Hubby is home, today is his day off and he has come back to help me pack up this house.  I thought I was doing well, but there are so many decisions to be made it is making my head hurt.

How do we have so much stuff?  It is a mystery to me, we moved here just over three years ago, and only brought exactly what we needed.  It is a continual surprise to find so many items and a huge challenge to know what to do with them

This morning in the kitchen it all got too much.   I really, really don’t want to be leaving here, I love this little house, the one that has driven me crazy as its small rooms are never quite big enough, but where I thought I was secure.  I thought I was making a forever home, well at least a for the foreseeable future home.  I cannot get my head around how fast all this has happened and it is actually breaking my heart.

Brave face on daily, I joke about moving on, looking forward to a life in our lovely place.  I am celebrating Hubby’s good fortune in finding a job he is clearly going to love, what is not to like?  Inside I am so sad.

To cheer us we have booked a weekend in Hubby’s home town for Autumn time.  We shall take part in a sponsored walk, which will be fun, and it has made me think,.   I spend so much time doing stuff I don’t have to do. I love the work we have done to support refugees, but if I think about the hours and hours I have spent on this, I am left wondering why?  I look at other people, who selfishly wander around the world, pleasing themselves.  Why don’t I do that?  Why am I brokenhearted not to be able to keep a home for my adult children, all of whom are very capable of taking care of themselves and why am I the one everyone seems to lean on, and where are they now?

A conversation this morning really hit home.  I asked for a bit of help, something I never do, and was rebutted harshly.  Not because the person I asked is horrid or because what I asked was a big thing, just because, at that moment that was reaction.  I felt upset, but then I worked out that the help I needed wasn’t even for me, it was for my daughter, and I need to let her sort herself out.  I know the person I asked will help and that they didn’t even know how much they hurt me, all will be well.  I have just never felt so powerless and rubbish.

Enough of the self pity, Mum would be furious with me, big girls pants need to go back on.  Trouble is I have no idea where they are, and even if they still fit me.  Right now it is actually all too much.