Thank you all so much for the lovely comments and sending love and solidarity ❤️
I'm currently moving out of the house we lived in - it is a large rented property and I got my Section 21 in February as the landlord wants to sell. My business folded just before Christmas so my finances are up the creek and it's been a long fraught saga getting a one bed flat I can move into.
I'm on grace and favour with the agents who can't really sell it till it's empty - it's shabby and I suspect will be redeveloped.
Today was skip day. I have a 12 footer on the parking bay outside which my son and some muscly friends have filled with the accumulated detritus of 11 years of stuff. DP was creative and could acquire things that took his fancy "for 'ron". We also had people living with us and stuff from my demised business which we downsized and re-opened just one month before DP died. It's been horrendous on a logistical front for a multititude of "you couldn't make this shit up" reasons.
My DP had a favourite chair. Until recently it sat, well worn on his side of the bed. He would flop on it, scrolling his phone, watching TV, and we'd just chew the fat or sit in companionable silence. It sat there until a few months ago, his old ratty dressing gown on the back. My year old cat liked it. And then started using it as a scratching post. Then he peed on it. The worn faux leather meant it seeped into the upholstery. Eventually it went to join the worn out appliances and things not worth recycling in the garden.
Today I watched my son take a sledgehammer to it to fit it into the skip. I'd been muscling through quite well, despite the chaos up to then. But that - that broke me. I had an absolutely phenomenal crying jag. Fortunately my closest friend was there to hug me until I could pull my self together again. She said later she was amazed it had taken that long.
I am leaving the house where my Mum died during lockdown, where my beloved collapsed and never returned, where I have been temporarily housing my Dad for the last five weeks for extremely complicated reasons, where we had parties, dinners, all the fun times.
It feels weird and hollow as most things have gone piecemeal to storage or my new flat. I've got rid of so much, but some things I can't bear to. Not yet.
One chair. One chair and the feeling of evisceration came back full force.
Now I'm going to order noodles and curl up for a couple of hours with my cat and try and switch off for a bit.
But I do want to say thank you again - this thread may have started for one particular reason but I think it has been a bit of a cathartic opportunity for me anyway.
And on we go - survival out of spite eh?
Much love to everyone struggling with difficult situations of any relatable stripe.