I am writing this from what has been my bedroom for the last month. My couch in my living room has been where I lay my head because my house is so overcrowded at the moment. We are all trying to eke out a little space for ourselves in order to keep sane, calm and relaxed. In a house filled with four kids ranging in age from 1 up to 10 and three adults from 16 upwards it has been a bit of a logistical nightmare. As a direct result of this I gave up my bedroom to my daughter and her family in order not to cause too much upheaval for my younger kids. It has been okay up until now but bones are beginning to complain and grumble about the squashed up sleeping positions.
My bad knees wake me up at some point every night, my brain knows I am not in my bed so it takes longer for me to nod off. Every day I am woken up at the crack of dawn when all the kids descend the stairs and think its okay to run about and shriek. I am finding myself prone to locking myself in the toilet with a book in hand just to find a little reading space. I feel like my thoughts are not my own. I feel like my house has been taken over by a group of aliens. I am constantly having to run about cleaning up after everyone. The job of a mother and grandmother is a thankless task.
What it is doing for me is making me look at things in a different way. I have to try and see the positive in this situation to enable me to try and make the best of things. There is virtually no chance that my daughter will get her own house any time soon. There have also been many other apects of my life that have been put on hold while we adjusted to the pressures of two families living in the same house. My writing fell by the wayside and I need to start approaching the idea of getting my life back. I cannot let the situation dictate to and destroy the life I was starting to carve out for myself. I had been brave enough to start sending stories away to magazines and other fiction based outlets but when things changed I lost track a little bit.
More than ever I need to be writing – if only to keep my personal demons at bay. My sanity is demanding that I vent my creative juices because not doing so is a slippery slope into depression. I need to hold onto the things tha make me me. I need to schedule in time for me, creative time, time with my youngest kids, time away from the pressures of life. I need to breathe clean air on my walks with my dog and I need to look at the good things in life. I had forgotten that there was any good in the world for a little while. Time to get busy again.