So we do in fact have a preliminary buyer for our house: there's still an inspection to get through, but the house is damn old and we already told them that, so hopefully it won't turn up anything too surprising.
And while this is good, this is a good, good thing, it is also horrifying and panic inducing. I'm freaking out a little bit, and there's this ball of tension in my belly that's amped waaaaaaaaay up, mostly because, pending inspection, we're expected to clear out by February the 23rd. Which is basically, two months and two weeks from today.
We do not have anyplace to go once we leave here, and that, my friends, is a terrifying thought. I'm afraid of how fast my parents are going to burn through that money: if we find a permanent place to live right away, I'm worried about how much a mortgage is going to cost and how my parents haven't paid rent, let alone a mortgage in over 25 years, and how they're totally not being realistic about how much we're going to be spending now just to live somewhere. And about how my less than $500 a month isn't really going to help out all that much there.
If we don't find a permanent place right away (and we haven't in the nearly a year we've been looking, since there's so many constraints on what we need, let alone what we'd like), then how quickly are we going to go through our money renting some place accommodating enough for us (ok - me), and how will we ever be able to make that money back?
I'm really working very, very hard at not freaking out about those things, because they are, in very large part, beyond my control: we're looking, we'll have to go someplace, it's just that there's so many unanswered things right now and I HATE THAT.
I read a lot about people who can look at these sort of things - these challenges and changes - as adventures, and these sort of people - even the real life people whose blogs I read - take things as they come and don't really worry excessively and somehow it all turns out alright. I would give anything to be one of those people, but I'm just not.
I'm trying to see this as optimistically as possible, but there's also the reality of what's happening, and that is this: in two months and two weeks, unless we do some very hard work very soon, we will have nowhere to live.
Nowhere to live.
If that isn't scary to you, then I don't understand how your brain works. (Obviously).
Now, granted, I don't think it's possible that we'd wind up living in our van (which, also, sadly is deciding it should fall apart little piece by little piece, lately), but it's like my parents are living on a cloud of denial where our dream house is going to be A) affordable, B) immediately available, and C) Right next door! and so I feel like the less they are able to face reality, the more I have to think about it.
Not that thinking about it is doing me any good, because honestly, what good is worrying about it here going to do? I just need to get it all out of my head for a little bit, just put it here and LEAVE IT HERE for a while.
We are working hard - looking at houses and more houses and more houses, farther away than we want, really, but maybe our best option at this point. We're looking at two families to own and one families to rent; we're looking at long range hotel rooms and another storage container. (Confidentially, I've even looked into independent housing for myself, even though I know I'm not up to it health wise, but all of the housing for people with disabilities around here just isn't appropriate for me: I don't need most services, don't qualify for some I could use, and can't live in a group environment where someone else is making the rules about smells and chemicals and whatnot.) We're doing the work, but the answers haven't presented themselves yet, and I'm just not a "leave it to the universe" type of person.
The universe has screwed me on more than one occasion, you might recall, so I'm not exactly sure it's looking out for our best interests.
So, with all of that in my head, I sure am glad I have this place to just spew, and also ----
And also, as I was just finishing up this lovely little rant, a cousin calls to tell me that my great aunt - who I was not close to and really only knew through special occasions and the fact that she was our family kleptomaniac ("Is Irene coming? Make sure the Waterford crystal is not on the sidebar!) has passed away and I will be required to attend yet another funeral early next week.
It's like I said a few weeks ago: what I wake up worrying about is never the stuff I wind up worrying about at the end of the day, so why do I even bother?
2008 has been a sucky, sucky year, and if 2009 isn't better I might have to punch it in the face.
1 comment:
I'm one of those people. The one's you mentioned who look at these sort of challenges as an adventure. How?
Faith, lot's of faith. And prayer, lot's of prayer. And sometimes, not even that is enough.
I've had ME/CFS and Fibromyalgia for almost thirteen years and have been seriously ill for the past four. For most of that time I've had no family support at all. And during this last relapse, I've been basically homeless for most of it.
In fact, in a couple of weeks, I'll be out on the street. I have no idea where I'll live or how. Like you, I don't think I can live independently. I don't qualify for most services. The response I get from most organizations and services is usually along the lines of 'if you were Mentally ill...drug-addicted...approved for SSI...hadn't applied for SSDI, etc we could do something. But we can't help you.' People with our illnesses slip through the cracks in the system without even touching the sides.
I'm working hard at the problem and also hoping and praying for a miracle. And feel fairly confident of getting one. Do I know what's coming? No idea. Is it kind of exciting? Yes. Am I absolutely terrified? Also, yes.
I'm sending a good thought your way.
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