering the alternative of inhabiting a home associated with so many negative feelings “it ain’t bad”. There is an effort from my ex to bring me back to stay in the old apartment, and though I don’t believe there is a hidden agenda, only that of providing me with some peace of mind, I simply cannot risk my well-being at this time.
The thought of sharing the same roof again
having her sleep in the next bedroom
in the bed that was once ours
The rent situation in Toronto has changed dramatically over the last ten years (since I last looked for a one bedroom unit). I have upped my rent budget and it’s still not enough, although I’m not looking for a palace, I still have standards. It would appear that living in a roach free apartment has its costs; the rent for a unit outside “roach town” is approximately $200 to $300 higher.
As-well, access to a Good-Life gym, the subway line and cycling club areas would be preferential, but in reality I would give all these up for a clean building away from my ex where I can live in solace.
Has changed over the last few days, I believe in part due to the living situation and as well because I’m processing some anger related to the last few months. It reared its ugly head two nights ago, and I’m glad that it finally did as I can now keep moving forward. I have been however exhausted since the episode, but I’m sure this is part of the transition period.
Although anger can be negative, it is also part of the grieving process. In fact, it bothered me at some level that I had been so calm since the stressing event one month ago; thus far I had been as calm as a Hindu cow. Losing my shit was something that needed to happen; there was a lot I needed to expel (I was very forthcoming with my ex, and provided her with an “ample deluge of self-expression”.)
However, as my therapist said “there are things that are meant to be discussed, and there are things that need to be expressed”, maybe the method was not correct, but it sure seemed like a good idea at the time.
I managed to go into Kensington Market (a hub of strangeness and multi culture) and burned off a roll of film, my writing is still there and I get random urges to tend to it. In the past I was afraid of creativity suddenly leaving me, but I believe it’s a matter of tending to that impulse and feeding that vain in order to stay connected to it.
I am still considering a Tumblr account as a repository for my words and photography, as I would like to keep WordPress and the other world separate. Or maybe I should just get over the fear of being judged and toss it up on here.
Everyone should wear turtlenecks, they’re awesome.
I need a longer lens for street photography…Why did I sell my equipment again?
Go back to the apartment and post my old photography work online.
It’s nice not to be in a constant state of nausea, the meds have finally settled.
I must get back into the gym! I lost way too much weight on the meds.
My appetite is back…Finally.
The best part of trying to put on weight? BACON and bagels.