Brakes on, still falling

I am a body in free fall. I am like Wile E Coyote in those first deluded moments, treading the air like it was earth, unaware of the chasm beneath me. This is the point I was at a few days ago – stage 1 of the fall. Call it bliss.

But now that I’m officially halfway through my holiday, I’ve entered stage 2 – realisation. I know that this suspension of woe is temporary. In a few weeks, Rosie and I will return to our home in London, back to our tiny flat on the western bank of a dual carriageway, back to school for her and work for me. Back to a whole cauldron full of trouble.

You see, now that Ben is in detox, I have enough head space to devote to the other major worry in my life. In a few months, I am going to be made redundant. This might not have been such a big deal if times had been less straitened. But this is no time to be losing my job. I am the sole earner in our household – I’ve got a mortgage to pay, mouths to feed, bodies to clothe. If I think too much about the disaster awaiting me, I go into paralysis. I claw my way back up to that first airborne moment. I cloak myself in delusion. And when that doesn’t work, I panic.

The truth is, each time I pass a homeless person on the street, I think, that will be me in a few months. I know I’m prone to melodrama, but who amongst us isn’t a few steps removed from a cardboard box? Few of us are so financially secure that we can comfortably weather a few months without an income.

I know I have options. In fact, I probably have quite a few. But right now, they seem rather fantastical and foolish. I’m not one for believing in fate and luck, but I keep telling myself that something has to change for the better – at some point, something good, and I mean really good, has to happen.

Perhaps I need to look at my impending joblessness as a sign (even though I don’t really believe in those either). Maybe it’s telling me that my time in London is over, that it’s time to move on and make a home somewhere else.

The world is big – really big. And somewhere in it is the right place for Rosie and me. I just hope it doesn’t take too much longer to find it.

 

 

Advertisements

8 thoughts on “Brakes on, still falling

  1. Why don’t you contact the DSS in your lunchtime (when back in London) tell them that you have a mortgage and child, are the sole breadwinner and are going to be made redundant and see what they say.

    They may pay mortgages because if they don’t then they’d have to find you housing. If you do get made homeless, then you would jump to the top of the housing ladder because you have a child.

    I would find out about my options before worrying myself into sleepless nights, especially as so much of what I worry about never happens and I waste time worrying when I could be enjoying myself.

    Good luck with this, and may your gods walk with you.

  2. Yes, of course there are always options, but many of us humans seem to need to moan and worry first before we explore those options and actually DO something. It’s like a necessary phase or something. I’m sure you and Rosie will be fine in the end, though maybe not exactly where you would have thought. So yes, try to go back to enjoying your holiday!

  3. You are so stronger…facing so many things in one year. I will follow you through next year. I hope that it will be the year of Happiness and Prosperity. You have certainly earned it.

  4. Pingback: Once more to the moon and back « marriedtoalcoholic

  5. Pingback: And so, goodbye… « marriedtoalcoholic

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s