Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Moving on

"Moving on" after the move is proving to be more difficult than I’d thought.
I moved once before in my life : out of my parents’ house, into my Brussels’ apartment. And I remember those first months were tough. I missed my room, my cats, the garden, the smell of coffee in the morning, etc. But in the weekends, I could always return (and I did). It was all still there, waiting for me. When I moved to France for 6 months, the same was true for my apartment : it was still there, I could always go back whenever I wanted.

Now, big move number two has taken place : out of my Brussels’ apartment, into the new Brussels’ apartment with P. My old place doesn’t even exist anymore. It’s an empty place, four walls, waiting for someone else’s furniture. I can never go back – it’s gone, forever. This is a first-timer for me. And boy, am I having a hard time with it. I wake up at night crying because I feel so homesick. I drive aimlessly around because I feel I have no place to « go home » to. I feel as a visitor in the new place because it’s not giving me the feelings of warmth and safety that a home is supposed to give (also literally, as we’ ve been without any warm water or heating for two full days now…). I look forward to going back to work next week, simply because my old office feels more familiar than this living room I’m sitting in right now.

Yes, I know these things take time. And everybody keeps telling me that after a few months, this will feel like home. But right now, I’m so overwhelmed by all those other feelings, that’s it’s hard to believe this. I know all the « focus-on-the-positive-blah-blah » : I have a great apartment now, a big terrace, a fancy cooking island, P and I finally moved in together, we have a garage for the cars, etc, etc. Believe me, I try to focus on all of this. But it’s emotion-overload all over again. Uncontrollable, unstoppable, overwhelming sensitivity.

Am I crazy to have such a hard time with this ? Probably so. I see people all around me, moving from one place to another, from one country to another…without much effort, without anything more than the occasional little blues. I haven’t seen anybody completely out of balance because they moved to the other side of town. So yes, on top of everything else, I feel ridiculous, ashamed and clueless on how to deal with myself.
Some rest is much needed after this horrible summer of moves, hospitals and arguments. Going back to work next Monday might, ironically (and hopefully), do the trick.

Friday, August 22, 2008

Planet Hospital

After weeks on planet "Move", I've now continued my voyage through outer space to land on planet "Hospital" (planets "Holiday" and "Break" seem to be in another galaxy, or have disappeared into a giant black hole). Right after the final boxes were unpacked,my mom got a call to tell her that she was expected in hospital the very next day. So since Monday that's where I've spent 99% of my time. Surgery was on Tuesday, now we're on the road to recovery (hopefully).

Planet Hospital is not a very nice place to be, and I already had to face battle. I won't go into detail, but give just one clarrifying example of this war-zone. My mom was away for surgery for over 6 hours. one could tell us how this went, or give us any feedback whatsoever. No one told us we could actually go and see her in the recovery room (we found out ourselves through the reception). We had to beg a nurse to write down my phone number, so that the doctor could call me later(he was again called away for an emergency). First, after more than six hours of waiting, we were bluntly told that this was "not done". No, we don't take phone numbers here. No, doctors don't call relatives who have been waiting for news whole day long. This was followed by a minor nuclear explosion on my side, some peace talks on P's side, and finally: victory, 'cause dear doctor did call to give the very long awaited feedback.

However, the war against the little (wo-)men in green continues, as painkillers are not working, fevers are "forgotten" and left untreated, and "within 10 minutes" can mean anything from "within two hours" to "not for today, maybe tomorrow".
Strange that it's those very same green (wo-)men that are actually saving my mom's life...

Monday, August 11, 2008

I survived

Barely. And that's really all there is to say about this move. Take it from me : moving from 3 apartments (my place, P's place - in storage, and the Barbizon place) to 1 is hell. I had to throw loads away (12 huge garbage bags, and still counting), I had to drive box after box back to my parents (who were not amused), and I still have a few boxes to "give away" (anyone in need of a toaster, a water cooker or a red flower vase?).
Forget all the romance about "moving in together". It was constant war: your vacuum cleaner or mine? Your coffee cups or mine? Your choice at IKEA or mine? Speaking of which, IKEA has seen me for breakfast, lunch and/or dinner this week. And if it wasn't IKEA, it was Mc Donalds. Strangely enough, I still managed to loose so much weight due to stairclimbing, lifting stuff, and simple stress, that I fit back into my oldest jeans.
No, it hasn't been nice. I have felt homeless, and so at loss that I wondered if I indeed was/ am authistic (as P claims from time to time). Maybe it was because this was my first apartment. Maybe because I've never done this before : leaving a place to never return there. Maybe because I couldn't take anymore emotional stress after all that has already happened this year. Maybe because I'm so attached to all the things I gattered through the years. Whatever the reason(s) : I can safely say that I never want to go through something like this again. Next time, I plan to outsource the whole business, and go on a holiday for two weeks. So basicaly, I'm not moving again until I can afford exactly that.... That, and already assembled furniture.