We moved house 6 months ago and I absolutely loath the new place. I loved it when we viewed it, and we knew it needed a lot of work and I was quite looking forward to a project. However it was as if during the six months it took for the conveyancing to conclude the previous owner really let the place go. Although dated and needing some repairs, when we viewed it was at least clean and functional and looked like it was loved and lived in. Not so when we moved in. By then the previous owners had filled the place with rubbish and left it all for us. They clearly hadn’t cleaned since they stopped taking viewings as the filth was unbelievable. The smell in the kitchen was horrific and nothing seemed to shift it. We discovered the cooker didn’t work. The washing machine they kindly left was broken. The shower didn’t work. Nor did the boiler. It was honestly like it had turned into a different house. The removal men were shocked and said they’d never seen so much rubbish left behind. Myself and my husband cried, and he never cries. Six months later and I have worked non stop aside the tradesmen 8 hours a day. It’s been my full time job. Every room has been replastered, we’ve replaced rotten floors, replaced the kitchen and bathroom. It’s almost finished inside now. Yet I still absolutely hate it. It just fills me with a really horrible oppressive sense of doom. I get odd days where I like it again but I feel like the whole thing was tainted by the mess left for us and the fighting with the previous owners to come and clear all the old furniture and the rubbish. I just can’t seem to get over the feeling of revulsion I have even now it’s all pretty much done up. It’s much bigger than our last house, we needed more space, it’s exactly what I wanted on paper: a period house (1600s) in a rural location. So why does it still not feel like home? It has me in such a state of depression.