Better with the babies

If you were put into a valise and stuffed into the floor space on the passenger side of a very bouncy vehicle, presumably no one would wonder that the only sound you were capable of making was, “Nooo! Nooo!” Your voice would become ragged and weak from the effort.

So while it came as no surprise that this was the reaction of one vanilla-caramel cat, it was no less heartbreaking. And I had to do this with four cats, each one carrying his or her own cadence of the torture and indignity. And that’s just the bit in the car.

They have, with the Cats’ Father and me, arrived at their new home. They hate it. Cat 1 has taken up residence in a closet and only comes out for matters of a personal nature. Cat 2 lurks behind the toaster oven. Cat 3 is living, possibly permanently, inside the bed. The underside of the bed is partially destroyed and he remains unapologetic.

For Cat 4, I have nothing but reverence. He’s taken to the new space better than the rest of us combined. He lounges on the bed, visits new windows and generally behaves as though nothing has changed.

This is the last time. This has to be the last time I talk about this infernal (and eternal) move.

The truth is I may never stop moving. Having demitted one place, I find I must now do everything in reverse.

I know this is not news: people move all the time. In the same lifetime. But I’m so bad at it. I need coping mechanisms, but how much cake is there in the world?

Moving is about uncertainty. If you love a new place and your cats are allowing you to get it, maybe it’s not so bad.

If, on the other paw, you look at your bags, boxes and side tables and have not the smallest idea why or how you thought they’d fit: welcome to the dark side on which I find myself.

In changing addresses, I didn’t only shift where I lived, but how I oriented my thinking. I used to think about work and family and lunch. Now all I think about is…nothing. There is no room for anything but the change itself.

It’s not true to say I don’t think about anything. I believe so much worry now fills me, it has replaced active, conscious thinking. If I were to try to do something not on autopilot – like make toast – I’m sure I couldn’t. Somewhere, someone knows why this may be a good thing.

On our first night at the new residence I decided to give one of the cats a shower because he had developed a most infelicitous scent. Was I thinking about what was best for everyone? No. Did I stop to recollect my most recent tetanus shot? No.

But did this beloved creature now smell like a bright night sky? Yes.

Moving house stretches the imagination and sanity beyond any measure I ever thought them capable of. I realise that mentally I’m trying to recreate my old place. The second I notice that, I try to move in the opposite direction.

Since when do houses have opposites? What I mean is, I try to unhinge myself from the familiar. And that, that is no fun at all.

Everything is plotting against me. My old home was low and wide. This one is lean and high. Right. You see all the problems, I think. You see what I meant about imaginative leaps.

But all told, it’s the comfort and accustomedness that have been whipped away. It’s unsettling not to see things where you think they’re supposed to be. It’s even more upsetting when most of those things are lying around in Massy bags, garbage bags and crocus bags.

If you’ve noticed a distinct lack of discussion of money, budgets and other relatively essential parts of relocation, it’s not that I forgot. I offer a hugely unhelpful fact: it is beyond me. Everything about moving has exacerbated my panic attacks. Dealing with the financial aspect of it threatens my existence. It’s as if the constraint of money fills my head so absolutely and heavily, I might topple over from the weight of it.

I know I’m not alone. And it doesn’t matter if you have a great deal of money or very little or something in between. When you have to make choices that you’re literally going to have to live with…them’s the breaks.

Deep breaths.

Remember to talk to your doctor or therapist if you want to know more about what you read here. In many cases, there’s no single solution or diagnosis to a mental health concern. Many people suffer from more than one condition.