I have just moved into a new house and it’s such a strange environment. I made some sort of decision to undertake a music masters, which may or may not be the worst idea I’ve ever had. I’m undecided on how I actually feel about the masters for the moment, so I will with hold my judgement until a later date. However, in order to continue my studies I have moved into a new house.
The issue is, even though I’ve been in the house a week now, even though you can go into the house and see all of my belongings, the house doesn’t feel like my own space. The house doesn’t feel like mine. I don’t like going downstairs on my own. I won’t sit on my own downstairs. I can just about sit in my room in comfy clothes. It’s just strange for me. I feel like a stranger. A stranger who holds the keys.
I see my belongings, but it doesn’t feel like mine.
But I get this feeling with every house I move into. It takes me anything between 4-8 months to feel completely content with the house. To feel like I’m okay within the house. To make it feel like it’s my space.
The issue is I try my best. I put photos on the walls, I decorate the space in the best way I can and I attempt to spend time in the space on my own. I try everything I can. Anything to make the new space feel like it belongs to me.
Hopefully soon, the space will feel mine. I’ll be comfortable in the house.
But for now, I’ll be avoiding the house as long as I can. A game I am all to good at playing since moving out of my family home.
The worst part about it all is that by the time I am comfortable with the house, I’ll be moving out and into a new one. These new spaces and I don’t always get on. These new spaces don’t feel like mine. But these new spaces hold my life.