Email from landlady. Open House scheduled for Feb 20th. Cleaners showing up Monday. Landlady showing up Sunday so she can contemplate how to frame the apt for pictures (including props), since she'd like to respect my Sabbath.
Means I don't get till the end of the month (a week off) from thinking about this and not dealing with anxiety.
I'm going to try and relax for most of the rest of today and see about what needs sorting for her visit on Friday.
An open house is such an obvious step. Solid. Makes it feel very much more likely that I'll be dealing with a new landlord for a year (because I cannot see myself being prepared to up and move this year in the time I have left). I'm just... wham. Anxiety again.
PS: And my spine is still sharp shooting pains and aching. Crap damn.
I hate not feeling safe in my own space. I hate feeling as if it isn't my own space. I hate the mental triggers that someone's going to judge me on how I handle my space and I'll never live up and I'll always feel I'm lacking in figuring out how to make my space my home - balancing energy with effort. And just... too complicated to put into words. But at least I kept my promise and mentioned it.