I am in the process of packing everything to move house. That is dysregulating at the best of times, however I have found something interesting over the past week.
One of the first things I started doing was packing up my bookshelves. As much as I love being surrounded by books, I don’t use them every day, so they were the easiest things to pack.
I have found it surprising how dysregulating this is.
Even simply sitting watching TV isn’t what it was as the shelves under it are empty of books!
I am realising that books and being surrounded them is part of what makes my space safe for me.
Having bookshelves overflowing with books, some I haven’t read yet, others I have read numerous times, ones I have read once and probably won’t read again, is regulating for me.
These books give me comfort, they make my space a home.
Being surrounded by books is my happy place.
I can’t cope with some bookshops where there is little space between shelves or they are dark and feel claustrophobic for me, but I like being surrounded by books in bookshops and libraries.
Looking around my space that is littered with packed boxes and empty bookshelves is incredibly dysregulating and I can’t wait to be in my new place and arranging those books on my shelves and making the space my home.
This is also something I think I knew in the back of my head, but didn’t have the words for before…
Living in a space with bookshelves is what I need. When I ask if a house has enough room for my bookshelves, it’s not just me joking about how many bookshelves I have, it’s actually important!
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