They say the most stressful thing in life is moving home...

It has been six months since we moved into our flat and, despite my love and appreciation for the views, the convenience of the layout, the gorgeous gardens and having George the horse living just over our garden fence, I admit that this, the 8th time that I have moved home, has taken me the longest time to settle.

We moved from our last address because our landlord would do no repairs to our house but insisted on raising the rent twice annually. The condition of the house was appalling and we could no longer live in such a damp, cold and crumbling environment for any longer. The other children that lived in the street were bullying my son daily and my partner’s health was suffering.

We moved into our flat within hours of viewing. I was immediately attracted to the large, open rooms, the position on the mountainside, the three well looked after gardens, a beautifully decorated room for my son and the security of having an authority as a landlord instead of a crooked cowboy. Within three days, with a great deal of help from our families, we had decorated the living room, largest bedroom, the bathroom and passageway and unpacked the majority of our belongings.

Within a month, we completely transformed the garden. Flowers bloomed in every colour of the rainbow. It was the beginning of a long, hot summer and we had our very own breath-taking landscape right on our doorstep.

However, the rush, the stress and the hard work was exhausting and, although the move was the greatest thing that we have done for our sun and I would never, in a million years, return to the last house, I felt homesick. I have moved house 7 times in 10 years. Where is home?

Homesickness is depleting. When I close my eyes, I sometimes forget where I am. For years, I have had a reoccurring dream about moving home where we move to a house that is made up of all different parts of past properties that we have lived in, with a garden of one house, a front door of another, a bedroom of another, and so on. In my dream, I am emptying boxes of things that I have lost in past home-moves. The air is dusty, the walls are rotting and past friends that I have lost through moving surround me. I think that this dream sums up how I feel inside. I still feel ‘disentoriated’.

Last month, I decided that enough-was-enough. I could not possibly put us through moving again, we are very lucky to have found such a treasure in our hometown and I may as well make the most of what we have. As the saying goes, “You don’t know what you’ve got until it has gone”. I woke up one morning and headed straight to B&Q. We redecorated the living room. When we first moved in, the living room was very well wallpapered, but it needed a lick of paint. We used spare paint that we had been keeping in the shed, painted three of the walls with Magnolia, and painted the feature wall Aqua Blue. The colour looked pretty with the lightly coloured wooden effect laminate flooring and newly fitted designer electric fire place and it was a great transformation that cost no money, although, over the past six months. I felt that the Blue was ‘uncomfortable’ to have to look at everyday.

I had already pondered what Red paint would look like on the walls. as we had recently been given a gorgeous, yellow-leather 3-seater settee and a matching 2-seater. The furniture made the Aqua Blue of the feature wall look worn and dull and the Magnolia made the yellow-leather look more like a dirty shade of white. I bought a tin of Crimson coloured paint and a tin of Ivory coloured, too. The decorating took just two days to complete. The night we finished, I took a step back, a deep breath and I smiled. For the first time, it felt like home.

I now hove the ‘decorating bug’. I find it amazing how a colour can, not only change a person’s mood, but also have an affect on everyday life. With a few scatter cushions, a new rug and some pretty nick-knacks, our living room is now cosy, warm and more like home than any of the places that we have lived before.

Tomorrow, we are having a shower fitting in the bathroom and the walls have been tiled from bath to ceiling. I woke up this morning and, once again, headed straight for B&Q. Today, we bought white, gold and silver wallpaper for the remaining bathroom walls and matching accessories and we also bought paint for my son’s room, His room is one of the nicest in the flat as the previous tenants had it professionally decorated for their child. The door and walls are cleverly half-covered in a Ton-And-Groove wood effect, using paint, wooden beading and Dado rail and above is wallpapered light yellow. The wood-effect is such an uncanny replica that only last week, my son noticed that it is not actually wood, but a painted grain. It is not until you knock it that you realise that it is a normal plastered wall. The radiator is covered with a fretted surround, concealed for safety, which is the feature of the room and right above the radiator is the window, which, if opened, is just an arms reach from the garden flowerbed just outside, so the view is great and he has privacy, as there are no houses facing his room.

Although the bedroom is decorated so immaculately, the snug feeling of having designed and created a new room is like a hug of familiarity, so I am hoping that my son can feel more relaxed and not feel like he is in another child’s room. The paint colours that I have chose for the walls are Midnight Blue to repaint the wood-effect in hope that the texture of the grain shows through and a bright Yellow for above. The image in my mind of how I think the colours will blend together looks really good. I just hope that I do not spoil an already beautiful room. My son is really excited and I made him a promise that he can help.

