Some people have never been home in their lives.

? Recently, I am reading The Power of Self-growth by Cong Cong Fei. There is a chapter in it: some people have never been home in their lives. I saw this topic of a friend in a circle of friends. I didn't expect this to be the part I would see the next day. I just feel that the topic has stung my heart, and compared with the warmth of my friends, it has stung my blood.

? The next day, I opened the book, chose a very warm music, and with a depressed mood, began to read aloud:

? My understanding of home is first and foremost a harbor. The biggest feeling of home should be a home and a stop. When you are tired, home gives you warmth and hugs; When you are lonely, home will accompany you; When you are lonely, your family gives you support; When you are wronged, someone understands you; When you are helpless, you can get comfort; When you are happy, you can be spoiled and willful; When you make a mistake, someone tells you that it doesn't matter, you can make a mistake. Home is a place to charge.

? However, the reality is that for many people, these are extravagant hopes. Many people have never been home in their lives, but their families are there, but they feel like orphans.

? That's the home I yearn for. In the light, there is a touch of orange that I can see when I look up. Among Qian Qian's thousands of voices, there are laughter that I can hear carelessly, hot meals cooked by my mother, hey hey smiles at me when my father smokes, and my brother touches my head. However, the reality is that there are some hot meals I cooked for my mother, some instant noodles I made for my brother, some scolding from my mother when I burned my eyebrows, some ridicule when my mother threw down the newly dug vegetable cellar, some telling me that le neck tried to commit suicide with a small hemp rope, some telling me to be a good wife and mother, some telling me to do more things and talk less, and some parents fighting many times.

? These impressions give me the feeling that although I am not an orphan, I am lonely. I don't know what it means to be spoiled in my mother's arms. I have something to say to my mother. If my mother knew I thought so, she would scold me, too I am raised for nothing, and I am a baiwenhang. It's not that if someone starts a topic and can't help telling his own story, it's nothing more than deep loneliness. I once caught the people around me like a straw and told my sufferings. I was so happy to see my son in my arms this morning that I was too tired to get up.

? I am afraid of the dark, too. Much better in recent years. A few years ago, when it was dark, I was afraid to go out, not for fear of darkness itself, but after going out, especially in a different place. I am surrounded by a strong sense of loneliness. Looking at the lights in other people's windows and the parties in groups of three or five, I feel that I belong to nowhere. I really want to find a place to hide, and my body is flustered. If someone is around, I have to hold ta tightly to ease my insecurity, and then I need to leave the wandering street.

? Poof ... take a breath, and I continue to read:

? When we were young, we didn't have a real home.

? We have no home when we grow up.

? The way our parents trained us in those years has been internalized into our subconscious, and we have learned to treat ourselves like this. Be strict with yourself, don't be rude at will, don't express your emotions casually, don't rest when you are tired, be sure to get their approval when you speak or do things, be very concerned about other people's comments, be busy, feel anxious when you are idle, and dare not trust others casually. ...

We have many requirements for ourselves, some of which can be achieved and some of which cannot, but we have been implementing these requirements. So we never warm ourselves, forgive ourselves, don't allow ourselves to sleep until noon, and don't allow ourselves to have a holiday without working for half a year. ...

Our souls have nowhere to put. Our ego has nowhere to put, and we can only escape by being busy.

? I am very wronged. When I was a child, I was asked to do so much housework. Why can my brother resign? Now I often complain that I want to be a good wife and mother. Why? Times have changed. Men cook at home and take care of their children. Why are you talking to me like this? ...

? I'm very tired. Wash clothes and cook at weekends, walk around the class, pay attention to physical care, and do your own thing. The only rest time is sleeping at night and watching TV with children for half an hour. I'm too tired to turn around. I want to rest, take a vacation and be alone. ...

? In fact, my husband is much better than before, buying breakfast, cooking with me, choosing dishes and washing dishes, washing dishes and mopping the floor, taking the baby to class and setting aside time for me. However, why am I still so dissatisfied and so tired? I am the person who "doesn't allow myself to have a half-year holiday if I don't work", because if I don't work, I won't have any money, and I'll get what I want for a penny. Life is too bitter.

