A place called "home"

So, since I've been back I've visited three different places. My father's, my mother's, and my brother's.

I find that I am not happy nor comfortable in any of these places. None of them feel like "home".

My father, as I have previously mentioned, still drinks. His house had a weird energy lingering in it. I felt...life, somewhere in it. In all the nick-knacks, the decorations, the kitchen tools and the furniture...the apartment felt like someone full of energy and interest lived there. But at the same time, I felt something heavier crowding those lighter energies out. It felt as if my father was no longer there, but in his place was...a hollow shell, a drunken man...someone I didn't recognize. I was there for about 20 minutes, but I was overwhelmed with disappointment, because of my father's drinking. That, and the strange mix of energies...it just was not comfortable.

My brother's house is probably the most neutral in terms of energy. It's a new apartment, one I haven't been to before this. It's small, and sort of cozy. But, despite my brother's hospitality, I'm...bored. And the last thing I need right now is to be bored...

Then...I visited my mother's house. The one I lived in before I moved out of to go to school. The place was crowded, cramped, and in it I felt the same dense energies I felt at my father's. But there was a conspicuous absence of the energies of life.

My mother is an alcoholic. She's gone to AA, and she no longer drinks, but she's replaced it with something worse. She's got some chronic illness from which she's often in a lot of physical pain. So she takes several medications for it. She's also got psychological issues, as well as mental issues, so she takes medications for that. She's on several different medications, and she abuses them. But she does so with her doctor's orders...

All of the medical professionals she's been to have been unable to find anything wrong with her. It makes me think that perhaps she makes it up so she can get her pills from the doctor.

So, she's on medication almost constantly, and as a result, she's pretty much "stoned" almost constantly. It's a sad thing to see.

Before I left, I lived with my mother in that same apartment for about 8 years, and as I grew, as I became more aware of myself and the world, I became more aware of her and her state. By the time I left for the Ranger School, I was practically dying to get out. My mother's depression was sinking in to me, and the more I realized I couldn't help her, and she didn't want to help herself, the more desperate I was to leave. The relief I felt when I got to campus, and submerged myself in the education, was palpable. So I wasn't, and I'm not, happy to be back. I feel full of fear, and dread. I went to the place last night, and I sat in my old room. It felt smaller than I remembered...and I felt the energies of years of sadness, self-discovery, significant spiritual experiences, all just sitting in there. I was overwhelmed.

I realize now that the fact that I saw and felt all that I did tells me that I changed a lot in the 4 and a half months I was gone. If things seemed the same to me, it would mean my perspective didn't change. But they seemed different, thus my perspective did change, which in turn means I as a person changed.

But I'm still fearful. My biggest fear is that the classmate that gave me a ride home is going to forget/decide not to bring me back. If that happens, I'm not sure what I'll do... I prayed and continue to pray that he remembers to pick me up. I pray that he's more dependable than most others in my life have proven to be.

I'm also not sure what I'll do or where I'll stay for the next 3 weeks. I'm bored, and I'm lonely.

All of this dramatic stuff so far is teaching me one thing...I've got no home. I've got places I can go for shelter...but I don't have a home. A place with loving family or friends, a place where I'm not only welcome, but also invited. For some reason, in this lifetime I'm to go without a loving supportive family. All of my immediate family members are incapable of giving me the care and love that most "normal" families do. I'm pretty much on my own emotionally/mentally and even physically.

Is this Karma? Or did my Divine Mother and Father choose this for me?

Either way...it could be a lot worse. If anything, it's toughening me up, and making me even more determined and capable of doing what I want in my lifetime, and making myself into what and who I want to be.

Gods be with me.