Ah, family. That magical institution where love, loyalty, and unwavering support are always there when you need them. Or, at least, that’s what sitcoms and sentimental Facebook posts would have you believe. In reality? Well, let me tell you about my latest adventure in the thrilling saga of Why You Can’t Always Count on Family!
So, picture this: My partner and I are stuck in a housing nightmare, and after much stress, strategising, and sheer stubbornness, we finally find a place in Greenock. A fresh start, a new beginning, a chance to escape the sonic terror of our current neighbours who, I’m convinced, have a personal vendetta against peace and quiet.
And the best part? My family promised—yes, PROMISED—they’d help us move our stuff up north. Fantastic! That’s what family is for, right? To help each other out, to lend a hand, to show up when it counts.
Fast forward to today, and suddenly, the tone has changed.
“Oh, it’s too expensive.”
“We just can’t manage it right now.”
“You’ll figure something out.”
Wait. WHAT?! I must have missed the memo where helping your own flesh and blood came with a terms and conditions clause! I mean, I get it—times are tough, the economy is a mess, and petrol prices are climbing like they’re in a race to the moon. But come on! If I had a pound for every time my family said they’d help and then bailed, I’d have enough to actually afford a professional moving company!
At this point, I’m half tempted to stick wheels on our furniture and attempt some kind of madcap DIY rolling convoy up the motorway. Or, maybe I should train a squadron of carrier pigeons to transport our belongings piece by piece.
Look, I love my family. I really do. But when people say, “Family is the one thing you can always rely on,” I’m starting to think they meant for disappointment. Because right now, my family’s support system feels about as reliable as a British summer—promising sunshine but delivering torrential rain at the last minute.
Oh, and did I mention? I can’t rely on my family to help go up and down for viewings either. Because, you know, that is also too expensive, too inconvenient, and apparently too much to ask. It’s almost like they think I’m trying to relocate to the moon rather than just a different part of the same country. I also can’t rely on them to help us get up and back down for signing for keys, meaning we’re now in the difficult position of having to give up on properties in Inverclyde because of a complete lack of support.
And to make matters even more ridiculous? They’re apparently still willing to help me individually—but not my partner. As if helping my partner wouldn’t also be helping me! Do they think I’m going to somehow levitate all our furniture up to Scotland on my own? Or that I’d just leave my partner behind like some sort of excess baggage fee I can’t afford? It’s like saying, “We’ll help you, but not the person you live with, rely on, and are moving with.” Meanwhile, my partner’s father is just as bad—he’s happy to help my partner but not me, despite the fact that helping me would also be helping his own child. As a couple, we travel as one, regardless of what our parents think.
Private rented accommodation is also proving to be a nightmare because we need a guarantor, and—surprise, surprise—none of my family are willing to take the financial or credit hit to help out, despite the fact that we would be making the rental payments monthly anyway. Apparently, believing in us and offering real support is just too much to ask.
And the real kicker? They don’t turn up when I actually need them, like when I need genuine help, but they do turn up when they feel like threatening my partner instead. And when I bring up that they are, in fact, threatening my partner? My mother chooses to believe my brother over me. Because, clearly, I must just be making it up.
So, what’s the plan now? Well, since my family has suddenly discovered the concept of financial responsibility only when it involves helping us, it looks like we’re on our own. Again. Maybe I’ll start a moving fundraiser called, ‘Help Two Autistic People Escape Tewkesbury.’ Or better yet, I’ll just become a minimalist and leave everything behind. Who needs furniture when you have spite and determination?
At the end of the day, family is a wonderful thing—just don’t rely on them for a house move.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go Google “cheapest way to transport all your earthly possessions without selling a kidney.”
Hashtags: #FamilyDrama #MovingHouse #HelpNotHelp #UnexpectedExpenses #CantCountOnFamily #GreenockBound #RelocationStruggles #AutisticLife #MovingOn #HouseMoveNightmares #WhyIsMovingSoExpensive