displacement

[helenic]

The second of the two times I ever saw a counsellor, we talked about the way I form attachments to things. I told her I love leaving places; not going to them, but leaving them, because the feelings of release and liberation as you walk away are always lessened once you actually arrive. I moved house eleven times as a child, went to six different primary schools. She thought it was terribly significant but by then I'd become cynical of the way she faithfully interpreted every scrap of information I gave her without reference to the fact that there were things she did not know.

But perhaps I was deluding myself, or perhaps I never really ever left a place I loved before. The truth is that yesterday, as I packed for the last time my car-load of student possessions, I felt - not grief, nothing so concrete, but an almost sick sort of emptiness. I've seen rooms emptied of furniture and personality enough times to be used to it, but I'm genuinely going to miss this one. The way the door caught on the edge of the desk; the bird noises that seemed impossibly to be coming from behind the blocked-up grate itself; the loose man-hole cover just outside the window that clanked annoyingly every time someone walked by. I'll miss the privacy, too, because I've never shared my space with someone before, and when I go back in October I'll be in another staircase in college sharing a walk-through set with Ruth.

The difference will probably be infinitesimal apart from the lack of somewhere my own to which I can retreat, and certainly nothing to do with the room itself, but I was shocked by the lack of familiar elation as I drove away. Leaving was, this time, not a great change; only a small loss. And now I am living with my parents for three months and I don't know where to start, where to put myself. I haven't yet unpacked because I feel a strong need to radically alter something, rearrange my room, redecorate, anything, and I have no idea where to begin. I always would rather two days spring cleaning than spending an hour tidying up, and today I couldn't bear to just unpack everything and slot it around the room as it had been before I left. I wanted to reinvent the place, to redefine it in terms of myself. Every time I come back to my parents' house I'm scared of slipping back into the person I was last time I was here. It's ridiculous but I never learned to disassociate who I was from where I was - when you move house that many times it's easy to mentally attach distance in time to distance in space, and not feel a sense of loss because you've physically moved on. Now, having lived in this house for the longest I've ever lived anywhere, I'm not used to having to deal with being changed as a person and still stuck in the same surroundings. I find myself standing at the kitchen sink looking at the familiar view of the apple trees through the window and almost sliding back into the mentalities I've had all the previous times I've stood there.

I began to sort out my old clothes so I could move the trunk into the attic and create more space, but it was physically and emotionally tiring. Instead I've spent the day in determined escapism; novels and the BBC adaptation of Gormenghast. I'm embarrassingly desperate to get hold of the new Harry Potter book, and will probably buy it tomorrow, if only to fill this predictable emptiness: it's always hard to come home and find it's not home any more.


(And as for Saturday: Michael, Gabrielle, Alex, thankyou. Your presence meant more than I can say. I won't write about it because I don't trust myself not to be bitter that people stood me up at the last minute, but it was absolutely lovely to see you and I had a glorious drunken time. You are wonderful people and I'm so, so lucky to know you; all of you.)

Comments

[-spire.livejournal.com]

I have been at boarding school for seven years, and this last is the only one in which i have occupied a single room. I never, ever want to give up that privilege again. Until i had regained my privacy i never realised the full extent of what i was missing, but i remember not really wanting to see anyone in the holidays just because i liked being alone so much, as well as spending enormous amounts of time in the school toilets- the only place where i knew no one would walk in on me.

I couldn't resist Harry Potter and so read it over the last weekend when i was really supposed to do at least a bit of Chemistry revision, but never mind- it was well worth it.

[libellum.livejournal.com]

god, school toilets. They were such a haven for me. Partly, I tell myself, because I craved solitude and somewhere undisturbed I could read Pratchett or le Guin; partly because, well, I was bullied like the best of them and avoided going outside at break or lunch if I could possibly help it. Seeing as we weren't allowed to stay inside, at least until year 11, it was a case of finding somewhere to hide. You've got me reminiscing now. I wonder how many people have such strong and painful memories of the secret toilet in the basement, the one no-one goes in? Whether you're hiding from enemies, cutting, purging, or just in need of a corner to sit and write, I imagine they hold the emotionally-charged past of a huge number of teenagers.

