The comfort of the familiar (whether good, bad or indifferent), cannot be over-estimated or over-valued. City living with its pollution, over-population and frenetic activity, retains its appeal. Heart attack-inducing levels of stress, little room and isolation can – and do – offer security.
As bizarre and disconcerting as the situation currently presents itself, coastal living with wide open vistas, a healthy pace of life and smiling strangers, is appallingly alien. Shell shocked and bereaved, I cower at home – unless forced out by “the school run” – surrounded by boxes, builders and bedlam. My skin prickles whilst my heart simultaneously sinks and races uncontrollably, whenever I recall that this is not a momentary aberration; this is my life. Is this the mental state described by Stockholm syndrome?
Obviously, eventually, this too will become familiar, comfortable, acceptable; but, moving is, truly, a life-changing (potentially person-shattering) experience. Be warned!
