It’s been about three months since I’ve moved out of my family home, mainly to be closer to work but also to grow more independently as a person.
It’s been a great experience so far. I grew up being the family princess. I have barely ever washed the dishes or my own clothes and rarely cleaned the house. This all has changed and I am so grateful for my mother and have a truer understanding of her hardships.
It’s difficult coming home to an empty house every night though. My housemate works nights so to drown out the quiet I turn on “Friends” and don’t sleep until I’m really tired. I’m so used to coming home from a long bus journey to the arms of my beloved mother but to come home to the sound of my own footsteps feels odd but I am getting familiar and comfortable, slowly.
In the 80’s my dad brought my mum to London from Bangladesh. Her first time living without family, just my aloof dad by her side.
She must have felt this loneliness. She must have cried for her mother like I do now. I wish my mother had a friend back then, she must have felt so stranded.
I feel so lucky to have the roomate I have now. I appreciate his kindness and caring nature. I notice every small thing he does, I notice everything but I don’t say anything. I am too awkward as a person. I don’t deserve any of it. I am so greatful for his company because the days I’m alone the only company are the demons in my head.
A few years ago I watched a documentary about a woman called Joyce Vincent who died alone in a small flat in London. Her body was found nearly three years after her death. It’s been years since I’ve watched this documentary but I think about her every now and then. I’m terrified because one day I might end up like her, alone in an empty house, unloved and unnoticed. I was only Nine in 2003 but I wish I knew her, I would have shown her love and tried to make her feel like she wasn’t alone in this world. I guess because all my life I’ve wanted someone to do the same for me, I’ve just wanted to be held and feel less alone. I wish someone told Joyce that she mattered. Because she did.