A return to childhood

On one level I'm very lucky. I'm surrounded by people who love and support me and at this time in my life that's so very important. However, at least 5 times a day I have the following thought: I am TWENTY-NINE and living with MY MOM. Ahhhhhh!

Roughly a year ago my parents' divorce was finalized - a 25-year marriage ended. It was long overdue and desperately needed. Both parents remarried quickly, meaning I live with my mom and her husband... using 'stepdad' is beyond me. I think if a parent remarries after you can legally drink whatever they do doesn't change the titles in your life. I'm going with that. The dynamic is strange at best. I've not been home for more than a summer for more than 10 years and even then I showered and slept and left. I never enjoyed just hanging around the house and with a car and an income I didn't have to. Ten years later I am without said car and income and unused to not having a calming cup of tea and a book read before bed...in silence. I do so miss silence.

I'm a daughter, but not a child anymore - yet I've not been home significantly since I lost the latter title and my state of dependency doesn't much help my case. I get chores to do and told the time when something will happen. I'm not consulted about it, just told. Truthfully, I have no transportation or duties, so anytime is good (in theory). It's the principle of the matter though. I've lost my options and I don't even get an allowance for it. I'm close to putting stickers and passwords on all my things. Privacy, I miss that too.

My life state is one of fluxuation. I can't join a gym because I don't know where I'll be next month. I can't afford a car. I could get a temp job (yes, H, I know, I know) but that would mean that I have less time to look for a job... or just regain sanity.

I've returned to hanging out in 'my room' - which, presently, is my mom's husband's office with a daybed in it. Occasionally someone will walk in looking for something. It's beyond feeling like my space is being invaded. It feels like I don't belong. At least I have an incentive not to linger. If it was spring, I'd rent a car and just drive... space, sanity, silence, privacy.