A Hard Rain's a Gonna Fall

At some points, I find coming into work in the morning is incredibly hard. This morning is one of those mornings. Not only is it cold, well past the time of the year when it should be so bitter, and my car is bust which means that I'm driving the people carrier which means that Claire doesn't have a car today, but also, and the main factor for my melancholy, Sophie has just had a small seizure at home before I left.

When ever this happens the same knot in my stomach appears. It is partly there out of anxiety for Sophie, I hope that she'll be alright when she comes round and doesn't relapse into another, larger episode. But it also situates itself in my gut because it reminds me of the reason why I want to move in the first place.

I can't even take time off work when I'm ill at the moment, in fear that my timelines will slip behind, and the effort that it will take to correct them will wipe out any earlier rest period. One of the initial thoughts that I have when Sophie is poorly is what impact it will have on my job. Talk about perspective!

Remember that this job does not appeal to me at all, that every hour that I spend deploying myself on it's tasks is gradually destroying who I am, bit by bit, that every hour is performed through spite and struggle. For me to care remotely about this occupation while my daughter is genuinely struggling for existence sickens me to the core.

I guess I can't be the only one that has this same inner conflict, and the way that people will look at it is that 'you have to pay the bills' so this is why this has to be held as important in your life. But this is desperately why I'm going to change the way that I look at this necessary element of a life.

I need, because of the situation that I am in, to be able to provide for my family in a flexible way where we make hay when the sun shines but then go indoors when it's pissing down. I need that control in my life that will enable me to concentrate on the actual important thing in my life at every given moment.

This is what this is all about. It's not about moving to the Isle of Wight to be a bum, far from it, I can actually see that moving will mean I actually work harder than I've ever worked before, but the work will hopefully not feel like work, and if it does then it needs to change again. But it's about being able to choose when I do things, not if I do things.

The other big part about moving is the closeness that we will have to our 'emergency network', or our family as it used to be called before the Americanisation of it. This is another vital component to our sanity. The pressure that this situation puts on Claire and I is massive, and I think we deal with it pretty well, but year after year of this sustaining, constant pressure is beginning to wear us down, and talk of support offered from Council organisations and charities goes against my fundamental beliefs in how we should behave. We should be able to care for each other in a family unit, and this is such a huge reason why moving back home is important for us. This goes both ways, obviously, and there will be other challenges that will present themselves that mean that we'll need to be able to give as well as take.

Anyway, it's time I finished up here and went to work, trying very hard not to snap at anyone that even remotely looks at me the wrong way. Here goes...

Location:Alderley Edge,United Kingdom