Why is moving so stressful.

Honestly I’m so frustrated and overwhelmed right now I just need to vent. I know moving is stressful no matter how smoothly it runs, but this is taking the piss.

Why am I moving.

I moved to a small village in Northamptonshire 9 years ago from Hertfordshire. I have hated every minute of living here.

From the moment I stepped foot into this place I’ve been judged, spoken about, looked down on and made to feel like I don’t belong.

I don’t belong, not here anyway. As soon as I open my mouth I get looked at in disgust because I have a proper southern accent and I’m common as muck. But, I’m a nice person, I’m polite, I have manners and morals…. I just don’t take no shit.

I was never even given a chance living here. I’m always misunderstood and taken the wrong way. This has been the most unfriendliest place I have ever lived, and I grew up on council estates in west London.

Moving is a fresh start.

I’ve always wanted to move out of this village. I have actually had quite a few lives over the years trying to go back to Hertfordshire but for some reason or another they fell through or the other season pulled out.

Every time I would get my hopes up that I’m finally going to get out of this place then my dreams would literally be shattered. Even though i didn’t completely grow up in Hertfordshire I’ve always felt like that’s home.

When I first moved here it was with my kids dad and I’m sure you’ll all learn soon what a shit show that turned out to be.

She chose happiness over history and never looked back.

Even though I don’t really hold memories of him in this house it’s the last thing that I still have that has some sort of connection to him. He was only ever here on and off when it took his fancy. I’ve moved on since then and only want to live in a house that has good memories.

Bitter sweet moving.

As much as we are ready to leave. It will be bitter sweet. As much as I have hated it, it’s the longest I have lived anywhere in my life.

My mum was a serial mover. We never lived anywhere longer then a few years. The amount of schools I went to was ridiculous. Nowhere was home. Me and my brother never had proper friends. By the time we made some we would be moved off to somewhere else.

I didn’t want that for my kids. When I moved here my son Harry was only 4 and I was pregnant with my first daughter Freya. She actually born in this house in the living room on the sofa. That was an experience I tell you.

I also had my second daughter Minnie here. Not in the house I managed to make it to hospital just in time with her, but this is the only place they know too.

The only place they have lived. They have all gone to the same school with the same people and teacher. Have made long term friends they have grown up with.

Moving guilt.

We aren’t going to far. We will be staying in Northamptonshire. It’s a different side though so the kids will have to change school. I’m really gutted about that part.

I keep going back and fourth in my head wether I am making the right decision or not. Am I going to do this and regret it. Will the kids settle in a new school. Will they be able to make decent friendships again. Will they be more isolated as they won’t have the same freedoms they have here living in a village.

I’m by no means a perfect mum but one thing I’m very conscious of is how my kids feel and how things will effect them. I think it’s because I was never considered as a child or made to feel like I was cared for.

Even writing this blog I feel sick to my stomach with worry. Am I doing the right thing? I keep having sleepless nights with anxiety and worry.

Let’s get logical.

So being as self contradicting as I always am, I have to remember why we are doing this. I have to dissect my thoughts and feelings and try to focus on the positives.

Although I can’t help but be scared. If I’m being honest which we all know I’m the queen of. I’m bloody petrified. No matter how much I hate it here, I have made a life for myself and my kids here. It’s my comfort zone in a weird better the devil you know kind of way.

Then I have to tell myself, it’s not just me and the kids anymore and that is the whole point in this.

There’s now a lot more of us. I met my now partner about a year and a half ago and he naturally moved in with us as the relationship progressed.

When he moved in he had his youngest daughter Ellie in his custody, so she lives with us also. He also had his dog Jackson and I had just got a puppy not long before I met him.

So now there is 2 adults 4 kids 2 dogs and his eldest daughter that stays with us weekends and holidays. We are all crammed into a small 3 bedroom house.

I’m not going to lie, it’s been carnage. I have actually found it really hard. I’m very particular with my house, how I like it kept, where things go and we are bursting at the seams.

Moving on.

This is what I have to remember, my life has moved on for the better. As much as it upsets me we have outgrown this house. It’s no longer practical for the life and family I have today.

It’s going to be hard, but the new house is huge! More bedrooms for the kids and a fresh start for my and my partner. Our first house together that no one else has lived in other then us.

A house we can feel with happy healthy memories. In a new place with no one holding something from the past over your head because they don’t realise life moves in and people change.

Moving struggles.

This is where the frustration and hair pulling comes into play. I’m not actually pulling my hair out so don’t worry. I’m just about to loose the will to live.

My housing are twats. I’m doing a mutual exchange and the other housing where I will be moving to have been amazing. They are on the ball! They have moved everything through so quickly.

Mine on the other hand, have been rude to myself, the person I’m moving with and the other housing. They have been ignoring contact and requests for paper work and checks from the other housing.

They seem to be purposely dragging their feet. I received a email today saying everything is done and approved to contact them with a moving date.

In my excitement of finally getting the go ahead after weeks of being messed around I rang my housing to do exactly what the email said tell them the date for the move.

The other housing want us to move on Monday, which is great. I tell my housing this for the women to be a pompous prick and say she will not accept any moving dates from me or the other tenant and she will not accept anything before the 25th October.

Why? Because she fucking can. Me and the person I’m swapping with are sat here with houses packed, vans on hold and she won’t even discuss why we can’t move yet when everything single thing that’s needs to be done…. HAS BEEN DONE!

I hate being left in limbo, especially when there’s no need for it. I can’t carry on packing because I don’t know how long I’m going to be here for.

We have no idea when she is going to give us a date or when that date will be. So it’s all just a waiting game depending on this woman’s mood.

I’m trying to tell myself this women must be a Karen and miserable because she seems to get a kick out of us not being able to move forward without her clicking her fingers.

I should feel bad for her and send her positive vibes.

I’ve already calmed down writing this. I can’t control other peoples actions and I shouldn’t get so wound up over someone else choosing to be a twat.

I’m better than this. Keeping everything crossed this will go ahead as soon as possible and hoping this women cheers up and let’s me move.

Moving is stressful!