On her initial return to the place where she had grown up, she had done so without sight of her other choices, and returned to the chains that she was familiar with, in a location where she could easily excuse away her missteps and faults. Her childhood home was a forgiving place, and somewhere where she felt completely free to wallow in whatever emotional state she may be in. It was a place for her to let go and not be the strong facade that others had come to expect from her. At her mother’s house, she could allow herself to be broken. It had been both a blessing and a curse the entire time she indulged in the luxury, with the gluttony of self-pity and self-loathing eventually working down the confidence that she had painfully built up over the years. With her physical return to the place where people who would always love her lived, she felt she could let go of being concerned about perseverance, and finally take a moment to recognize that she was struggling. Except, then she stayed in that state of recognition for two years. She had barely processed her feelings for five years, and then she allowed the flood gates to open all at once in her early twenties, and was destroyed by it. She lost complete sight of the person she used to be, and the person she had been pursuing. She had resigned to a permanent state of wallowing, and was stubborn enough to sit there in the mud of misplaced emotion, with a devastated look on her face, until some kind soul would wander by and pull her up out of her troubles. It was as if she were child crying for her mother’s attention. Except, that kind soul never came, and she had continued to stubbornly sit in the mud for almost two years, ignoring the hard, caked, emotion covering her body and polluting her mind. She had to pull herself out, that was her only option. And she did, but with an odd reluctance, as if she had enjoyed being moody, depressed, and irrational all the time. She had indeed enjoyed the comfort of not trying for two years, but there came the day where she recognized that this could no longer continue, and she had to find a new landscape to situate herself in and move freely about.
She eventually found that magical land of self-confidence and love, and she had been cleaning her wounds with its purifying water for almost as long as she had resided in the mud bath of emotion. She was finally finding peace within herself, and her return to the place where she had grown up showed her how much progress she had made. It wasn’t that the place had changed at all, it was that she was looking at it through new eyes. She now saw the light that she had been desperately holding onto, while being surrounded by all the elements that wanted to blind her vision. She visited her old places of momentary peace, and felt nostalgia for the moments they had shared together and the strength she had gathered from them. She sat tall on her roof, surveying the neighborhood that was once her home, and the familiar setting that she used to dread returning to at the end of the day. She had once experienced so much pain here, but did not look upon it bitterly now. She was thankful for the time she had spent here, and the space it had allowed her in order to grow. She needed to wallow, and that was where she needed to do it. The place where she grew up was still a place to love, however it is now also a place that she respected for how forgiving it had been when she needed it most. It had accepted her, no matter what state she was in mentally, and been there for her to provide her with shelter, food, and companionship when she would not go out and seek it herself anymore. It had been an enabler and a sympathizer, and a dear friend that she thought about from time to time, but would not rekindle her relationship with in the future. Their time together had served a purpose for both of them, yet that time had passed, and she was ready to live in a new state of mind.