Once I had moved out of home for the first time at 20, then James and I bought our house when I was 21 I never thought I’d be back home (at my parents) It was going along lovely until that dreaded Sunday when I was 24 and a half. It’s all been down hill from there, it’s hit the flat ground and I think (probably) the hardest challenge is coming to reach the top level of the hills were I started. Basically it might have already hit rock bottom, so it won’t get worse but it may also get harder trying to reach were I started. I’m grateful for all the support I have but feeling ungrateful for the horrendous climb back up the hill to the starting peak point (though I suppose I need to look at how fit/tough it may make me)
re:broken 