I’ve been thinking about my bed today…well my bedroom to be exact. When we first renovated this house, we were both young, fit and healthy and we put so much into making it our home. Our bedroom was my favourite room.
It’s got a beautiful ceiling, high and arching… White with tiny glowing stars that shine at night making it feel like sleeping outdoors.
There are two velux windows that let in fresh air in the summer and show me the beautiful blue of the sky, rain of an autumn evening or cover over with a snowstorm.
The walls are lilac, pretty and relaxing.
I would always have lovely bedding and throws and it was such a relaxing warm and inviting room.
Now after having spent so many painful and unhappy episodes in this room I actually hate it.
About three years ago I took down all the paintings and decorations readying myself to redecorate…then I was told I had cancer and the decorating never got done…the pictures and pretty things are all still in boxes.
There’s one picture my Mam gave me last year, with a big splash of purple crocuses. I love that picture…it has seen me through some dark days.
There are cobwebs and dust covering my twinkling stars. the ceiling is grubby…some days when i can’t get on the internet I look up at that ceiling and it makes me weep at how downhill we both have gone. I wish I could be invigorated with a lick of paint.
The curtains are permanently closed and the velux blinds haven’t been open for a long while…the bright light hurts my eyes on my bad days and they have been plentiful the past year.
Last my bed…it’s warm and comfy…but gone is the lovely bedding…everything needs to be soft and worn because anything frilly or new hurts my skin.
My bedroom feels like a prison some days.