I've said it before, but I admire you a lot for managing to cope at boarding school. I know I couldn't do it. And sharing a room ... my privacy is something I've cherished so much for as long as I remember I think if I'd been obliged to share a room I'd have turned out very different.

My mum has bought OoTP and it is sitting in a bag in her room, but she wants to read it first and I know if I started it tonight I'd just be frustrated when she asked for it back. I shall have to wait until I go into town tomorrow. I'll just have to.

Hope your exams went okay sweetheart. Are you nearly finished? xxxx

[maga-dogg.livejournal.com]

of a huge number of teenagers.

Make that female teenagers. Male school toilets are only capable of supporting one emotion, and that's only if you count asphyxiation as an emotion.

[maga-dogg.livejournal.com]

every time I come back to my parents' house I'm scared of slipping back into the person I was last time I was here.

Oh, lord, do I know what you mean. Shudder.

And, as I said before, I'm really sorry about not making it to Cambridge: my brain yanked the rug out from under me.

[libellum.livejournal.com]

I just feel that I need to change my environment before I can be comfortable here. I'm seriously thinking about redecorating my room but I can't afford carpet and - well - my current carpet is "atomic tangerine" and the walls are blue. It works, if a little dark, but what on earth else goes with neon orange??

Actually that last sentence didn't refer to you in the slightest - I'd never really expected to see you there, so your presence was a possible "extra" rather than something I was relying on. I was sorry you couldn't make it, but I completely understood.

[maga-dogg.livejournal.com]

just feel that I need to change my environment before I can be comfortable here.

Yeah; I felt that as soon as I came back and am still wrestling with it. That said, I don't really feel comfortable anywhere, but my room in particular has far too much rebreathed badshit. I attempted desperately to rearrange furniture, failed to make anything work, and eventually, in desperation, tore down everything from the walls and put up a map of Cambridge instead. Then I took to sleeping with my head at the foot of the bed. It's still not a room I can bear to spend much time in during the day (and god knows I like holing up in private space).

what on earth else goes with neon orange??
Er... dark-futuristic grime of the Blade Runner camp, fluffy pink pouffes, or a large sign saying DISCLAIMER: ACTUALLY HAVE TASTE, BUT POOR.
Or just do what I do - combine recarpeting with filing system, clothes drawer and bookshelf.

[libellum.livejournal.com]

I considered taking the carpet up and just throwing down a number of rugs - in fact, I still might, combined with a new paint job, if I have the time. It'd have to happen while my parents were away though because they'd be unable to operate (they both work at home) with my furniture strewn all over the house so my room was clear. It'd be great if I could pull it off, but would be a big job.

I do need a new filing system. I really really do. I brought home boxes full of loose, unsorted, unfiled papers and I'm dreading sorting them out.

[z-e-r-o.livejournal.com]

I never learned to disassociate who I was from where I was -

One of the things i've missed about Lj is the electrical jolt I get when i read something unique true and perfectly expressed. This made me catch my breath and set of a chain reaction cascade of thoughts. I love your writing.

Me being me It never occurred to me you might feel let down by my (i hope polite) refusal to come to your picnic/party, assuming that a t-shirt in some way acted as a replacement for friendship. On the off-chance that this is so let me apologize for being such a difficult frosty prick.

[libellum.livejournal.com]

Your Harry Potter post (however insulting that might be as a title) made me want to say exactly the same thing: yes! and this is why I read your journal. But I couldn't, so I read it aloud to Iain instead. Thankyou; I'm flattered, embarrassed, and ... well, right back atcha.

As for the other thing - same goes for you as for maga_dogg. Didn't honestly expect to see you there; the t-shirt was unexpected, un-necessary and hence absolutely lovely, thankyou; I was talking about the people who'd said they would come, whose numbers I was relying on when I booked the punts and calculated numbers and things, and all ten of whom cancelled in the last two days. Some of them didn't even let me know - I had to get in touch with them. Just downright rude. And not at all including you.

