LIFE AFTER BANKRUPTCY

Saying Goodbye – February 28 2008

For a very brief second, I was alone. The house was silent, undressed and unloved. I felt guilty. I was walking away, giving up. Slowly, I moved between the mountains of boxes. I wiped a tear from my damp cheek. There really was no going back. I had detached myself emotionally – it was just business. I knew it was the right decision, but it still hurt like hell. I had just fifteen minutes to get a grip before the removal team arrived.

I had already spent the last twenty-four hours watching, helplessly, as my life was packed into five storage containers. My beloved belongings, gently prised from my grasp and without a second thought manhandled into a dirty, dusty van and destined for a ramshackle warehouse in the middle of Constable country with only the cows and sheep for company. It could be two years before I saw my home comforts again.

The neighbour’s kitten wrapped her soft body around my ankles. Such a pretty thing, I thought. I scooped her up in my arms and walked her to the end of the garden. There would be no goodbyes. I quickly ushered her away. Unsuspectingly she darted into the bushes – on her return there would be new friends to play with. I hurriedly surveyed the pretty, neat garden. I glanced at my watch - 9 a.m. The early morning sunshine was already beating down on the yellow winter pansies. Everything seemed alive. I felt a pang in my stomach. I loved this little retreat. We had spent many warm days and long lamp lit evenings hidden amongst the foliage laughing with our family. They were the happy memories I would be taking with me.

Life in Rent

The whole removal process was seamless. Three hours later, I pushed my new house keys into the lock and stepped tentatively onto the freshly grouted ceramic hallway tiles. ‘Home, sweet home.’

The three-story magnolia Georgian box was brand new and boasted a wealth of high-spec paraphernalia. There were gleaming chrome fittings in each of the three bathrooms and the granite work surfaces twinkled in the sunlight as it streamed through the expensive blinds tastefully fitted in every room. A coffee-coloured carpet complemented the colour scheme and ran throughout the house. As plush as it was, it had ‘Large Travel Lodge’ stamped all over it. I’m sure the novelty of no building work would soon wear off. The downsize of the property soon became apparent as the removal team filled up the house with bodies and boxes. Fortunately, I had brought only the bare minimum. I was almost spot on with just a few extra cartons needing a home. I had no idea how living here would work on a day-to-day basis. Only time would tell.

There had been very little choice of property when deciding where to live for the foreseeable future. There were only three houses suitable and all situated on the other side of town. Although this would cause problems with the children’s schooling, I was selfishly content with moving as far away from my neighbours as possible. I was convinced they all knew about the bankruptcy – I suppose I was running away.

Finally, the last of the boxes was plonked unceremoniously on the floor and the noise faded. I sat exhausted amid the mountain of cardboard for what seemed like a lifetime, staring into space. I felt so lost, like I didn’t belong. I started to panic. I wanted my home. I wanted it back now. I didn’t want to stay here. I began to cry.

April 26 2008

The severe stress and anxiety that once occupied every nook and cranny of my tired, exhausted frame has now dispersed. This sort of physical strain on the human body, I am sure, can have long-term effects. But, today I feel liberated, physically lighter, and for once, in such a long time, clear headed. The enormous weight bearing down on my shoulders had gone. True, I had initially rebelled against the transition to life in rent, but eight weeks on I can see the benefits. For the first time in four years I was now enjoying, not enduring my life - Bankrupt 130 0f 2006 due to be released November 2008