I am hoping to start decorating this weekend. When the bathroom and my son’s bedroom are complete, we have just the kitchen left to decorate. In all of the properties that we have lived at, we have never had the chance to decorate much more than the living rooms, as we have not stayed long enough, so, to me, this will eventually be the closest to home that I have felt since I moved out of my parent’s house 10-years ago.

So far...

LIVING ROOM: BEFORE

LIVING ROOM: AFTER

LIVING ROOM: AFTER

VIEW THROUGH THE WINDOW

OUR BEAUTIFUL GARDEN

(Which attracts very cute looking Gnomes)

One Small Step

Where have I been?

The last couple of months have been filled with self-discovery, for I am at a point in my life where, if I do not change who I am, I will risk my life and all the happy memories that are yet to come with my beautiful son, my devoted partner and my one-in-a-million family. I have revealed, to those closest to me, something that I have kept bubbling inside of me for 20 years. Putting myself first is probably the hardest thing that I have ever had to do.

The process of change is taking over my life, right now. I cannot focus on much else. At the same time, I am trying my hardest to keep it a secret from the rest of the world, as I do not want to be judged and branded as weak. It is my responsibility to set an example by keeping my head held high and looking on the Brightside.

My main outlet, at the moment, is writing. I suppose, if anything, the experience is inspiring. Writing is becoming my best friend, all over again. It is, to me, self-counselling. Stringing my thoughts into order is like defragmenting. Reading back those thoughts is like looking at myself through another’s eyes, it gives me a whole, new perspective.

I have learned, in the last couple of months that I have everything that I could ever, possibly need. It is far too easy to take what we have for granted and I hold my hands up for being ungrateful, in the past, for my blessings. Nobody said that this would be easy and it is clear that I have a long road to travel before I can truly say that I am fine, but I know now that I do not have to feel isolated. The support and understanding that my partner gives me is priceless and unconditional, and I am no longer walking this road alone.

Standing on the shoulders of many

Responsibility. Is it a blessing or a curse? I cannot fall for their sakes, yet I cannot stand on my own two feet. Is it a case of ‘the blind leading the blind’? What if I lead them in the wrong direction? What if I lose the way? Whom do I follow?

I ran away often as a child. I would sit alone for hours in a meadow, which overlooks our village. I would sit watching life from a distance, pondering where all the people go. How they know ‘what to do’? Did they have a handbook? Had they been given instructions on how to ‘Keep your head down and get on with it’? Why were they hectically rushing around and not sitting in a field of daisies contemplating these things? I had no real reason for running away other than the fact that I needed to be out of view. I have not changed a bit in that sense. Nevertheless, when so many people depend on you, it is not so easy to hide away. I am not a little girl anymore.

I have been deliberating my options. I have weighed up the pros and cons of holding so many people’s emotions in my hands.

Cons

• I have to make decisions for people that I have never met or spoken to in my life.
• I have no training.
• I have never even been in a crowd of that many people before, let alone lead them.
• I get the blame when things go wrong.

Pros

• When I had questions, they gave me answers.
• When I needed a friend, they became my friend.
• When I ask for support, they are all there in seconds.
• When I began, I could only dream of this outcome. If it were not for them, it would never have been possible.

How can I possibly turn my back on so many people so dear to me and such an achievement? I cannot. I may be a loner, but I cannot let so many wonderful people down. Each name is engraved in my heart for the gift of trust. Therefore, I need to confront what it is that is having such an affect on my intentions. It is not them; it is me.

Reading back the ‘Cons’, takes me back to the start where responsibility feels like a burden. It is not that. I do feel, however, that I am terrified of not delivering what they need. These people have struggled unsupported for years. Some of them have struggled for an entire lifetime. I completely empathise. I know how hard it can be. There are no answers, no agendas, just a pitiable handout and a ‘have a nice day’. I remember the day we had the results. That was the last time we saw the ‘Doctor’. I was utterly devastated that there was so little awareness of this diagnosis. I had so many questions that needed answering and absolutely nobody to put them to. I felt very alone and forgotten.

