good riddance

tonight is the last night i will sleep in this house.  i’m moving to a house my great-aunt left to my mother in 2013.  it’s not where i want to live but it’s infinitely better than living here.  in hindsight i wish i had not rebuilt the blasted thing after the flood. 

because i’ve recently opened my own business and because daddy died in april and because my money has run out i’m done paying for this place.  since the flood i’ve spent more than 50% of my salary on my mortgage (before utilities) i can no longer afford it and i’m past ready to be out of here.

i’d like to think that some of my anxiety will lessen when i no longer have to come home to the place where my trauma happened.  i expect to always experience some anxiety, as PTSD never goes away completely, but i think being away from here can only help.

i’m faced with the possibility of bankruptcy and having to get a “real” job while somehow still keeping the bookstore open (with the help of my mother who works for me a day or 2 a week for free!) but i think i can avoid foreclosure by letting the bank sell the house through a short sale.  since the flood the house has lost so much of its value that i owe a good deal more than it’s worth so the possibility of me selling it is nil.

i’m outta here tomorrow with the pets and then my brother and i will move the big stuff (bed, dresser, dining room table) later this week.  the rest of the stuff:  all the other furniture, dishes, small appliances will go in the front yard for a yard sale when i can manage it.)  the large appliances—only 6 years old, like everything else I own—will live in my brother’s barn until i need them.

i hope i feel relief.  i can’t imagine what that must feel like.  i know i won’t feel any regret about leaving here!

i wish i weren’t having to do this without daddy!  he would know what to say to make it feel better (at least for minute.) 

grace and peace and goodbye!

10 years and counting

10 years ago today i closed on this house.  i never thought i'd be here 10 years and i certainly never thought i'd be here 10 years with no way out.  almost 5 years after the flood the value is about half what it was beforehand.  it's still, though the saying hurts, "under water" about $25,000, meaning it's worth $25,000 less than i owe.

 

the bad part of it is that because of my anxiety i am relegated to spending nearly every waking minute here unless i'm at work.  my world has become so small as i cannot go but a handful of places.  i only have a couple of friends for which i am willing to venture out.  i can't go to the movies, i can't go to a restaurant, i can't go to church, i can't go anywhere and feel safe - though the worst part is that this is the place i feel the LEAST safe.

 

i wish i were a person who didn't remember anniversaries and wasn't so sentimental but that's not me.  i can't remember what i ate for lunch but i know every phone number i've ever had.  i can't remember how to get home a lot of days but i know every one of my ex-boyfriend's birthdays.

 

today was a busy day at work.  i'm tired and a bit congested.  i'm gonna pile up on the couch with winston the pug and try my best to look forward to tomorrow.

 

grace and peace

 

 

 

 

 

 



margaritaville for the anxious

friday - i stood outside talking with a neighbor while walking winston before work.  it took no time at all before we began to talk about the flood and the long and difficult aftermath which we continue to live every day.  we talked about our desires to walk away from these houses and live in tiny one-bedroom apartments or caves or cars or anything but these houses that we hate.  i think it's impossible to ever feel better while having to live here.  i'm here.  i'm not going anywhere.  the house is worth so much less than i owe and SO much less than it was worth.  it's just my reality but it's a hard one to accept.

 

saturday - the day i have looked forward to and dreaded for several weeks.  lunch with friends.  at a restaurant!  without one of my 2 "safe people" kelly or kim.  the friends i was meeting today i have known for more than a decade and i love all 4 of them.  but it's me, out in public, vulnerable and afraid.  i couldn't sleep, i wanted to cancel, i took a long time to get ready, i forgot my cell phone!  

 

i spent the whole trip to the restaurant trying to remember my friends cell phone numbers in case i had to find a way to call (either from work close by or from the CVS which is my only pre-approved place within spittin' distance.)  my fear was that if i got there and couldn't go in i couldn't call to explain or call to have one of them come out and help me in.  my anxiety keeps me from being able to enter places alone or even enter them at all if circumstances seem dangerous. 

 

i parked and was able to sprint to the entrance as 2 of them walked in.  whew!  i made it.  i was a wreck and immediately drank a glass of water to help me breathe.  my friends understand!  by the time my other 2 friend arrived i was feeling a bit better.  by the time the food and our margaritas got to the table i calmed down.  i had a great time but the first second i sat down in the car i said aloud, "i'm glad that's over!  i had a good time but i'm SO glad it's over." 

 

it still amazes me that something so "easy" for others to do (and easy for me 4+ years ago) is SO HARD (sometimes literally impossible) for me now.  i got almost home before the panic attack set in.  it lasted a good long while.  now i feel rode hard and put up wet.  can't wait to lie down.  think i'll turn the computer off and put a funny movie on.

 

love to my friend who buried a young cousin today.  i can't imagine that pain.  i love you!

(just for clarification - my giving up restaurant food for lent was not meant to include all restaurant food.  it was my thought that i would not get eat outside food when i had the option of cooking or making meals myself but that i would allow myself to actually go out to eat with other people.  during lent i have eaten 3 meals that i didn't cook for myself:  today and one each with my "safe people" mentioned above.)

 

grace and peace

 

 

consequences

got some disturbing news this weekend that i can't stop mulling over:  my neighbor directly across the street sold his house (if indeed it closes this week) for, wait for it..., $25,000 LESS than it appraised for.  this isn't surprising but somehow just hearing that number really got to me.  i've guessed that these houses won't sell for their pre-flood worth for five or more years but what if it's longer?  when i think of all the of improvements i made and all the money i shelled out to make it livable/sellable i feel like perhaps it wasn't worth it.  i can't get out and yet i don't know how to make peace with being here.  i hate this house and i hate that damn river!

if i haven't mentioned it before i think it's worth mentioning now:  someone is sneaking in here and leaving rubberbands of various sizes laying around.  it's about to send me over the edge!  i finally had to break down and ask my dad and brother since they have keys-they both deny doing it.  i want to believe them and of course i know they aren't doing it but i cannot explain how these rubberbands are multiplying.  i've talked to both maeve and winston about it and while i wouldn't put it past the cat to try and drive me crazy i know the fat, lazy pug isn't wasting his precious reserve of energy on the likes of a trick like that.  i've turned the house upside down looking for a stash of rubberbands that the cat may have gotten into but the likes of which doesn't exist.  i now look for rubberbands when i enter a room like i usually look for spiders upon flipping a light switch.  

anxiety is for the birds, i'm safe nowhere and from nothing.  rubberbands for cryin' out loud!