Letting the dust settle

The past few months have been a whirlwind of activity and it’s reasonable to say that having just tied up the loose ends in LA, I’m feeling quite emotionally drained.

Twenty years is a long time and over the past six months I haven’t really allowed myself time to transition as I’ve been in survival mode. 

From arriving in London in February to packing up my stuff in August, to returning to London and now being in France in September, the changes I’ve gone through this year have finally started to hit and I’m feeling disjointed and completely overwhelmed.

I’m scared and stressed, worried about the future, mourning the past and preparing to start a new part of my life. I need to take the next leap of faith and I’m quivering on the edge, terrified of what lies ahead. I know I need to jump, that there are arms to catch me but I need to trust myself and that’s my biggest fear. I’ve spent a lot of my life alone, soldiering on and battling against the challenges and now, to be able to trust and believe is the hardest thing of all.

I’m exhausted physically and emotionally and I suspect there are going to be quite a few tears this week as the dust begins to settle and then, when the time is right, I’ll leap…

Pack ‘n Purge Day Three

Another day of packing and we’ve made amazing progress. The boxes I’m shipping are organised. The majority of the furniture has gone, dispersed to new homes or simply taken away to be recycled and my old apartment is looking very empty.

My custom-made platform bed was dismantled after twelve years and reduced to sheets of plywood and suddenly my lovely tranquil bedroom wasn’t my bedroom any more.
By the end of the day I was getting emotional. I’d sold my kitchen table and chairs for a fraction of what it was worth and after it all went, I looked at the kitchen floor and was overwhelmed with memories of Pig. 
In the later years when she wasn’t well, Pig spent a lot of time lying under the kitchen table and, looking at the place where she used to lie, I was suddenly aware of the life I had lived in my little Venice garden apartment. I had loved and lost, laughed and cried, had good times and bad but always within the same walls. It wasn’t much but it was my home and I loved it.
I’m embarking on a new adventure and I’m very excited but this week is a big emotional transition. Letting go of the past in order to move on.