The Big Move

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In November I packed up my apartment, quit my job and moved from Hull to Nottingham to start the next chapter of my life. Is moving everything I wanted it to be? Of course not, but it’s only been nine weeks.

In those nine weeks a lot has changed for me.


There has been plenty of that. Currently I’m laid up in bed feeling extremely sorry for myself as I get over the flu. This is the fourth time in these nine weeks that I’ve been sick. Usually my immune system is pretty good, but I jinxed myself at the end of last year by saying I hadn’t been ill since January. Karma? Possibly, or it could just be my body adjusting to a different lifestyle. A lot less stress and less adrenaline has left my body and immune system vulnerable. But who doesn’t love living off chicken soup every two weeks?


This is the one thing I’ve struggled with for the last three and a half years. I was constantly on the go and very much buried in the day job and freelance work. Those 70 plus hour weeks were killer and it wasn’t until I got out of that environment that I realised just how important having a work-life balance is. I’m no longer bringing work home with me or being called into the office on my day off. Any work I do at home now is purely for me and the clients I love to work with.


Just because all the boxes are unpacked doesn’t mean the move is over. There was additional furniture to buy for the office, a dining room table and just things I generally wanted now that I had a little more space. Speaking of more space – my art collection keeps expanding. Having so much more wall space means theirs a chance to pick up some art prints I’ve had my eye on for a while but all of this takes time. I still have the hallway to bring some personality to and there’s still things hidden away in trunks for a rainy day to sort out. Moving is a process. I am settled but there’s still things to sort out nine weeks later.

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fuck this: living with mental health