I have changed their lives. Once, they were as alone as I was. Once, they had no way of meeting others in the same situation. They felt like outcasts. Now, they meet daily with thousands and share their joys, their woes, their advice and their experiences. They share, not only for their sakes, but because they too know that feeling of being forgotten about. I have given them a community where they once had nobody at all. They have a global network of support available 24 hours a day.

It took a little effort. I worked hard and I made it work. Why am I the only person who has done this for them? Why can the governments not make that little effort and make some awareness and support?

I am the only support for these people.

At heart, I am still that little girl, sitting in a meadow full of daisies, but I am no longer looking at people that know the way. These people are looking up to my meadow for guidance. It is time to stand up and lead the way.

If I am the only way of getting support for them, then that is what I need to do. If they need answers, I need to ask questions. I need to push hard and demand more for them. It is what they deserve.

I do not have responsibilities, I have a purpose.

13/10/10 A heroic, historic rescue. Chilean Miners.

Tonight, in a glittering, new moon sky, every star holds a wish for the safe rescue of 33 Chilean Gold miners. Trapped, they ache to see the sunrise for the first time in 70 enduring, famished, horrendous days. There is no atheist stood in the crowds of hundreds gathered around the scene and prayers are murmured beneath an atmosphere of fret and anguish.

The courageous rows of rescue operators wait anxiously for instructions as their families shatter in one another’s arms.

With enthusiasm, fear and faith, they are off…

The first A-team member enters the enormous rescue capsule before it is lowered down a prepared shaft and it is hoped that the first of the miners will rise in minutes. Hearts of onlookers and news watchers worldwide race in anticipation, websites crash with blessings of safety and the citizens of Chile unite as a band of support to one another.

In unison, the rescue team begin clapping and chanting ‘We’re going to get them out’. Spirits raise. History unfolds before our eyes.

And suddenly, we see a smile light up our screens. The rescue team have made it into the cave and, bursting with tears of euphoria, a miner’s eyes twinkle into the camera lens. 33 miners celebrate the arrival of aid. The first contact with civilisation in ten weeks. He is their saviour. The rescue has begun.

That wait is the worst. The wait of the first to rise from their near grave. A suffocating gasp of anticipation twists my insides.

The news that Miner number 1 has boarded the capsule is broadcasted. The wheel slowly hoists the cord of the transporter, flags wave and the Chilean National Anthem choruses epic dynamics. Morale soars amongst the masses.

In the corner of my childlike mind, the Thunderbirds countdown the arrival of the rocket-like rescue device.

10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1

At the very sight of the valiant gold digger unearthed, taking a first gasp of freedom, hearts internationally burst with compassion for his liberation.

One by one, in a slow, perilous process, a rescuer descends to the unsafe depths of the shaft, sacrificing all, exchanging their freedom with a complete stranger. After 6 hours, only 3 have emerged and still 33 remain in the pit of fear. Realisation of the hours that stand before them hits hard, but the ecstasy of the gift of life that they have delivered boosts unknown strengths. Selflessly, audaciously and, un-rested, they need little else to carry on regardless.

No words can describe the emotions that this night has drawn out in humankind. No expectation of community could ever stretch so far. Where was I on the day of the Chilean Miner’s Rescue? My heart was in San Jose.

May those that risk their lives today be duly rewarded and forever remembered for their gallantry and devotion. May their mightiness sustain throughout the painstaking days ahead of them. With awe, gratitude, praise and encouragement, good luck!

New Moon

Spying eye, a new moon looms in a

wish-filled glittered sky. Delicate

and luminous, resolutions sparkle a

spectrum in aura haloing the purity

of Mother Nature. A fresh cycle of

Cosmic phenomenon is celebrated

with enigma and splendour for the

rebirth of a tale as old as time.

What a night to be alive!

Soul searching 2010

Finding myself amid a planet of searchers is like looking for a pebble at the bottom of the ocean. How can I be different when no two people are the same? No persona category strikes me

as a reflection. Is anybody really emotionally 2D? Is anybody's soul actually as black and white as media implies? I never have been and never will be that predictable and superficial. I may not be that different in terms of soul searching, but I will never lower myself to the desperate depths of lumping myself into a predicament of 1930's carving of 'The Perfect Woman'.

Think

The thing about rebellion is

that when it comes

to a fork in the road,

you're on your own...

F.U.C.K.E.D

©GEMMA LEANNE GOODE