I have offically finally hit the panic stage of moving. In a way, I should be pleased with myself because it took me longer than usual to get here.
There's just so much to do, I have this complete fear of everything not getting done. I'm not even entirely sure what that means. Last week my body decided to minorly rebel with a fibro flare up, this week it has chosen to protest via a headcold.
I run through my list of accomplishments of things that have been finished like rosary beads, I run through my planned list of things to be done the same way. I remind myself that I have next week clear to do whatever odds and ends need doing. That we are paying a cleaning service to take care of that brutal last cleaning so we don't have to worry about it. That we have filled 20+ contractors bags full of wasband flotsam and packrat jetsam.
But besides the actual stress of moving, I feel like by going into those literal dark corners of my house, I've been reliving my life from high school on in fast forward. And it's that somewhat raw feeling again, not just from the divorce, but from all the people who've come and gone and left a mark on my life. It's draining trying to figure out what to hold onto (pictures mostly) and what to let go of. And like the early stages of the divorce, it's not always what I think it will be - sometimes something I think will bother me does and sometimes what I think won't bother me does.
I want a life not so tethered to possessions. And that's been the stage I've been in for a while now, selling, donating, and trashing whatever is not imperative to me. I don't want our new place to be overflowing with junk in the way that our current house is.
We've started to put things in boxes. We made a list of items that need to be moved in the moving van. As of Sunday, we'll be (at the very least) sleeping in the new place as we finish up cleaning out the old place.
I haven't been sleeping well or eating well. I've been having lots of dreams, some of them shamanic in nature. The spirit part of me gets that this is a big deal, that this is the big ta-da, the big transition into Motherhood, but the waking part of me less so.
Things that make me happy:
*
shardkin carrying me piggy back over the threshold
* The house blessing spell we did together to make sure the energy in the house set right
* James being a ginormous help in Operation Clean Out the Garage
* My sister helping with the painting
* The colors we picked for the rooms in the house
* Knowing that in a few weeks we will be reasonably settled
So here's the important part.
Gentle readers, expect me to act like a complete and utter flake from now until approximately Nov 15th while I am getting my shit together. I will not be able to firmly commit to anything* in hanging out, I will not be able to correspond with any regularity, and I will generally be cranky, stressed out, and perhaps weepy as well as generally unreliable. Thank you for your patience!* Except for Samhain. I have been to every Samhain for the last eight years and luckily, it's not til after the move out date. Additionally, it's going to be to celebrate GoG's big anniversary which will (hopefully) mean that the sad aspect will be smaller. I think I would feel rudderless without it.