The Nightmare is Over

All that's left is the recovery.

A little over a year ago, our house in the small town went into foreclosure. Despite attempts to pare down and literally ignoring every other bill with the exception of the car payment (so I could go to work), we finally reached a point where we could not make payments on a consistent basis. This was in large part due to being underemployed and employed in a position where the pay was not dependable in any fashion, but my layoff well over 18 months ago had a huge part in it as well.

As the "breadwinner" in our family for a good number of years, this particular news struck me with a force I cannot explain. It was the most emotionally damning and damaging piece of news I've gotten in a good number of years. The inability to provide the most basic of needs for my family- a roof over their heads- damn near crippled me as a functional adult.

I did the "right things"- I called our mortgage holder repeatedly and often. I tried everything I knew and some things I had only heard whispers about in an effort to save my family's home. I worked insane hours- often driving myself to exhaustion and frustration in an effort to salvage that beautiful place I called my home.

For many months, I told absolutely no one. I hoped (desperately) that we'd find a way to get out of the situation; that modification would work; that I'd get a better job- ANYTHING- would happen to change my situation. I was beyond ashamed; embarrassed and disgusted were daily emotions. I finally broke down and told a limited number of people- honestly, it was just my parents.

I wish I'd been able to give my parents any other news than: I'm a complete failure and I can't keep my family indoors. The response was not great- but some glimmers of hope came out of  the wreckage that was my pride. I  got through the Christmas season almost entirely on my mother's good will; and tried to right my ship with what looked to be a very promising job.

That job fell through and I wound up with literally no income. I broke down an applied for family assistance and went back to working a backbreaking and emotionally tolling job to bring ANY money into the household.

I got hired back at a former employer in March, and I started making preparations for the reality that we were going to lose the house. I'd tried negotiating with the bank again at that time, and the news wasn't good. I got a letter in the mail from a short sale specialist, and I took the time to call him up and ask a million and one questions. The process took a very long time and I almost changed my mind several times. We moved into a rental that my parents lovingly co-signed on for us just about a month ago.

 The move nearly undid me- in many, many ways. Almost none of my friends and family knew the WHOLE story- but they showed up in droves to help me regardless. In the process of moving, my cookbooks were lost. The loss of that single box id more than heartbreaking- it's damn near killing me. My cookbooks are such a big part of who I am and how I function in my group of friends. So many of our friends love my Dude and I'm often crippled by insecurity that they don't like ME. So I bake as a way to cement my place in the circle- I show these people how much they are loved through good, handmade food, and they like it so I know they like me. That's been taken from me and it hurts almost as bad as losing the house.

I don't know how this happened for me in the way it did, but I believe G-d had a big hand in it. 

We sold the house to the short sale specialist today. The bank cleared us of any deficiency and we're protected from capital gains for at least another year. 

Whether my  heart is protected from the damage is another matter.

Today's Funny

"Air Assaulting Ranger Marines don't faze me, but lack of (time) does."=== The Dude.

priceless

Getting There

I've been in the new house for a few weeks now. Friends keep asking me how I like it, and I am still a little unsure. I like the location- it's wonderful. It's close to everything but in a quiet neighborhood. The yard is nice and the dog loves it. The kids seem MUCH happier here. (The last year in small town was not real fun for anyone. I think it was a lesson in survival.)

I've had a hard time getting comfortable for a long list of reasons. One big one was that I wasn't fully unpacked (I'm still not there) and I just couldn't "breathe" with the stress of all the boxes. I've spent the last 2 months surrounded by things in boxes- and it kind of unbalanced me (along with a couple other things related to the move).

I got a new shelf, which gave me places to put some things. I put them away and then unpacked my angels. I put my favorite up where I can see her easily and now I feel a lot more at home. My kids noticed the angels and the change in my attitude right away.

It feels good to be closer to home. I'm not there, but I'm getting there.

Un/Re

Un
packing
stressing
thinking
focusing

re
prioritizing
enjoying
settling
considering
shaping
defining
fining

The Last of It

Tonight will be my last night in my little home in small town. I'm pretty numb about it now. I've built a shell around my feelings because the move has to happen. I've been in "get it done" mode for a long time now.

However, I did have a moment of reflection when I realized that this is not what I planned for, dreamed of, hoped on or built to over the last few years. It's a very rough thing to realize and accept.

I do have some good things to look forward to, and a lot of work ahead. I'm almost done with all the big stuff- but I still have a lot of little things to do.

Just a rough day

A lot of things all combined have made today pretty tough.

Waiting is Over

We're moving from our small, mostly farming town of 1200 people back to the "big city". We're doing it for a lot of reasons, but the long and the short of it is that it's best for our family.

We found a place that is near schools, shopping, parks, family, friends, work and isn't way out of our price range.

This week is totally busy with things that can't be rescheduled, so the packing starts in earnest next week. We move in just under 3 weeks. I may not sleep until September!