Today is the last day to join, so if you want in on it, be sure to read over the rules and PM Shakespearicles!zeroed · 1:56pm Aug 17th, 2023
So I know I've been gone a while. Been dealing with grief really bad. I may have downplayed what I went through when I lost the house and even neglected to mention what I went through after that. Maybe because of shame, I'm not sure. Maybe because it hurt too much to talk about it, still.
I was so happy when I got the house. I felt like I'd finally arrived. That I was a "success". Then we got screwed over by people who were supposed to be family. Even as I say that, I take some responsibility for moving in with them, to begin with. For contributing to the events that led to everything falling apart. It really was a complicated situation that I don't have a ton of energy to write out. I faced a lot of pressure at home and at work. Basically, when trying to decide on getting the house or not, I went against my better instincts because I was desperate. I was going through postpartum depression whilst stuck in a job I hated, and I thought, "A house! A house will make it all better..." but no. It didn't.
Months later, I'm still struggling. My counselors say I'm suffering from "ambiguous loss". They've even compared what I'm going through to a divorce. For a long time, I was just angry. Every once and a while, I still feel flares of anger, but it's not what it was before. Impotent bitterness, more like. Because what can I do? I'm mostly just sad these days. The mornings are arguably the hardest. I wake up and think about everything and I cry. I get out of bed because I have to, not because I want to.
I know that I made poor decisions that contributed to what happened. The people we chose to live with were not stable or reasonable people. They were immature. I had some foreknowledge of this. Was warned by people I respected not to do it. I still did it anyway. Because I was suicidal, I thought, "What could be worse than wanting to die every day? This house has everything I want, and we can't get it without their help."
Again, the situation was complicated. I HAD tried to convince my husband to buy a different house without them. Something smaller and more affordable. He staunchly refused. He wanted to do this with his brother. He wouldn't do it any other way.
Believe me, it's been quite a lot of couples therapy to work through that particular moment. Things are mostly fine between hubby and me now. Not easy, just... fine.
When I left that house and took the kids to stay with other relatives, things still went wrong. My mom's boyfriend was in poor health and collapsed because we butted heads. Heart failure. His health wasn't my fault, and he had his own emotional issues. A terrible insecurity that usually manifested as rage. His own family assured me it wasn't my fault. He wasn't taking care of himself as his doctors told him to. "If it wasn't you, it would've been something or someone else," they assured me, my mom included. It still didn't feel good. I wish my kids hadn't been around to witness that. It was bad guys. Really bad. Imagine...
Me struggling to perform chest compressions as I screamed at 911 to hurry up and get there so they could save him while my mom cried over her boyfriend's body. Hearing my 2-year-old daughter wander into the room and innocently tell the collapsed man under me to "get up, come on" so they could go play. Desperately talking over my 9-year-old son's alarmed questions, asking him to take her away. "Just wait in your room. Turn the TV on. No, no he's not okay, all right?! We're trying to help him! Just go! Just stay there with your sister." The EMTs rolled stretchers through the house while ambulance lights flashed through the windows. And in the wake of it all, I just wandered through the dark empty house while I waited to hear word from my mom at the hospital, just crying and telling my kids, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."
My mom's boyfriend was alive but brain dead. He'd been without oxygen too long. They told me I did the chest compressions perfectly, but I just got to him too late. Days later, his family pulled the plug and he passed away.
I wish the dominoes would have fallen some other way.
I still catch myself doing that. Wishing vainly for things to be different. I'm trying to just accept things as they are and move forward. I guess that's where the grief part comes in. Just succumbing to what is, but not being happy about it still.
Financially, things suck. Suffice it to say, the last 12 months have kicked our asses. Trying to leave that godforsaken house, trying to leave my mom's house (she lived across the country), trying to establish ourselves in our new home and replace some of the things we'd lost... That took its toll. Never mind the dumb decisions we made when we were beyond unhappy and just wanted to numb the pain after over a year of denying ourselves any kind of indulgences. We have a plan to get out of the position we're in, but it's tight. All of the time. I have to eat humble pie every fucking day. When people talk about being to buy this or go there or do that, I just think, "Must be nice." It's so tough to do this with kids. They don't understand. They just get frustrated.
So y'know. That's why I'm not writing much. I have written some more, mind you. I have over a page done for the next chapter of What They Expect to Give. I'm even mostly done with the next chapter of What They Hope to Find, if anyone cares. Just need a scene or two (maybe 2-4 pages.) I'm not tagging this post with those stories, I just don't think it's worth it, honestly.
I go through bursts of productivity. I've been working on a website. It's best viewed on desktop, in 1920x1080 resolution. You can still see it on other platforms, but some stuff doesn't work. I'm trying to learn more HTML and CSS, so it's simple, but I did a few things I'm proud of. If you're bored, there are some interesting things there to pass the time with (just sayin'). I'm also trying to learn javascript. (I've given up on python for now. The job applications for that programming language I'm just not interested in).
The last two weeks have been really rough for motivation, though. There have been plenty of days where all I did was play Elder Scrolls Online and do the bare minimum to take care of the house and kids. I try to go outside and touch grass with them every day, at least. I know winter is coming and I'll regret missing the sun and warmth. I just wish I could appreciate it more. I also try to focus attention on both of them for whatever amount of time I feel I can every day. Play a game with my son. Read books to my daughter. But let's be honest, mommy's just not that fun right now. So long as they know I love them and I'm trying, I call that enough for now.
And I wish I had more for you guys, but I don't. I'm zeroed out in so many ways. I hope you all are doing lightyears better than I am right now.
Take care.
I'm rooting for you Nines
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I already told ya this, Tethered, but thank you. You're a true friend.
Would love to read more of What They Hope to Find when it’s ready, but take care of yourself first.
Please continue to do what you can and keep on keeping on, Nines!
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Thanks! Yeah, the next chapter is so close... The only reason I'm having trouble with the next portion is because it's a "feel-good" moment, and I'm usually not a great fount for coming up with that these days. Maybe if I forced it, but then it'd probably come across as saccharine and insincere, IMO.
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Thanks, Jay! I'm trying my best. Always good to hear from you. 😊