Sundays are always here always start the same, quiet TV programs and snoring, strangely, I wouldn’t have them any other way. There are so many things that start out annoying us and land up being those strange little comfort zones, the places that if for some reason they vanished, would leave us feeling that bit poorer, that bit less at ease with life. Life somehow needs those constants, those things that happen without any effort or intention, but if they changed or ended, there would be an emptiness that nothing else could replace. I might complain at time when Adams snoring almost shakes the house at times, but when it is low and there in the mix of the sounds of my home, they become part of the comfort that I find here.
Home and what we make of it is for me, without doubt, the most important constant of my adult life, I went from a parents home where I was only allowed to put up the odd poster, to foster homes where I don’t remember being allowed to do anything. Through homes supplied by the Navy, that had nothing in them other than what he Navy supplied and a million rules that basically said, this is how it is, live with it. Trust me living in a house mainly painted in battleship grey, without fitted carpets and horrid mixes of colours only someone with a psychotic temperament would put together, makes you yearn to just change everything. Once my husband became an officer things did improve, but the rule still restricted any talent or flare for interior design. It wasn’t until I moved to Glasgow and I found a great flat which I shared at first with the owner and one other, that I was at last given some freedom to make my mark, but with it not belonging to me I had to take into account the others, but it felt wonderful.
When we bought this flat, well every room needed change and every room received it, we built a home, a true home without any restrictions, a home where we made our mark and built a place where our comfort and taste drove everything. I was nearly 40 until I found true freedom to put together a home, a nest, somewhere to be proud of and a place where I wanted to live and never leave. It had taken me a long time to find that contentment in my surroundings, to feel as though not only do I live here but I belong here, something that I now know is really important, important to making you feel whole. I know without any doubt that if I had become housebound in any of the homes I had before, that I wouldn’t have adapted so well to the life I have. There is something about being surrounded by your own belongings and in a home that reflects not just your tastes but your style, that helps to give that feeling of being cocooned and safe. I doubt that I could have created that feeling so fully without that total freedom to do what we wanted to make this place ours, some landlords if you have a long-term rental agreement often give you the same freedom, but where ever you are living, if you are ill what is around you, becomes a million times more important than it ever did when you were well.
I know that some will think that it is because I can’t get out of here that makes it so much more important, well I suppose that that is part of it, but there is something far deeper than just that. No matter how much I have learned about my health, how well I am managing it, or how long I have lived with it, there is always this bit of fear that sits, just a little behind me whispering to me from time to time. It is the same fear that can’t deal with change, that doesn’t want to face the future and tries from time to time to take over and take control. Feeling safe, knowing where I am, being surrounded by things that reassure me, comfort me and in some cases even cuddle me in happiness, is so important to coping with everything illness throws at me, including even the pain. It is a bit like living a great big duvet, always warm, cradled and safe, it doesn’t matter where I am in our home, here in the living room, the kitchen, bedroom, bathroom or even the hallway, everywhere I go, whatever direction I look, everything I see says you are safe, you belong here. I have said before that I don’t use a walker or stick because there is nowhere I go where there isn’t something there for me to hold onto or perch on, not once have I placed something where it is for that reason, it is almost as though my home is taking care of me.
I know understand why I have heard it so many times that our environment makes us what we are, well I know that is true, even to the point where you build that environment yourself as you ideal and then you grow into it. I did purposely start building a place filled with what I see as beautiful things, when I knew my future meant being eventually housebound, somehow it all went a lot further, but I can’t stress enough just how important it is, if you know now that your future is the same as mine, no matter how tempting it is to spend what spare money you have enjoying the outside world, take some of it and start building your ideal world in your home, it will be far more important than any memories, especially as they have a nasty habit of vanishing.
Please read my blog from 2 years ago today – 13/04/12 – Alternative Therapy, medication or miracles
I know that everyone is different and have things that work for them and not for others and I think this is as true for alternative therapy as it is for everything else in life. Many People have suggested that I try this therapy or that one and I have tried a few, unfortunately, this has left me usually lighter in pocket and no better health wise. I have become the biggest skeptic in the world whenever I hear of a new treatment or therapy for Multiple Sclerosis.
Over the years prior to my diagnosis I spent on many occasions what little money I had on treatments that promised to help with or get rid of the pain, the tiredness and so on. None did and none gave me my money back so I was worse off than before, not just pain in my body but also my bank account. I became……