What home means to me.
Home has meant so many different things to me over the years but for the majority of time I’ve lived here it’s just felt like “A House” not a “Home”
I’ve had some good memories here but they’ve been over shadowed by a lot of heartache. It’s where my marriage broke up and my struggle as a single parent began, it has been a dark and scary place dominated by domestic violence for a while, a place where my alcoholism span out of control, a place that has seen lots of tears, misery and hardship.
Then I got sober and my house became a home for the very first time, the transformation began on both myself and my very neglected house. Room by room I began decorating, bought accessories mostly second hand stuff or on the cheap but slowly everything began to come together and it looked great.
I felt that I’d really achieved something and I was settled for the first time in my life. Material things don’t make a home but it now looks inviting, I’ve created a safe haven, it feels homely and comfortable, it’s full of love and laughter.
I actually invite friends round for coffee now and do step work with other recovering alcoholics. In the past I shut myself away from the world and drank in my bedroom alone and miserable, my front door was firmly closed for many years . Isn’t it amazing how things work out? How a negative can turn into a positive, how dark can turn into light. There’s always a way out of any situation and I know it doesn’t feel that way when you’re going through a bad time but there is help out there, don’t ever give up.
Everyone should have a home and feel safe and secure in it. We all deserve some love and happiness.