The
edge has been creeping back the past few days, but at least I
understand why. Ryan and I (Mostly Ryan), have been totally working our
buns off. For the first time ever, I have a full-time job. I am making
steady income. Ryan is finally back to work after a significant left
finger (the nose picking one) incident leave. Ryan has also been getting overtime every single week.
At the end of the week last week, I had a significant realization that owning a house was now a tangible goal.
Ryan, Lucy, and Myself having our own little place.
I have felt incredibly homeless since my mother and step father lost our house to bankruptcy in the fall of 2008. That's more than six years feeling unsettled about it. No matter what I did, I just never felt at home anywhere. Well... besides my Grandparents house in upper state Vermont. But they are trying to sell it anyways... The days I've spent there since I've found that out have been heavily fogged with knowing I would not always be welcome at that sanctuary. It already feels unwelcoming and foreign. But, I regress...
Needless to say, the second Ryan mentioned that, one day we would have a house together, I've been totally and completely obsessed by the idea. And I didn't want to just rent a house under the watchful eye of some ever-present landlord. I wanted to OWN a house. I wanted it to be my little family's little piece of heaven where we could do what suited us as a family. And we would never have to move, unless of course, that's what we wanted!
Until now, that desire had been completely a dream. I wasn't working enough, Ryan wasn't working at all. But lately, we've been doing a pretty good job figuring things out for ourselves. It isn't easy. But we are doing much better. So, just out of pondering, I found myself Google-ing a mortgage estimate. Low and behold, Ryan and I could "afford that easy". Those words are straight out of Ryan's mouth.
I immediately found myself searching for homes in the area and falling dearly in love with some of them. Dreaming about things I would love to do and have there. What it would be like. How it would be better than where we are now. How I could make it my own. All of these thoughts making me feel incredibly excited and slightly on the edge. One might say, Anxious.
The sun begins to disappear behind some grey clouds moving in, and the anxiety finds its way back into the forecast for my brain realm.
I begin to get these "What if" feelings. What if we buy a house and something terrible happens? What happens if we can't afford it? Will it tear us apart? Will it tear me apart? Will Lucy feel homeless like I do? I would never ever want that for her...
Between my two parents, who were together, but then divorced in my early years, and other things, I've had around 20 homes.
My favorite home was in Hardwick. It was a decent-sized, three bedroom house with a little yard. It was the first time I had ever had my own bedroom with four large windows to look out and kept my room light (I mean most of the times I was too lazy to open the shades but now a days I am less lazy and love windows). I picked the color of the room, the rug, and the sheets. I didn't put up curtains because I thought they were dumb. I built the pre-fab desk and utility cabinet myself. It made me feel like a bad-ass to have built them! This was my little space! My mother kept the yard looking adorable. Between the apple trees, the hosta bushes, the little bush-like trees, the maple tree and the tiger lilies, the yard was neatly kept. Well, that was until we got a golf cart. This thing was equipped with a snow mobile engine and ripped around like you wouldn't believe. I could pile all of my friends on there and tear that thing across the fields and off a bump on the hill. My friends would have to hold onto the roll bar for their flipping lives. The living room was huge! We had a beautiful pool table, which occasionally was reason for a fun family activity (family activities are few and far between). The living room had a pellet stove I could lean against and warm up under my favorite pair of hideously awkward pajamas. There was plenty of room in there, so I could put my saddles under the window and they were right there when I felt like cleaning them. I could also stare out the living room window, and watch my beautiful horses graze on a huge plot of land many horse owners would literally kill over. I would call to my girls as I got off of the bus and they would call back. Even though we did not own the land, I was still fortunate enough to enjoy the beauty of it even from my own home. I could go and visit my horses whenever I wanted. It was my responsibility to care for them and I loved it. I give them all the thanks I can for keeping me out of the troubles that many of my peers fell into. This place is home to many of my favorite childhood memories.
Things didn't stay well forever though. The last year or two we lived there, my parents fell into financial hardship. Our meals became more bland, the snack cabinet stayed empty. My mom stopped cooking, and painting and being artsy. My parents started fighting more. Yelling, screaming, swearing every night. But at least I had my own room. Then the winter came. The house was so cold. I remember feeling cold all of the time. I found myself a boyfriend that my mom hated. Some of the negative energy was then focused on me and I was put out of sorts. Of course I chose to stay with the boyfriend, so relations between my parents and I only got worse. Eventually I moved to college, and my parents lost the home. I had no say in what things of mine or our family's (that I didn't take to college) got thrown or was kept. My boyfriend at the time, broke into the house afterwards and did some shady things out of spite that was blamed on my parents. I was too stubborn to ask for help from my parents and I tried mooching off my friends. I said things I never should have and burned even the strongest of bridges. I started becoming irresponsible and my beautiful horses suffered. Their paddock broke and they kept getting out. I didn't have enough money to feed them appropriately so they kept going to other places to look for food. I was too stubborn to find them homes because I didn't want to lose them too. I ended up losing them anyways. My life at my favorite home ended in a nightmare.
I lost amazing friends forever.
My precious horses suffered.
I threw my relationship with my beloved mother away.
I lost my sense of home.
I gained many feelings of sickening guilt and disgust for myself.
The weather is Snow. Silent, quiet, cold. Snow.
So if Ryan and I got a house, would we spend our winters cold and hungry? Would we ever be able to care for our family? Would we be able to care for our home? Would I ever be able to own a horse again? Would we lose our home too? Would it tear us apart? How would it be for Ryan and Lucy?
It pains me to think of these things, and terrifies me. I know I should be smart, and that all of these things could happen. If they do, it won't be the end of the world like before. We wouldn't let it get that bad. Right?
So right now, my brain is very much like New England weather. The sun is out and clear, clouds creep out of nowhere and cloud the sky, thunder rumbles in the distance. A few rain drops fall here and there. Sometimes a gust of wind. But so far, I've been able to keep the storm in the distance.
It's so lovely to have something to look forward too. A wonderful goal that is now becoming a reality. I should be cautious not fearful, but sometimes it is hard to keep the storm at bay.