It’s passed midnight, so that means it’s officially Saturday. And I can’t sleep. My sporadic insomnia has an edge of panic attack to it. Spinning head, slightly numb hands. I know that my panic attacks are directly linked to my stress load. Let me see… In exactly one week my husband, daughter, dog and myself move in with my mom and her crazy dog (formerly my dog. But I seriously cannot handle his spaz anymore. Thus shipping him off to my moms. And now I’m going to be living with him again?!) in her super small 1 bed + loft room, 1.5 bath. Seriously, I’m guessing this place at about 1,000 square feet. I’m not packed nearly as much as I has planned due to delay of acquiring boxes. My mom is SO HAPPY we are moving in, so no pressure for me to be happy or anything. I feel like she isn’t acknowledging how hard this is for me, or for Hubster. Yes, of course there are things I’m looking forward to. Not being homeless. Less expenses. Extra help with Seedling. I know Seedling is going to be over-the-moon-thrilled to spend so much time with her Grammy. But yeah, just a lot of emotions. Loss of independence and privacy. Fears of tension and conflict. Loss of personal comforts – most of our stuff is going in storage. A few kitchen items, our clothes and dressers, Seedling’s crib and changing table and blackout curtains, a few books, a few knitting/craft projects, movies… That’s all that us coming with us. Everything from our table, plates and cups, couches and wall art, decorative curtains, Chiba cabinet, our bed… All going to storage. I know it’s just stuff, but it is stuff we have accumulated to make our apartment feel like home. it is the things that I’m so familiar with that I don’t consciously bite they are there, but they surround me with a sense if familiarity; colors, textures, aesthetic that I enjoy. While my mom is open to my ideas on arranging stuff, ultimately it her HER home. Her aesthetic, her stuff, heck, Hubster and I don’t even have our bed! (Not because we were forbade from bringing it, just that trying to fit our king in amongst everything seemed too tight.)
Alright, I more or less emptied my brain. Here’s hoping sleep will fill the void.