Do you remember as a child building a fort, or a bridge, or a tower out of wooden blocks? When it was completed, you stood so proud looking at your great achievement. Then…suddenly…your sibling strolls in and knocks down your architectural wonder in the space of seconds…running off…laughing…in the wake of total devastation. The ruins of your edifice lie at your feet. You’re standing in the midst of the destruction. The surreal scene replays in the minds eye over and over again. Your first impulse is to rebuild piece by piece, but frustration, anger, and exhaustion prevent you from taking that course of action.
Well, that day has resurfaced to haunt me once again.
Only this time…it’s my current living situation that lies in ruins…and all of my medical disabilities are that sibling…the one that strolled in…knocking down all I have built.
For reasons that are far beyond my control, it appears the inability to support myself any longer, while trying to manage all of my health issues, might be forcing me to move in… to move in with… to move in with my…dare I speak these words… my, my, my…
Parents.
Wait. Let me rephrase that.
Yes.
I am moving back in with My Parents.
[insert gun in mouth?]
For the past 4 days, I have been struggling with the decision to either:
1. Find a way to keep on fighting to stay in my condo?
OR
2. If I should just surrender?
Of course, the strong willed, determined, fighter in me, during full blown panic mode, and while using all of my last ditch efforts, tried to figure out any and all ideas that could, or would, keep me in the sanctuary of my own home. I spent the first 48 hours straight scheming.
I asked my current landlord for a rent reduction. One that I know he will never agree too, but I had to take a shot.
I looked into part time jobs.
I talked to my boss about a raise.
There is the possibility of seeking out entirely new employment.
I tried to try to find another apartment, one that falls more within my price range. However, to keep my son in the stable environment he has come to love and depend on means I have to stay in my area. My ‘area’ doesn’t exactly have ‘affordable’ housing.
Then, I considered a bunch of CRAZY ideas. [if you only knew what really goes on this head sometimes] But, I am just too old for that sort of nonsense. I have too much dignity and gained too much self respect to allow myself to do ‘things’ I would only regret later or that will make me feel ashamed.
So, instead, I spent the next 48 hours writing it all out. I didn’t sleep. I didn’t eat. I just wrote. I wrote at least 12 pages about the ‘backstory’ and how hard I have worked to get HERE. Here, in this very house I am living. I wrote at least another 12 pages of how hard I have been fighting to STAY HERE.
Believe you me when I tell you to ‘Thank Me’ for not posting all of that.
And then, I just cried. A lot.
Before I can even get into all of the fear surrounding the idea of moving back home with my Mom, Dad, and Poppa Sye, and before I can even begin to explain how painful it will be to capitulate my privacy, freedom and my independence…What’s really been bothering me so much? Whats been the driving force behind my total devastation?
The feeling of being a failure has been swallowing me whole.
When it felt like the world I have worked so hard to create was crashing down around me, there was so much resentment in my head and my heart. I was very angry thinking about how much I have already had to sacrifice over this last year. Take for instance the food issue, the fact that I can’t even enjoy the simple things like a bowl of mashed potatoes or a sip of Cranbury juice, was annoying at best.
But, now, on top of everything that has gone down this last year, knowing that I have to give up my house too? Well, that was just more than I could stomach.
My house is the single tangible representation of what I have accomplished over the last 5 years. To me, my house is the concrete proof of all my hard work, slaving, fighting, and surviving.
I am sad to say that after such careful construction to define every inch of my perfect living quarters, and using every hand crafted block in my proverbial arsenal to build my super fortress, now, I have to walk away.
I have finally decided to surrender. The gloves are off. I am done running circles in my head trying to find a another way only to prolong the inevitable.
I have begun to take a look at this whole thing from a completely different perspective, with different eyes.
I understand the most important thing is for me to get healthy again. I won’t be any good to anyone, or capable of doing any job, or paying any bill until I am better. I have painfully come to realize that hanging on to my house, the one that I love so much, the same one I cannot afford, is not helping my health issues. The stress of the bills, coupled with the disgusting amount of rent I have to pay, leaves me laying awake every night in cold sweats. The constant thinking, plotting, planning, begging, and borrowing, is one of the biggest factors in my life that only makes me sicker.
