I'M STILL YOUR FAG

I don't know why but some periods of my life are filled with weeks and even months where i find it terribly difficult to write. I think about writing and the whole notion repulses me. I'm not sure if it is a mix of laziness or the fear of accepting/dealing with what is going on in my head. It's easier to just let it go on passively but i've been in that place before, i cannot go back there again. I have to filter out my thoughts, even if i tremble with fear at the idea of really hearing them. It is good. It will be good for me. This is something i need to learn.
The truth is, i'm usually honest and open with myself, denial is a rarity in my head but maybe i've been trying to convince myself that i am okay. I am okay, i'm more than that i'm happy. Am i not?
I am currently at home, the home where my parents habitat. I haven't been home in 6 weeks. I've been at university. I thought that i'd find it so difficult being "alone" but the transission process from a life of safety to a life of raw independence was exhilarating. It wasn't difficult at all, the place, the people and the course felt unquestionably right. It is my new home.
I never imagined sitting in my room, in my first home and calling another place home.
Why is it that right now i feel sad and tired. 
I've only been here a few days and all the memories of the last year are rushing back. The battles i faced.... The battles that need to be let go. I'm not sure how to let them go. It's all mixed up right now