Saturday, 17 December 2011

Change & How I Deal With it

    It's said that the mark of a successful writer is being able to turn any of their life experiences into an article and link it to a wider theme. On a completely separate note, today I'd like to talk to you about my recent house move and how I deal with change.

    Through a combination of factors - mostly around being in the right place at the right time - I was able to get a gorgeous flat not far from where I previously lived. I had about three months to move, so there was plenty of time to move - but one thing I am aware of is my stress level when it comes to change. There's a reason I've only moved twice before this in my adult life.

    Dyspraxia has links to other conditions, and has often been said that it's on the autistic spectrum (albeit at the mild end). I do recognise some traits of that spectrum in me, although I find it easier to tackle them ever since I've become aware of their effects on my life. One of the biggest effects is how I deal with change.

    If I know the variables of a particular situation, then I'm calm; even if I don't know all the variables, it doesn't automatically follow that I will panic or have an increased amount of anxiety. For me, it's about a degree of control - knowing that I can somehow influence the outcome (or at least part of it) and be able to ensure I can help guide the steps along the way.

    There are certain things in life, however, that don't allow that to happen. Moving has the potential to be like that - and I'm sure everyone reading this knows of at least one or two horror stories about someones move (maybe even your own?).

    I was nervous about the move, I don't mind admitting - more from the point of view that I don't particularly enjoy feeling stressed, and I find it difficult to think clearly in that situation, which is ... difficult, to put it mildly. However, I was pleased with how the day went - thankfully, a removals company came in and did the actual move, which made things so much easier.

    Living amongst boxes was NOT something I wanted to do for very long. I'd already done it for a couple of weeks prior to the move, and that was horrendous - it felt chaotic to me, and for a dyspraxic who relies on knowing where things are in his own place in order to avoid bumping into things, I've acquired a lot of bruises as the boxes grew ever higher.

    As soon as I was in the new place (with mountains of STUFF everywhere - seriously, where does it all come from?), I was like a man possessed - with the able support and hard graft of my parents, who spent the day helping me out (and who knew the risks of my anxiety levels rising, so could deal with it if they did). Between the three of us, we'd cracked a substantial portion of it all by the end of Friday ... and then completed all but one room by midday on Saturday.

    We were knackered by the end of Friday, but seemed to almost move into a new zone of adrenaline by the Saturday and there was a clear and organised flat by mid-afternoon of the second day - something to very much be proud of there (and HUGE thanks to my folks, who - quite simply - made my flat look as good as it does with their advice and physical labour).

    I think stress levels remained low because most of the actual stress-inducing bits - the physical move - were in the hands of professionals and, although I don't know much about moving, I knew enough to just stand back and get out of their way. Within an hour and a half, I was packed, transported and unpacked - incredible! Whenever I move again, I'll be following exactly the same pattern again - bring in the experts!

    The only left to really do is learn where everything is - as I haven't got much skin left to bruise!

    Now, if you'll excuse me, there's still ONE room left to complete ... I can't do anything myself, as I'm waiting for deliveries, but I intend to scowl at it until it finishes itself. I could get used to this moving business.

    What am I am talking about? Of course I couldn't ...

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