Still, I'll accept the apology for good measure, because this is the second one I've had from you recently and it's still such a nice surprise I want to make the most of it while it lasts ;)

xxxx

[thecinderella.livejournal.com]

I am going to apologise even though I know I would be insanely angry in yr position. Truly, I don't expect I forgive you, truly. I didn't realise quite what an effect not turning up would have, & until you txted me I had truly planned to make it there somehow. I hadn't really considered the reality of it, you see, which was stupid, because I forget that you are real. Umm, but that is no excuse at all. I will try not to make this about me, because it is about letting you down, but I am terribly unreliable & I suppose I've never made that clear enough. Plus Amy, my little support .. oh I don't know. I can pay you back in any way you wish, money, emotion, whatever you think is fitting. Just please understand that I feel horrid about it. x

[libellum.livejournal.com]

actually, sweetheart, it's okay. I know my little rant above was ... well ... rantish, but after my "nobody loves me!!" cry on Friday I got over it and we had a fantastic time. Yes, I was bloody angry, not with you individually but just with the whole livejournal-internet-I'm so unpopular thing. You know. The internet is a fickle friend and, to be honest, you don't have a reason to be reliable to me - you don't even know me. I suppose I'm so used to meeting people from online (most of my best friends I met online, isn't that a little sad?) I forget how nervewracking it can be for some people.

Hence I do know what you mean about people not being real, not in the same way. And it's okay and I do forgive you and I'm still going to write you a letter :) It was disappointing but hey, I'm over it. There's the whole summer ahead of us, it would be stupid to brood over one little thing which, in the end, turned out not to matter anyway.

That said, if you DO feel a desperate need to send me a birthday present of apology, I won't object at all ;)

xx

[mettle.livejournal.com]

i wanted to say thank you for phoning me on saturday. to be honest, it made me feel a little miserable as i wanted to be there and not stuck in a stuffy house with my folks. but i got over it. but, maybe next time it won't clash with fiftieth birthday celebrations. x.

[libellum.livejournal.com]

It was really nice to talk to you. I'm glad I was drunk otherwise I probably wouldn't have rung you because you always say not - but surely phone phobia is phobia of ringing people, not of being rung? Ah heck, you don't have to explain yourself, it's cool.

I think we were all sorry you weren't there but I think we also knew it wasn't your fault. It was a little pathetic it got to the point where I was relying on individuals to make it a size worth having when you'd already said it might not be possible. The timing was just unfortunate, when I kept hoping and then the day you said not was the day about four other people said not, and then all my classics friends couldn't make it because they had to leave their rooms at noon to make space for a conference and ... well, it wasn't anyone's FAULT but a couple of people were particularly unreliable, and none of them were you.

kay? all good feeling and we missed you and I'm coming down to london in august, we shall have to do a thing.

xx

[verte.livejournal.com]

You should paint your room and force yourself to go on a major jobhunt. I think the impetus to work (in some form), however initially unpleasant, might make the whole being-at-home experience less turgid. Plus, if you have a job, you won't be at home enough for it to seem unpleasant.

You should still definitely buy the Harry Potter book, though. Escapism much needed. I can't decide what to read at the moment. I really want to read Cat's Eye, or else tackle Don Quixote (perhaps a mistake). I'm re-reading Junky and am for some reason bored with it the second time round.

Polly rang me yesterday offering me a Glastonbury ticket I had to turn down. She got a first, unsurprisingly.

Miss you. xxx

[yiskah.livejournal.com]

I'm really sorry I missed it. It would have been lovely to be back in Cambridge for such a pleasant purpose.

xxx

[libellum.livejournal.com]

some other time. You should have a housewarming party! I'm only three quarters of an hour away from Nottingham. How was Spain? xx

Re:

[yiskah.livejournal.com]

It turned out to be France in the end, but it was absolutely lovely, thank you! A housewarming party is definitiley on the cards, though you may be back in Cambridge by the time we get around to it! I'll keep you posted, of course. xxx