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Home Sweet Home

Just 3 words, but they mean a lot. For the Mouse, the sweet went in the bin … Mouse best tell the story properly.

Back when the Mouse moved out, the Mouse says moved out, what he means was, booted out. The Mouse had stood up a little too much and was misbehaving a little too often, so control slipping away, the Mouse was booted. The Mouse felt a weight had been lifted, of course not knowing what would follow, the Mouse thought this was escape and release. How wrong that turned out to be, the Mouse’s reaction was part of his downfall.

A very short time (under 2 weeks) after being told to go the Mouse moved into a small 2 bed starter home, rented of course, it was nicely furnished, simple but not bare. The Mouse moved what he had in, bought a tumble dryer (no tv yet) and set about building a life. Mouse changed the curtains, bought some cushions, the Mouse was determined that this house would be homely, not a crash pad full of unpacked boxes and and the signs of a destroyed life. Whatever happened this house was going to be a home.

And that is how the word sweet got to be in the bin. On the dining table went a red teapot, which always had a few flowers in it. It was kept clear, and Mouse would sit at it to eat, because Mouse likes sitting at the table. In the corner of the room was the side unit Mouse had bought, facing the stairs, and on it was the word home. The other home went above the lounge door, facing the front door, so when Mouse came in, it was there, reminding him, he was home. Sweet went in the bin because it was cheaper to buy Home Sweet Home, than it was to buy one nice Home in simple wooden lettershtb1xgzahxxxxxcuaxxxq6xxfxxxb

Home is a sanctuary, somewhere safe, and these Home’s were reminders that Mouse was for the most part safe in that house. Sure his abuser had smashed the Glass on the front door window and been round screaming and shouting, and by reports looking in the windows. But even so, that house was safety. It was the Mouse’s space. Mouse made it, Mouse bought a TV, a DVD cabinet, bedding, and the blackout curtains isolated the world away. Mouse ate with his cutlery from His plates, cooked with his pans, used his Toaster, Kettle and Microwave, and Slow Cooker. It was his Freezer too. Mouse proved to himself that He could, not just survive, not cope, but thrive. Mouse weathered the storm, took the hits, and in that little house Mouse, grew just enough, learned what had been lies not through words but through life and actions. That Home, was where the Mouse’s journey started.

Mouse still has those words, they are in his new home. They serve as a reminder not just of that small starter home, where the Mouse found freedom and began his healing journey, but as a reminder of what a home really is. Home is a sanctuary, it is where you are accepted, forgiven, supported, loved – simply because you are you. A home is where you are given not as a reward for actions or utility but a place where you, as you, are loved because of, and not in spite of all your imperfections. Something Mouse did not know for over 40 years. In that home Mouse was no longer crushed, told he was unlovable or that he deserved to hurt, nothing would be newly broken, nothing would be missing. The time would not be wrong, or too much or too little from the supermarket. That home may have looked empty, but to the Mouse it was full of excitement, expectation and opportunity. Today Home still is a calm harbour in the storm, Mouse’s sanctuary, base of operations, and it is still full of excitement and opportunity 🙂

 

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