WTF is WRONG with me?
I'm getting on my own nerves.
OK, it's been a tough couple of weeks with a LOT of stress ... so much so that when I realized how ill I was getting, I just got in my car, in my slippers, and drove 2 hours to Suffolk, to see my sister (unannounced) who lives in a lovely quintessential English old cottage (adorned with doors that have a height of 4 feet 6 inches ... yes, really).
I thought I'd cry when I saw her, instead she did.
But that's over now, dealt with.
Yet ... I'm still stuck, demotivated, moving tasks till manana, ad nauseum ... so lethargic. Nocturnal. Vicious cycle.
I need to purge and clean my home so it can go on the market ... but just don't seem to get it together. And I so want to move. FFS, Boo ... get it together.
Let me backtrack to the stress thing, as it's fairly big news -
I've withdrawn my offer on the Farmhouse. Yes, I lost a fair amount of mullah, but far less than I could have. And I'm not bitter, angry or worried about that. I've already moved on, putting it down to a life learning.
Let me be perfectly clear here. This is nothing to do with Jayde who only had my best interests at heart and never tried to influence my decision ... far from it. It was me. I lost my focus and prematurely put an offer on the Farmhouse, having meandered off-track insisting on buying a home where we would ALL have our own bedrooms, which was not the original plan. At all. The real plan was to buy a key-ready villa, on flat land (should I grow old and doddery), with a Spanish / ex-pat community, near a village / town with good infrastructure ... NOT a huge home with two staircases, and building work to be completed to turn it into my newly formed perception of our dream home.
Heart over head.
Jayde supported my decision to withdraw my offer, admitting that she was concerned about my future, i.e. my long-term future, if I bought it.
Prior to withdrawing from this purchase though, I tortured myself for 10 days, trying to make the numbers work, exploring mortgages in Spain, bridging loans in the UK, as well as property buying companies in the UK ... going round in circles, before finally admitting that the risks for all of these were:
a.) a rip-off
b.) too high risk
c.) would possibly culminate in me losing both houses
d.) would dishonour Cliff's hard work (and mine)
And it took me till 22h00 the day after my unannounced visit ... with my big sis sitting next to me for moral support, to email the Property Consultants in Spain. I could feel it coming off my sister ... in waves ... struggling to refrain from asking me to STOP POUNDING THE KEYBOARD ON HER LAPTOP. Literally feel it. She composed herself, instead tolerating my swearing, tutting, pounding and sighing. I reckon she could feel my stress ... in waves ...
Why the f*** do I escalate and magnify these issues in my head?
The next day, I received nothing but empathy from my consultant ... it was sorted.
And so I confirmed to Jayde that I had indeed done what we had agreed was the best decision ... and furthermore (in my manic/neurotic/worried/stressed state), I also asked her to verify that she could definitely support her children financially over there. And she did.
Again, I don't blame her ... having reaffirmed her financial status was secured ... and doubtless mulling over the fact that my focus had now been set back on track ... compounded by her break-up with her partner, not to mention she is due to have her 4th child this December ... Jayde herself decided to change her own direction, saying that she needed the stability that her current home in the UK offered ... and made the mature decision not to join me in Spain after all.
I think we're both relieved, having both made BIG decisions for the RIGHT reasons. Her focus had to be what was best for her children ... and mine? To change down a gear (i.e. pace of life). She can visit with Cliff's 4 grandchildren (his blood in reality - yet they feel as though they are my blood too) as often as she desires. I can see now, with hindsight, that it was too much for both of us to manage. Logistically, emotionally, practically.
So, I'm back on track. Excited about villa hunting. Just for me. As per the original plan. I can't wait.
So, why am I stuck? WHY? Not clearing, cleaning, purging, packing, sorting, accepting help from various friends/family?
No energy. No motivation. Yet, I want to. So much.
Perhaps my health took a far bigger knock than I suspected?
I'm keeping on top of paperwork, just not the physical stuff.
Just can't. NOT YET.
Like I said, I'm getting on my own nerves.