So I have been back for a week or so and have sunk back in to the normal routine of summer holidays.
I have moved my desk space upstairs into the boys’ bedroom so I can work in peace (with background snores) during the day and there’s a bit more air flow than in the downstairs study which mostly smells of stale boys.
I’m not particularly enthused about doing any work but at least I have a decent environment in which to do it.
I am also not particularly enthused about doing any cooking or tidying up. I’m trying to let that one go.
I have in the last week gone swimming twice. We have a new swimming pool (not even six months old) and it’s rather a pleasure to be in. It couldn’t compare to a warm blue sea under a blue sky but it’s a reasonable compromise. I have one or two others to try that aren’t on quick bus routes so were off my list.
Health-wise, the decision to leave has proven a good one. In the ten days or so I’ve been back my lungs have tightened up, my nose has become full of crap again, my breathing has become restricted. My heart seems to be pumping louder although my blood pressure seems fine when I take it. I wonder whether I can afford to wait four years.
I have indulged in fanciful thinking and been looking at house prices and locations. I’ve even begun to consider the minimalistic modular housing. This is much more fun than actually looking at jobs and where I could realistically go and how. I’m in a council house and whether I can swap for another council house I do not know. The sensible thing to do if I can’t do a council swap is to rent for a while before considering buying but I’m amazed that buying might actually be within my grasp. Given that my current home (2 bedroom Victorian mid-terrace in need of decoration) is worth over £650,000 at current mad London prices this is a totally new concept.
I will certainly need to downsize and get rid of stuff. I have an awful lot of stuff. Much of it I’ve been reluctant to throw it away as it protects me from feeling vulnerable from not having it and not being able to afford to buy it when I do want it. I have kitchenware that has been unused for years that I have been reluctant to get rid of because one day I might start cooking again. The Lego is not going.
So on the one hand I’m thinking about moving away from London and all the anxiety that does invoke (just walking into a strange leisure centre scared me) and on the other I’m considering cleaning out cupboards.
My energy levels have plummeted and I’m just a short blip away from being depressed as I return to a “normal” life. But I recognise this and am trying to be kind to myself and let it go.