Moving house… I think we all commit to ‘never moving again’ at the time when we are in the throws of it – then the family grows, requirements change, a project looms on the horizon and guess what? We do it again!
Back to my whirlwind of a Summer last year (2018) I found myself and family in that exact situation. We decided ‘spur of the moment’ to move. A house was found, ours went on the market, went under offer and literally overnight solicitors were instructed.
The bitter sweet process started.
My slightly fragile (1.5 years postpartum) mental health was sabotaged within weeks. It felt like the oh so comfy carpet at number 50 was whipped from under my feet – then the cracks started to show.
What had been our safe haven for 5 years (2 new babies, a business and family life) was moving forward yet the supposed new family home was not playing ball.
Survey’s, valuations, reports, prices, builders were all going off piste.
Out of my mentally safe plan of action.
It was an effort to know where to stop and trawl back control. I think looking back I was a sinking ship – my husband was abroad with work so couldn’t help through the time difference. The selling Agent was all for the sale at whatever cost. The seller was not.
We were lucky with our agents Bradford & Howley they were brilliant and went above and beyond their ‘paid’ process to personally help me out. Same for Home Property Finders who helped me out of my slump and relocated us temporarily.
Our purchase fell through 4 days after our exchange on number 50.
Soooo. Long story short we were moving. Moving out that is with nowhere to sign on the dotted line, no new door to open, no threshold to watch my babies run through. I remember crying. I’m not a cryer. It was for what we were leaving, all our memories, all our STUFF to sort out. So much stuff!
Marie Kondo would have a fit. A loft full of crap basically – artwork from school, diaries from teenage years, clothes that will never fit but have memories, baby bits that had no use and I had to start sorting, shifting, clearing with nowhere to take them.
Shock took over. Feeling numb is a coping mechanism right? It’s a process of grief. On the outside I think I looked OK, I carried on with my school run, holiday planning, clearing and winding down work.
On the inside my brain was frazzled, my nerves were shot and my patience suffered. Who suffers? Those closest – my husband, my kids, my family. Who helps you out? Close friends.
If you find yourself moving house then write lists – start clearing a room at a time straight away and accept help! Childcare is the best help to get rooms cleared – nothing worse than making a start and then the kids deciding they want to keep every single paperclip, shred of paper and 2000 cuddly toys.
A year later we are settled in our new home and Im ready to give the next instalment (soon).