Hiraeth

Home is often described as a place where we feel familiarity, belonging, and nostalgia. A place for our roots to grow and thrive.

It's often in the form of a structure, like a house or an apartment, and it often involves family by whom we feel loved unconditionally. Maybe there's a lot of memories associated with these things and, when we become homesick, we compare our immediate environment with said memories. 

Sometimes we see home as a person, and sometimes we see home as a city or a country or a neighborhood.

Sometimes these ideas of home are an illusion. At least they were for me. What I experience now is not homesickness but something called "hiraeth."

Hiraeth is a word I came across recently after encountering a difficult situation at work about a month ago. It's of Welsh origin and doesn't have a direct translation to English, but it can nonetheless best be described as a deep longing for a pre-colonized Wales. A longing for the way things once were. When I first began researching this word, my inner child really felt it. A deep longing to be safe and vulnerable. A place where she could be comforted by those who had loved her--before her body and her mind were betrayed physically and emotionally. A place where she belonged.

The unfortunate fact is that whatever home my inner child longed for was nothing short of a projection. It was an image created by her family which they couldn't uphold long enough and instead resorted to violating her innocence.  I have tried seeking this idea of "home" and "family" ever since I left San Diego in 2013.  I came very close I think, with where I am in life right now, and part of that has been because I've reclaimed myself and all my strength in spite of my past.

I cut off most of my family in 2021, and a little more in the onset of 2022. The difficulties faced at work and in my interpersonal relationships the last few months have reminded me that I have chosen to brave the wild on my own in search of home for myself again. It's not all negative, though, as I've found some wonderful friends who have been grand motivators for continuing my pursuit of finding my place in the world. We're all kind of in the wild in our own way. However, impermanence is a thing which is why I've concluded that no matter where I go in the wild, I must be at home within myself before I can hope to build something greater with others.

I am not a victim. I can see the broken beams and caved roof of what I call my inner home, and I can rebuild what already exists. I can add accents detailing the beauty which has come of my experiences between the time I was my authentic child self and now. Once I stand strong in my inner home, I can share it with others. Some will join their inner homes with mine, and if their clutter begins to wear down my walls, then I can offer to help them clean it up. However, if they cannot make the decision to clean up first, there is nothing to help. It would be more so me asking them to help me clean up their mess just so I can keep them around. Vice versa. That's co-dependency on a co-habitant.

People who walk into my home and feel at home, despite its imperfections, are exactly the types I'd like to keep around--especially if I walk into theirs and relate as well. The process of joining in a fruitful community comes after visiting each other's homes, but one cannot do that without something substantial to confidently call their own first.

My van is a nice metaphor, I think. It's not done yet. I'm working on it. It may not ever be "done" the way I would have idealized but, no matter what, it will travel with me and I will continue to take care of it, mend it, and accept it for what it is. I am the van. The van is me. I am one with the van. The van is home.

I've been working on this particular blog post for almost 2 weeks now, actually. My posts usually take me an average of 2 days to brainstorm, write, check, draw, and post, but the irony is the content of this blog is precisely what I struggled with this week without realizing it. I felt myself slowing down. I thought nothing much of it as even my students were slowing down this week and wanted to read and relax instead of doing the usual afternoon lessons and activities we do. However, even with better sleep than usual, I was just tired. Even my co-workers noticed.

One of them even said, "You need (insert stone name that I don't recall)! It promotes childlike energy when you keep it on you." 

To which I said, "But I usually do have child-like energy..."

To which she pondered and responded, "Oh yea, you do. That's unusual."

And then I thought how funny that someone would suggest a stone to solve my exhaustion and brain fog but then I reminded myself that I like astrology so I would be a silly goose to judge.

My inner silly goose yelling at crystal people while channeling my fire grand trine (this is satire). Also patiently awaiting the devil-worship accusations with this one.

Thursday, I had a minor asthma attack while my friends sat and planned a work event, after hours, that I was supposed to be contributing to but they let me just be lame, without judgment, while I got over my asthma and continued to be lame and unmotivated. I was cognitively just not... right. I was still laughing and being goofy as I do, but I was otherwise silent and couldn't produce creative thought or make effort to be productive.

The following night, I began experiencing vertigo symptoms. I got up in the middle of the night to pee and almost fell--hitting my head on the door but not very hard. I soon went back to bed and passed out. Woke the following morning with continued symptoms. Found out later it was all stress-induced, and what I was experiencing was likely a somatic flashback (#justCPTSDthings teehee).

My amazing friend who is consistently on my brain waves convinced me to go to urgent care, instead of just going back to bed which is my default as someone who grew up without health insurance, and I walked because I'm a stubbornly independent mule and also because it was just around the corner from my house. The lady at the desk turned me away without seeing a doctor first and told me to go to the ER because she had apparently experienced something similar before. 

That same friend who convinced me to go to urgent care took me to the ER, because I actually let her, and she sat joking around with me the entire time. She spent the entire day with me, and that was cathartic and healing. She did not judge me, and she did not make me feel crazy nor did she let me gaslight myself by saying I felt ridiculous for being in the ER. In fact, she understood me very easily. I'd not had many experiences where people actively stayed by my side through the ugly, but then again this particular friend and I share many uglies and beauties in common which is something to be treasured.

She touched my drum set. Virtual high-five if you instantly get this reference.

I might not have this friend forever. I might not have any of the friends I have now forever--but that isn't the point. While I spent the week suppressing feelings of hiraeth thinking there was nothing I could do to solve it (but maybe ease it by writing my thoughts out here), I learned a valuable lesson by doing myself wrong and finally experiencing for myself that there are people who really truly get me--who not just care but care a lot. I struggle with hiraeth, yes--especially as someone with CPTSD. Maybe if I sat with those feelings and reached out for connection instead of relying purely on myself I wouldn't have struggled so much this week. 

I have friends now, and I have love now. I can love and take care of myself all I want but to love myself is to also be open to letting others love me. To reach out and ask for help and connection--which I finally did but only after hitting my limit.

I knew these things already, and the things you know and put into practice on small levels are good--but sometimes a major wake-up call reinforces whatever you know until it becomes ingrained in your being. 

Those who are out there braving the wild alone (No, I have not read Brene Brown yet), I want to tell you that there are all kinds of people and connections out there who have the potential to grow roots with you. There will be times when being alone is empowering, and you feel on top of the world. There will also be periods of loneliness. As social creatures, we still have a desire to belong somewhere. A desire to plant our roots. A place we can come back to with confidence where we are surrounded by the same love we fight to produce in the world. It's out there. I saw it for myself.

"Keep your inner home clean and safe for your inner child, then let others come and live and they will welcome you in theirs."

- Me, myself, and I

Listening to: "Don't Carry It All" by The Decemberists

**Special thanks to my friend who was my mom for a day and we told everyone at the hospital that she birthed me when she was 12. Thank you for taking care of your creature, sharing my brain waves, and always welcoming my weird.