I haven’t updated in a while now, but since last I wrote here, I got my apartment to myself again. R moved in with his girlfriend on trial during the second week in March – he planned to stay there about three weeks, then come back for a couple of weeks before staying there a few more weeks – so they could see if it worked for them to live together. During the first weekend in April he came and picked up his things, apparently it worked between them and they decided to properly move in together right away – fine by me.

Today it ended between them. So R wrote to me and asked about coming back here in the beginning of May.

And I’ve spent the whole day after that near an anxiety attack. And every time I really think about having somebody else living here right now, I end up shaking.

Reason: I’m quite comfortable right now, with the apartment (that I’ve given a thorough cleaning), with my work placement (that’s going really well and I love), with my social situation (that’s pretty chill and completely on my own terms at the moment), with my personal projects (baking for my up-coming birthday, cosplay planning and making, costume making, other small stuff in the process of being created) – I’m not at a place right now where I want (or can handle) constant interaction with somebody else, I need to be able to be in my own world, my own space, without the presence of other human beings. Otherwise everything else – including my mind – will end up suffering. Because I can’t handle that right now. And I really don’t want to end up backtracking my well-being.

So I did one of the hardest things for me to do: I put myself first. I told R that I don’t think I can handle him moving back here right now. That I need to think about myself for the time being.

It took me many hours to send him my response, because I have trouble with putting myself first. I feel guilty and like I’m doing something wrong, even though I’m not.

He’ll get to store his stuff here, and I told him I’ll tell him if the situation changes.

It’s now the middle of the night (give or take a few hours, depending on your definition of “middle of the night”) and I can’t muster up the energy to get tired enough for sleep. My anxiety levels are too high, and I feel really bad about basically being part of R being homeless again. But I need to think about myself, about my own mental health, put myself first for once.

There’s nothing wrong with that, right? I’m not being too selfish, am I?