Last month we got the keys to our new house. The house we bought. Together. We felt ready to make a financial and emotional commitment of such large proportions not only because we felt we could handle it, but also because we wanted to make that commitment to each other and our relationship. The last post I made on this blog was on the day we got the keys to our house. It was supposed to be a joyous day. It was not. I have not made any posts since then because I have been too entrenched in a stressful situation which has, at all moments this past month, left me exhausted, drained, angry, confused, scared, and anxious. The limits to what I am capable of withstanding have consistently been pushed. In spare moments we have felt the small joys of finally owning a home together which is bindingly ours, but those moments are fleeting and always replaced by reminders of the monster outside.
Due to my passion for court TV and all it has taught me I have hesitated to post anything about the specifics of what is going on as I do not believe it would be legally wise for me to go around venting and complaining on the internet. At this juncture attorneys have already become involved and the level to which this thing is going to go is still unclear. I do, however, feel it is necessary to make some sort of explanation as to why I have been the absent, emotional, scattered, nervous, crybaby freak that is inhabiting this body for the last five weeks.
One thing I have learned since becoming a homeowner in this absurdly stressful way is that large-scale issues that come up in homeownership are, at their core, really boring. They are not like, super exciting to talk about and are hard to sensationalize to make them gossip-worthy. They are just technical and beaurocratic webs of time consumption and loss of sleep. I have tried several times to think if you could make a film about the epic situation we are in right now, and you can't. It's just way. Too. Boring. And yet, despite something being this boring it still manages to be totally life altering, even if it is only temporary. There should be some sort of "Boring Issue Stress Support Group" where people like us can go and talk about the things that really no one else cares about. I actually bore myself when I tell other people about it.
There is a monster that lives outside our house. It was here when we got here, and it wasn't supposed to be. In the last five weeks we have focused all our efforts on resolving the unsavory situation and making the monster go away. But despite all intentions and best efforts the monster has only gotten bigger. At the start the monster involved several parties and today it involves several more. It's not just a matter of dealing with something you don't like or finding money you don't have to pay for something; it is about satisfying all the many parties involved before any one of us can move on. And all anyone wants is to move on. And yet somehow no one can agree on how to make that happen. And here I sit, with the Giraffe, at the epicenter of this mess, feeling like we hold all the responsibility for this monster because it's on our property, and also feeling like we have the least amount of control over what happens and how. Or when. All the responsibility and none of the control makes for a hyper-stressful situation. What are you supposed to do when you can't do anything?
The monster outside represents the struggle of embracing helplessness. I have surrendered in this process many times and still have to do it again every couple of days. The monster outside represents the two sides to every story and what happens when each side stays steadfast in their belief that their story is the right one. The monster outside represents what happens when the two sides go back and forth for so long: they leave an opening for a third party to enter. The monster outside represents the mammoth misfortune of wanting to do something the right way, which is that the right way is arduous, complex, and spares no expense of people's feelings. The monster outside represents what happens when people don't communicate and sincerely drives home how tiring communicating can be. The monster outside represents my own fear of the unknown: never knowing the extent of how bad things can get and fearing the worst. The monster outside is what it is and it is also more than what it is. It is a leaky basement and a giant hole and 4 tons of dirt and cracks in the cement and insurance companies and lawyers and cop cars and terse emails and trails of mud. It is also testing my resolve and the strength of my relationship and my fortitude and my focus and my ability to stop crying and put on a professional voice and questioning my trust in my own brain and ability to juggle and problem solving skills and sleep habits and nutrition habits and anxiety management habits and the little pessimistic voice in the back of my mind sneering at the optimistic voice "I told you, motherfucker. I told you this would be hard." .
Someday this will all be fine. Hopefully that day will be soon. There are a lot of people involved in this process and all I really want is for everyone to be ok. I'm not angry at anyone. I do know and trust that it's going to be ok. Eventually this will be ok and we will sit around our totally glorious house laughing at how crazy all this was. I know that. I DO know that. We just aren't there yet.
We are still putting in 18 hour days of emails, phone calls, and relay races of information to find some proper resolve to this totally boring situation and make the monster outside go away.
There is a monster that lives outside our house. It was here when we got here, and it wasn't supposed to be. In the last five weeks we have focused all our efforts on resolving the unsavory situation and making the monster go away. But despite all intentions and best efforts the monster has only gotten bigger. At the start the monster involved several parties and today it involves several more. It's not just a matter of dealing with something you don't like or finding money you don't have to pay for something; it is about satisfying all the many parties involved before any one of us can move on. And all anyone wants is to move on. And yet somehow no one can agree on how to make that happen. And here I sit, with the Giraffe, at the epicenter of this mess, feeling like we hold all the responsibility for this monster because it's on our property, and also feeling like we have the least amount of control over what happens and how. Or when. All the responsibility and none of the control makes for a hyper-stressful situation. What are you supposed to do when you can't do anything?
The monster outside represents the struggle of embracing helplessness. I have surrendered in this process many times and still have to do it again every couple of days. The monster outside represents the two sides to every story and what happens when each side stays steadfast in their belief that their story is the right one. The monster outside represents what happens when the two sides go back and forth for so long: they leave an opening for a third party to enter. The monster outside represents the mammoth misfortune of wanting to do something the right way, which is that the right way is arduous, complex, and spares no expense of people's feelings. The monster outside represents what happens when people don't communicate and sincerely drives home how tiring communicating can be. The monster outside represents my own fear of the unknown: never knowing the extent of how bad things can get and fearing the worst. The monster outside is what it is and it is also more than what it is. It is a leaky basement and a giant hole and 4 tons of dirt and cracks in the cement and insurance companies and lawyers and cop cars and terse emails and trails of mud. It is also testing my resolve and the strength of my relationship and my fortitude and my focus and my ability to stop crying and put on a professional voice and questioning my trust in my own brain and ability to juggle and problem solving skills and sleep habits and nutrition habits and anxiety management habits and the little pessimistic voice in the back of my mind sneering at the optimistic voice "I told you, motherfucker. I told you this would be hard." .
Someday this will all be fine. Hopefully that day will be soon. There are a lot of people involved in this process and all I really want is for everyone to be ok. I'm not angry at anyone. I do know and trust that it's going to be ok. Eventually this will be ok and we will sit around our totally glorious house laughing at how crazy all this was. I know that. I DO know that. We just aren't there yet.
We are still putting in 18 hour days of emails, phone calls, and relay races of information to find some proper resolve to this totally boring situation and make the monster outside go away.
I've barfed, I've cried, I've hidden in the folds of my bed and shivered like a hairless dog. I've reasoned with myself why I've got to stop feeling so stressed and it's momentarily worked. The only permanent solution is yet to be discovered.
This probably raises more questions to anyone reading than it provides answers. Sorry, America. A totally boring explanation of something I didn't even explain. But I've been feeling like I can't do anything. Except this. This is something I can do. Ramble vaguely.
This probably raises more questions to anyone reading than it provides answers. Sorry, America. A totally boring explanation of something I didn't even explain. But I've been feeling like I can't do anything. Except this. This is something I can do. Ramble vaguely.
