Home Sweet Home
By: Lucy Stelmack
“I’m okay. Def not great. I came to my parents house and Im having a lot of anxiety that I'm going to have to move back home and leave Athens if i can’t pay my rent…. My other job I had lined up fell through so I've been looking for something else until things start up again but all the uncertainty and also being in a place where I was so sick before is so unsettling. I miss our community so much.”
I had just sent this message to Emily. I had been worrying about these things for a few days but it wasn’t until I hit send that I could really feel it. The tightness in my body, burning in my eyes right before they began to tear up, and the need for deeper inhales as if my breath was the only thing holding me together. In my experience, it’s not until I admit my fears to another person that I'm able to really admit to myself what's going on. When my fears are only thoughts, I’m able to keep them beneath the surface; when they begin to rise, I can use other thoughts to push them farther down. Telling Emily and acknowledging their existence made them real—mentally and physically. After making my confession, I realized I wasn’t just submerging my thoughts. I was trying to to drown my emotions. I didn’t want to feel the fear that was undoubtedly present. I thought if I could just keep stacking thoughts, like “it's going to be okay’” and “this is only temporary,” on top of my fear, it would go away. But, when it comes to building, if the foundation isn’t solid, it will eventually crumble, and that's exactly what happened. I crumbled and I cried. After releasing all the thoughts and feeling my fears, I realized that beneath all of it at the very bottom was love.
I love Athens, my home, where I began my journey of sobriety. Where I reinvented myself and found pride in the person I am today. I LOVE Shakti, my other home, where I found my community. If home is where the heart is, my home was in Athens. Fear was not a solid foundation to build a life on but love is; so, I started to rebuild.
First, I needed to clear the foundation. While staying with my parents, I realized how scared I was to be in my hometown. The town I grew up in and eventually began going down the hard road of alcoholism and addiction. My conversation with Emily inspired me to step out farther. If I could feel the fear of the unknown and make my way through to the other side, could I face the fear of my past so I could begin to build my future on new grounds? I got into my car and drove into town. I passed the houses of ex-boyfriends and old acquaintances. I drove past the buildings of unsuccessful jobs and lost apartments. Some memories brought laughs, and to my surprise, others brought grace where I had expected shame. This time, facing my fears felt different than I had imagined. I had expected the tightness or tears, but nothing came. It felt like every memory was able to pass through me without tugging on my heart or taking away my breath. How could I feel so much peace in a place once so full of chaos?
I ended my journey at a church. My friend, Josh, is buried there. We grew up together and I can’t remember how we first met, that's how long I had known him. I attended his funeral, but I wasn’t sober and I never said good-bye. There were many times I wanted to try but I wasn’t ready. This time I was able to. I sat in front of his site and admired what our friends had left for him and allowed the memories I had of him to come and go. When I got back to my car I felt so completely clear and smooth, like wood after the friction of sandpaper. I could glide over all the rough edges of my life without being caught by the stray splinters of my past.
I had wanted this feeling for so long and never believed it was possible until now. Finally I felt free from the past.
I even decided to stay with my parents a few days longer and was able to enjoy myself without anxiety. I returned to Athens with the plans and blueprints. I had made the decision to let someone take over my lease, and I found someone looking for a roommate. However, my lease take over fell through, and so did the next one, and the one after that. My lease only had 3 months left and no option to renew and I was beginning to get very discouraged. The odds weren’t in my favor and it was the worst time to lease my apartment. The situation seemed hopeless. I was desperately trying to move out before I became behind on my rent and the days kept adding up. After another renter backed out I had given up that I would find someone in time before racking up another months rent. I knew I was doing the best I could, but I still felt crushed and defeated. Then, in perfect timing, my support beams arrived. I received a call from The Ark. I had requested assistance with my rent and they were following up to offer their help. WOW. Not only did they help me get my rent paid, but their support reassured me I was exactly where I needed to be and I wasn’t alone in my struggles. It was hard to hang on to defeat when I was so full of hope and gratitude, so I kept searching and finally found someone to take over my lease. I worked it out with my landlord to use my deposit to pay the rest of my rent and had 2 weeks before I needed to move to the new apartment.
In those 2 weeks something incredible happened. Without the concerns for my finances, no responsibilities of work, or apartment searching, I began to feel like a child again. My concerns were lifted, and the unknown was less scary and full of possibility. I began to explore outside, play on my mat and come back to myself. At night, I’d lay in bed, and instead of creating a to do list in my mind, I could relax and fall asleep to my breath. I felt held by the universe. This space and freedom began to show me that I wasn’t just moving into a new apartment; I had been creating a home in myself. My heart as the foundation, connection to myself and others were my support beams, and the universe held my walls together no matter where I stood. I wasn’t just moving into a new apartment in Athens, I was moving into the new home I created in myself.
This pandemic didn’t just make me stay home, it allowed me to rebuild my home. I finally had time and space to clear and renovate the parts of me that needed attending and remodeling.
As I began to move into the new apartment, I started decorating my room. My walls held all my pictures, the tapestry and macrame. I noticed the vibrant green my plants brought into the room. I noticed my book collection, and how much of my identity shows from my bookshelf. Then I thought about the things that aren’t on display. My years of sobriety, the yoga classes I’ve taught, the last experience I had at my parents, and I realized how all of these things decorate my inner home. They are part of me that I will take everywhere and treasure, they aren’t in boxes but they do hang on the walls of my heart. For a while now, I have known that there was an experience missing, and because of fear, I always talked myself out of it. I have attended college twice. I never finished due to my struggles with addiction and I have let the fear of failure keep me from going back. This whole experience has shown me that it's okay to be scared. So, my fears and I applied to begin again! Sometimes fear causes us to forget that there's another side. I couldn’t see the other side when I was massaging Emily at my parents afraid of losing my home, but it was there and what was waiting on the other side was more than I could Imagine. The home I have created today is strong enough to not only protect me from my fears, but also hold me safely until I'm ready to let them go. My home welcomes my past, present, and future. She holds my favorite parts of myself and they can never be lost or destroyed.