I know the sweetest night of sleep I will ever have is when I can close my eyes and not have all of that hanging over me. I know that if I sleep well, my body will have a better chance of healing. I know that by living under the protective roof of My Parents, I will be granted much needed relief, which, in turn, increase my chances of getting healthy again. And faster.
But, I have been on my own for soooo many years. How am I going to live with other people? Especially with people who are of the authoritarian nature. Ya’ll know I can’t even follow the rules of blog memes. How am I going to deal with new rules, or being told what to do? Will that angry teenager who still rages inside of me be awaken, or, will I be able to rise to the occasion like an adult?
Fortunately, I am already close with my family as most of you can tell from all the videos and photos. Us, Italians have to stick together. It’s not uncommon for whole families to live under one roof.
I am beginning to see how all of the possibilities of living together as one family will not only benefit me, but all of the parties involved.
I do like the fact that I won’t be or feel so alone anymore.
But I will really miss my alone time. A time I have come to treasure.
I really like the fact that for the first time in years, or maybe even ever, I will be able to save my money. I will have money in my pocket. Actual paper bills. And I will finally (after FOUR YEARS) be able to buy new shoes (instead of coloring in my scuffed ones with a black permanent magic marker).
But it’s not about the material things. Even though who ever said, “Money can’t buy happiness” just doesn’t know where to shop.
It;s about realizing that sometimes in life, you have to take a step backward in order to move forward.
It’s about reclaiming my energy, my drive, and my desire to live my life…without the constant anchor tied around my ankle…that feeling of drowning and suffocation.
It’s about embracing all my family has to offer, and giving back to them.
My son will get to live with three generations of men. Lord knows he needs at least one good male role model. Now he will have TWO.
My father will have people (like me and my son) to play his practical jokes on.
My son and my father can have their chess wars again. Or play golf, and tennis.
My mother and I will have each other to go walking with. We might even join a gym together. It will be nice to do girly things together. Like pedicures.
One of the best things about this (entire scary move) will be that I am going to really be able to focus on writing. Since I won’t be under the weight of the world, I might even decide to learn how to spell and use grammar properly.
Another bonus, I won’t even have to do my usual 5 -6 hour Sunday-Silk-Wood-Scrub-Down of my house anymore. My Parents have cleaning people. Cleaning people! People that will clean? For Me? Really?
Do you know what I can do with 5 whole hours on a Sunday? (Hmm… learn me some grammar? Rip into a Thesaurus? Get a better command of the written word or English Language? Or simply SLEEP).
Do you know what I will be able to do with that 1800 I spent every month just on rent? (Ahhh, new clothes).
I mean, I wont be living over there like a squatter. I will be paying my parents rent. Holy. Hell. I can even pay them back for all the ‘loans’ I have taken out over the course of my life time. But not at 1800 dollars a month!
To give me a little extra incentive or something to look forward to, my father suggested that once I am settled in, feeling better, and have saved up enough money, that I should look into going away on my dream vacation: spending two weeks in ITALY! (Except…I might not ever come back) Or, I might even plan that traveling tour which includes visiting certain bloggers I am dying to meet. (You know who you are).
Of course, I still have major trepidations; I am still very wary and very nervous about personality clashes, mood swings, or other arguments that will arise once I am moved in lock stock and barrel, but hey, that just might make for some good blog material. Right?
It is going to be a bit crowded, and certainly cramped, but thankfully, we all have our own separate rooms to go to when or if we need to escape being on top of each other.
The next few weeks are going to be rather hectic for me and my family. Aside from the holidays creeping up on us, now, I have to start packing up all of the things I love so dearly. The first thing I am going to do, is decide what I absolutely MUST bring with me, and then throw out or give away the rest.
There is also a lot of work to do over at my mothers house in order to make room for me and JCH to squeeze in there. So my weekends from here on out will be filled with trips to the storage units, moving furniture, packing boxes, cleaning house, and pairing down to the bare minimums.
In the mean time, I am going to spend as much time in this home , as long as I have this home to be in. I want to sit and bask in all of its glory and beauty…before I have to let it go.
This move isn’t going to happen over night. In fact, I am hoping to stretch this out as long as possible. Hopefully all the way until my lease ends in January. But, I don’t know how all that is going to pan out just yet.
On the one hand, yes…there are a lot of really great reasons to go back home.
But…on the other hand, I wish I could have all that is great about My Parents house AND been able to stay here.
(oh, yeah, and…I am still pretty scared).
