I don’t even know where to start but I guess a good place would be an update of what’s been going on in the last year. Can’t believe it’s been a year since I last posted.
I kind of gave up with blogging, purely because my life became too busy, I had to prioritise and well this had to go. It would be an understatement if I said that this last year has been an easy ride, because quite frankly it’s going to be one I want to forget.
I’m still training to be a counsellor and I hopefully finish in Jan 2019 and believe you me that light at the end of the tunnel is the only thing pulling me through. As a counsellor and an active mental health enthusiast you would think, self care was at the top of that list. Well…. it’s not. I’ve juggled many job moves (through personal choice), a placement, trying to gain 100 clinical hours, personal therapy which by the way has been my toughest journey yet and also buying a house!
Now I could literally write soooo much on each and every one of those topics and I might choose to do that later on but today I really want to focus on first time buyers. To discuss how mental health comes in to buying a house. I’ve been extremely lucky and lived at the same house for 26 years!! I know, I have never moved….. this however has lead to some seriously unhealthy attachments.
My boyfriend was the one that wanted to start saving and whilst I agreed initially, I think I secretly pushed it to the back of mind thinking that day would never come. Well of course I was wrong, he worked incredibly hard and to be fair so have I, saving every penny possible and building up our bottom draw (it’s a UK thing, google it). Before I knew it we found a house and the process started. We didn’t buy just any old house though, no, we brought a shitter or a little project, which later turned into the biggest stress of my life.
You see, I have already written a post about social media and all the lies behind it but it really is true. No matter what you see, it’s always positive, the classic photo stood at your front door with keys in your hand, happy as larry or the perfectly precise picture of each room that doesn’t look lived in. Well, let me tell you, moving in has been horrible. I’ve cried since the day I got here, whilst I managed to stall moving in when we first got the keys due to building work, there was going to come a day that the upstairs was completely finished, liveable and I had to move in.
It’s been nice coming to the house in the evening and on weekends, but I always had that little voice in the back of my head tell me, Melissa it’s okay, you get to go home after this and that always kept me going. Don’t get me wrong, it was exhausting, I literally slept, worked, went to college, went to therapy, saw clients at my placement, ate, painted, pulled down walls, sanded, painted some more, cleaned dust from my ears, wore the same paint clothes for a month and basically didn’t see daylight. Now mix that with mental health, it was just a disaster waiting to happen.
The day we actually decided to move in I refused to take all my stuff. My bed and furniture, a lot of my shoes and clothes are still there. I just couldn’t bring myself to put my belongings in this strange environment that I didn’t call home. The downstairs is just awful, it’s cold, dark, holes in walls and just a dusty building site, so we had to make the best out of what we had.
I cried my eyes out when I left my house with some of my stuff, seeing my mums face when I was leaving was the most heartbreaking thing I have ever had to face. I could see she was trying to hold it together for my sake but tbh this just made me want to cry even more. There was even a point, I ran upstairs to my room, sat on my bed and felt like someone was strangling me, I couldn’t breathe. I had to pull it together just to get out the door. As soon as I left, I cried on the journey to my new house, which btw is 10 mins away! Lol
Fast forward to the evening and we had a shed load to do, everything was just overwhelming. Food shopping was completely foreign to me and lets not forget about how the hell we are going to afford everything! I mean responsibilities literally hit me in the face with a frying pan , however, we managed!
We brought frozen pizza and all I could think about was, I want to go home, where my real home is, sit in my bed and curl up watching my favourite programmes and eating pizza…… but instead I had to sit in a cold dingy space, in silence wondering if I’ll sleep tonight. Your probably thinking this girl is so ungrateful, there are so many people struggling to get on the ladder and she’s here moaning she’s got her own house and has to leave mummy. Well it’s so much more than that. No one tells you how hard it will be, how much I would want to just take my stuff and move back home, pretend like we never brought a house. But I’m good at that, I’m good at running away from commitment, it’s basically my middle name.
I told myself I have to stay with the uncomfortable feeling and things will get better. I mean, it hasn’t been easy, I’ve probably cried about 10 times since yesterday but I’m lucky to have the boyfriend I do, because he really has been supportive and tried his best to comfort me. Even to the point of lighting candles in the bathroom so I can turn the light off because he knows I like it dark! This one will make you laugh and to be honest will make me sound like a weirdo but this is real life and I like to be honest, mental health isn’t meant to be pretty….. he even suggested me staying at my mums 50% of the time and 50% at my house with him until I’m used to it.
You see, moving out is ugly, I’m sure it will have many happy memories in the future but for now, I’m just trusting the process and hoping it will get easier. I just want people to know that your not alone. Don’t be afraid to talk about it. I’m hoping sharing all this will help someone else because I could sure as hell do with a little help right now. However, I think that’s enough waffle for now and hopefully I’ll keep this whole blogging thing up. Seems like I have enough to share after this essay!