How did I get here?

This is a long story and a topic with many different layers so I'll probably come back to this subject more then once. However here is the essence of it. When I say essence that's somewhat misleading. This is a bloody long post in fact but once I started writing it, I felt I had to lay it all out there properly in one go. You don't have to read it all in one go however. You should probably stop to make a cup of tea or to go to the loo. I will post handy photographs of cups of tea part way through to indicate when you might like to go for a break. You don't have to however and I'm not suggesting it improves the reading experience. I'm generally of the view that tea improves everything - but I'm not bossy - do what you like, but as a general rule you should keep yourself reasonably hydrated.

Anyway . . .

There wasn't one moment or one major life event that led me to becoming a housebod, rather a series of moments of reflection, chain reactions and life circumstances.

I've never really been much of a questioner or a radical. I always, well most of the time, did what I was told. When I was young I went to school and passed my exams and got a place at University while planning to have a career. I did all of these things because I was never presented with any other option. For my generation of women from my social and economic background this is what you did. It's what everyone did. I did it uncomplainingly, willingly and with excitement and enthusiasm. I looked forward to my glittering future without a moments doubt up until around my last year of University.

Up until this point, you see, I'd had a career plan and had mapped out what I wanted to become. Unfortunately through work experience I'd encountered my chosen profession and realised that it wasn't for me. I could have pursued it, I had the talent but the drive to do it was missing. I realised a career in that field would require a huge amount of sacrifice and I began to wonder, what will happen to the rest of my life? The path would have required me to live in the big city amongst the hustle bustle and noise. I yearned to return to my provincial routes. I wanted quiet and simplicity and the charms of the sophisticated metropolis weren't enough to hold my interest. Furthermore I realised I just didn't have the depth of interest that my friends on my degree programme had. My interest was there, but it was a shallow one, not enough to sustain the huge amount of time and effort it would have required for me to be a success.

Biology also played it's role. Around the age of 21 I found myself cooing over babies in prams. As a child I rarely played with dolls, had sworn motherhood didn't interest me and hadn't envisioned myself as a parent but suddenly a switch was flicked in my head and then it was all I wanted. I began to see myself shaping my life in such a way that I could be a wife and mother.

However at that stage in my life I was single, was rapidly coming to the end of my degree programme and had  to find some way to support my chocolate habit.

Cup of tea/loo break. Or simply carry on as you wish. 

I settled on moving back to my home town and working as an administrator and I envisioned myself working my way up in that field. I did this for a few years and it was fun - but somehow unsatisfying. I'd sit through pointless meeting after pointless meeting thinking to myself - is this it? Is this what my life is going to be about?The worst moments were when someone left their post. Each person seemed like such a key part of our world ; as though without them we couldn't possibly go on. However the next day we just went on as normal. It was like they'd never been there, they were not remembered, rarely talked of and nothing they had done seemed to matter any more. I realised that one day this would happen to me. I would leave and it wouldn't matter. I could work in a job for the next 40 years but then I would retire and after a few days none of it would have mattered and no one would remember me.

I turned to volunteer work to try and find something worthwhile and this helped enormously, but it was restricted to the few hours a week I could fit it in. I considered doing this sort of work full time but it was too emotionally draining and I couldn't imagine being able to do it as a full time option.

In the meantime things had shifted dramatically on the personal front - I was now engaged and living with my partner. Going through the process of merging our lives was making me question my priorities. My other half has a more high powered, better paid and more time consuming career. His job could mean that we'd have to move to another city to follow his work. At the same time economic pressures caused by the recession were making my job increasingly difficult and my job security had plummeted to zero. I'd only held one job since graduating and as a result my C.V was distinctly unimpressive. I decided to quit that post and become a temp so that I could gain more experience of working in different places and roles. I'd also began to feel very stressed and unhappy - for reasons I didn't quite understand and I felt a change of work scene would do me good.



Despite these doubts I limped on, doing well in my admin posts but still feeling a bit flat and unhappy. The stress I had thought I would eliminate by taking on a simpler work role had not gone away. I felt just as bad as I ever had. Similarly there were troubles in my relationship. We loved each other very much and were happy together but there were domestic problems. The house was a mess and neither of us had the energy to clean it up. This made the house feel very depressing and I tended to bury my head in a book or online to avoid it. I loved cooking but rarely felt I had the time to plan healthy cheap meals. I tended to use expensive short cuts or just eat takeaway. We also didn't have the time we needed to dedicate to each other. On an evening we'd gobble down a meal while watching TV then, exhausted, watch more TV before crawling into bed. Our quality time together was almost none existent. I gained weight, felt unhealthy and we both felt
somewhat unhappy with our lot. I envisioned the years of our lives speeding by as we'd sit in front of the TV unhappy but too tired to do anything about it. I wanted a better life but I didn't know how to get there.

And another one. Go on go on go on go on.

It all came to a head in the winter. My stress levels were rising and I was dealing with obsessive thoughts and compulsions. I'd had this problem for years and had always been too afraid to confront it. Now it was beginning to dominate my life. I changed my world so that I wouldn't have to face up to these problems and avoided situations that would make me feel uncomfortable. My ignorance about mental health issues made me afraid to seek help and I was convinced that I was the only one who had the difficulties that I had. I began to realise that my issues were getting out of hand and I went to the doctors. To cut a long story short I was diagnosed with OCD which I am currently undergoing treatment for.

I crumbled at work. Luckily everyone was supportive but getting through those weeks post diagnosis was so hard, one of the most difficult things I have ever done. My medication was helping but it was zapping the little remaining energy I had. After work I'd crawl into bed too tired to even watch TV or listen to the radio. My volunteer work had to be abandoned. I was doing nothing and the situation at home was not improving.

My other half was also struggling. Though he was very supportive and kind, his working life was more taxing then ever. He couldn't pick up the slack on the domestic front, he didn't have the time. If anything he needed my help, my administrative skills were just what he was lacking and I knew that if I invested the time with him, I could improve his situation dramatically.

Suddenly after years of not knowing what to do it became clear what I could do. I could abandon work and instead take the decidedly retro decision to devote my life to my home and husband. It was possible we could afford to live on just one salary as much of my salary was eaten up by transport costs and stuff I'd eaten (mmmm chocolate milk, the happy companion of my working life. At £1 plus a bottle you were not cheap but you were worth it baby). Surely two could live as cheaply as one, particularly if one of the two was dedicating their time to budget home cooking.

So we took the mutual decision that I would hand in my notice and take up the position of full time housebod. To quote Kosh 'And so it begins'.