? I just have a lot of demands on myself, and I unconsciously force myself to carry them out. My husband told me that "the ground is dirty" and I said "you can't even stand up". Is it because when I was a child, I swept melon seeds, cigarette butts, leaves, soil and snow at the door, leaving a deep obsessive-compulsive disorder?

? I won't warm myself either. It's not that I can't, but I can't learn. Spend a lot of money every month. I still feel cold after buying all kinds of clothes and shoes. I'm cold, and I'll keep buying, hoping to keep warm.

? I even want to have a chance to take me back to my childhood and see what experience I have had, which makes me so insecure, wronged, flattering and annoying now. The classmate said, I don't like you digging deep into yourself like this. However, I don't know where my scar is unless I dig deep. What can I do except to be tied to the window with a small rope all day? ...

? In retrospect, it can't be said that it is the only thing that can give me warmth. Father made a small cube shelf out of wire, and put the steamed buns of the previous day on the stove on the ground to bake. My brother and I squatted by the fire and waited until it was golden. Then my father lit a cigarette, sat on a small bench and looked at my starving brother. I couldn't bear to take a bite.

? Crying and laughing, continue to read:

? More unfortunately, you are still eager to see a home, eager for someone to understand you, comfort you, see your vulnerability and understand your loneliness. Although you don't understand it yourself and haven't sorted out this part, you just have a vague feeling. But when others don't understand, you will be angry, sad and even desperate.

? I have never felt at home in my life.

? It won't make people feel at home.

? I am so fragile that I can't stop a negative voice, a knocking voice. I really long for someone to understand me, although I am really confused myself. Many of my former friends were regarded as lifesavers by me, but I was too heavy and penniless. At home on Sunday, my husband advised me not to go for a long time because my child didn't go to the scheduled English audition class. I kicked the stool angrily and there was a loud noise. I was angry and stood in the living room and shouted, "What are you doing?" ! ! ! My voice was hoarse and it hurt for two days. I even knelt down and said to him, "Please don't drop something and make such a loud noise suddenly, I beg you", just like the time I knelt down to my mother many years ago. Tears and hair hanging on my face, like a madman. I don't know why I'm so afraid of bells and sudden sounds, as if everything is telling me that everything depends on you.

? In this bad state, I pointed the gun at my son again. He did everything wrong, completely lost his patience, and always gave him a meal. Like a vampire, he sucked away his vitality and gave me a second life. I want to live, although I said "I want to die". Yes, I didn't give him a home. I didn't feel at home after all. He was forced into the house because of his father, and like myself, he was forced into a corner. Too poor to hide. This kind of persecution is invisible, because none of us hit him, and my parents rarely hit me when I was a child.

? For an instant, the whole day, and the next day, all the denials, doubts, and grievances in their nests also cried miserably. My classmates came to ask me if these emotions were caused by ta. I said no, it was just my introduction at a specific time. In fact, I thought I was cured, and I worked hard for the children. But teacher Cong said: Those who think they are doing well are because they have never experienced what it's like to be at home. So, my friend told me that we all have our own growing parts.

? At the end of the book:.

? I built a model of my ideal home. We never had it, and we can't really have it.

? But we can see how we lost our homes instead of being lonely, anxious, depressed and confused all the time. The purpose we see is to give ourselves a home.

? We were never really warm when we were young, but we can warm ourselves when we grow up. At least, you can give yourself a home. Let yourself go, allow yourself to fail, allow yourself to be poor, allow yourself to be irregular, and allow yourself to be willful. This is not connivance and connivance.

? Pampering and pampering mean: you don't believe that human nature has upward potential, and you don't believe in yourself. You don't believe that people can continue to work after a rest. Just like you don't believe that your mobile phone can't be fully charged, what should I do if it doesn't work after a long time?

? This morning, I had a dream that I really couldn't control my son. I held him with a rope, much like I was tied to the window, and my mother tied me to the window. In my dream, I understood her. In fact, after several exercises in my relationship with my parents, I have put down a lot. She is really difficult to get along with. People who can take me to work in the fields probably take me with them. However, it was too difficult to send me to my grandmother's house. This is not right. I sent her to my grandmother's house. I didn't stay. The next day, my uncle had no choice but to pull me back. She is taking full care of me, and I really don't want to leave the home that makes me lonely.

? Open your eyes and look at your sleeping son next to you. Well, this is the feeling of home. I can have it or give it.