I think the source of this awful ennui is that we have now been away from Cwmgors long enough that i have forgotten all of the bad feelings that made us leave in the first place, so I am able to just pine over the garden, the peace and quiet, and the hope that I cultivated there. I don't feel it anymore, so I need to remind myself of the blackest despair I felt towards the end of our time there. Of the constant striving and working and trying, for years, without reward. We were so lucky for our time there, so blessed to have that space to have the girls as babies and toddlers. And that's all. I wish I could get this change into my heart and reach a point of peace, because my head knows that we are getting on pretty well now that we are back in Swansea.
Right now I am sat in our garden at 20 past 9 in the evening. I can hear the trees in my garden rustling, and beyond that cars, alarms, people laughing, and the sea. I do not feel alone any more. I have a job, which although I still feel odd about, has given me confidence and independence. I have learned to crochet anything, I have swum in the sea the year round, I have gardened, I have made friends, I have walked along the beach, I have sailed, I have decorated, I have done fun stuff with my family. I need to pull it together and admit that I am having a nice life.
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