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sessifetSoooo. This whole moving thing. It's getting awfully close now: in less than four days I'll have left the great North Wet and will be living in Cheltenham. My house is filled with boxes. I have cancelled what needs cancelling. Things have been thrown out. Some things I gave to mum so she can bestow it on people as needed. Other things have been deconstructed and are patiently awaiting a new place in their new home. There's all this...Stuff happening and going on and I can't get emotional about it. I can't get happy or sad or scared about it. I find it difficult to connect to this thing. It's all so...distant. Unreal. I should be ecstatic about moving in with the love of my life, right? But instead, I feel like there's a mile between me and the rest of the world and honestly, it's been freaking me out quite a bit.
Until just now. Because I remember this feeling. I know exactly what's happening: this is what I felt late 2007. I'd quit my job and visited![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hobnobs and the_ladylark early November to get to know the place I was going to live less than a month later. The moment I set foot in the UK and saw what was going to be my new house, I lost my home back home*. Leaving and going back to The Netherlands for the last time was incredibly hard. I remember feeling this same emotional distance for the whole month. Sure, I panicked. I flapped. I covered an entire office door in post-it notes. There was weebling and weeping and saying goodbye and a shitload of ducks to get in a row. But overall, I wasn't really there. It's like everything woke up one morning and went 'Right, emotions? You lot are taking a backseat for a while. We're in charge now'.
And it's been done again. My emotions have mostly been shunted off on to a different track while the rest of me is dealing with this whole moving thing. I'm looking forward to living withazekeil and building a life together. I'm looking forward to the arguments about inconvenient socks and the fact that he snores and that I gnash my teeth and whether or not we want to paint the kitchen bright purple**. I'm looking forward to the love and the hugs and the fusses. I just can't feel it at the moment. I know it's there. If I try to get close to it, I start panicking because I'm not done yet. There's still so much to do and something's going to happen to ruin it all and what if no-one welcomes me home and oh gods can it be Friday now please? Until it is actually physically happening, I can't get close to how I feel about the whole thing.
So...expect massive amount of flail on Friday. Also happy. Also potentially complaints about ducks not getting onto a row like they're supposed to.
Long story short: I'm weird.
* I swear this makes sense in my head.
** Don't worry, sweetie, we're not painting the kitchen bright purple!
Until just now. Because I remember this feeling. I know exactly what's happening: this is what I felt late 2007. I'd quit my job and visited
hobnobs and the_ladylark early November to get to know the place I was going to live less than a month later. The moment I set foot in the UK and saw what was going to be my new house, I lost my home back home*. Leaving and going back to The Netherlands for the last time was incredibly hard. I remember feeling this same emotional distance for the whole month. Sure, I panicked. I flapped. I covered an entire office door in post-it notes. There was weebling and weeping and saying goodbye and a shitload of ducks to get in a row. But overall, I wasn't really there. It's like everything woke up one morning and went 'Right, emotions? You lot are taking a backseat for a while. We're in charge now'.And it's been done again. My emotions have mostly been shunted off on to a different track while the rest of me is dealing with this whole moving thing. I'm looking forward to living with
azekeil and building a life together. I'm looking forward to the arguments about inconvenient socks and the fact that he snores and that I gnash my teeth and whether or not we want to paint the kitchen bright purple**. I'm looking forward to the love and the hugs and the fusses. I just can't feel it at the moment. I know it's there. If I try to get close to it, I start panicking because I'm not done yet. There's still so much to do and something's going to happen to ruin it all and what if no-one welcomes me home and oh gods can it be Friday now please? Until it is actually physically happening, I can't get close to how I feel about the whole thing. So...expect massive amount of flail on Friday. Also happy. Also potentially complaints about ducks not getting onto a row like they're supposed to.
Long story short: I'm weird.
* I swear this makes sense in my head.
** Don't worry, sweetie, we're not painting the kitchen bright purple!
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no subject
Date: 2011-05-23 11:10 pm (UTC)Seriously, you need to relax. :)
no subject
Date: 2011-05-24 12:51 am (UTC)(One thing: known 'safe' music helps. So for the next few days I'll be listening to anything and everything that is familiar :).)
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Date: 2011-05-24 06:45 am (UTC)Good luck.
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Date: 2011-05-24 07:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-24 11:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-24 11:39 am (UTC)Safe music sounds like a good idea, if it helps you to relax a bit. The same goes for safe reading, if you re-read something familiar that you know you like.
no subject
Date: 2011-05-24 12:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-24 01:49 pm (UTC)Breathing, meditating, music, and minimal caffeine are all things which help me...