Stupid House

Ever since the morning of my "blast o' serenity", that allowed me let go of some serious shit from my childhood, a lot of other serious shit has been rolling through my brain.  Okay - so the other stuff isn't quite as serious as forgiving the woman who gave birth to me for being a crappy mom - but it's kind of serious if for no other reason than I can't seem to let it go and I don't, for the life of me, know why.

I miss my house by the beach.  Not necessarily the location (because we never actually went to the beach much) but the actual house.  I can't put my finger on why but it truly was my dream home...not house because I can dream bigger than that...but the home.  This is not news, I've blogged about it before, even I'm sick of hearing about it.

I have been trying to let go of that sucker for five years and I'm hoping, with my mom out of the way, I might be able to try again now.  I just get such an ache in my heart whenever I think about that house.  It's like I broke up with someone and the other person has moved on and married someone else and I'm regretting the decision to break up.  In this case, the "other woman" is affectionately referred to as "The Bitch That Lives in My House".  I'm sure she's a perfectly wonderful woman.  I've never even met her.  Doesn't matter.

This is such an odd feeling for me because I don't really get that attached to things like this (with the possible exception of a 1984 Nissan 300ZX Turbo).  I mean, I am a child of low income apartment living.  Nothing was actually ever ours - we were just borrowing it and, because we were low income and my mother was a lousy money manager, we were always on the precipice of being tossed out on our ample asses.  It was a good idea not to get too attached to the apartment or anything in it for that matter.

To show you how unattached I am to things like this, I submit for your consideration the fact that I drove away from the first home the hubs and I made together without so much as a glance over my shoulder - after 20 freaking years!  Still shaking my head over that one...

Sigh...I only lived in this house I can't let go for four years.  Four freaking years and I'm letting it take up real estate in my head (heart) like I freaking gave birth to the damn thing!  Still shaking my head over that one too.

There are a few facts that I've been acknowledging as a way to break free. For example, (and this is a big hairy one) there is no way I could have stayed in that house and gotten sober in a sane way.  Not only were there too many ghosts after my mom passed, but there were too many party people around me.  All my close friends were heavy drinkers and we entertained a lot.  I'm sure that eventually I could have done it but I don't think as successfully as I've done it here.

As far as I can reason, God moved us here and plopped me down in a neighborhood where I didn't know anyone and then put Mary Kay Cosmetics in front of me.  A tea-totaling organization, full of women who have A LOT of fun without so much as a drop of alchohol...seriously...I didn't even realize that was an option until I met them.  I mean, I knew it was possible, I just didn't know it was an option for me.  Even during my heavy drinking times I could go away with these women for 3 or 4 days and not drink AND have a blast.  Don't get me wrong, I thought about drinking a lot but it didn't get in the way of my fun.  It also planted a seed, one that grew over time and one that I grabbed on to for support when I finally put down the wine bottle.

And this place is so much better for my children and that, in and of itself, is reason enough to love the place.  When I needed AA there were so many more resources here than there would have been there.  If I had gotten laid off while in our old town, we would have been way more screwed than we were here, there is no work in that town.  Probably would have ended up in forclosure.  And, I have found so many more friends and extended family here than I ever would have found there.  So many more like-minded people who I admire and from whom I would love to learn.  In terms of friends and "family", this place is second only to my home town.  The truth of the matter is that I was a little lonely in the last town. 

Bigger sigh...

So now I'm on a mission to maybe figure out why I can't seem to let go of a house built in 1984 that functions on septic and well, in a town so small you can't change your mind without someone else weighing in on the decision, with nothing for teens to do and no employment opportunities.  Why I still feel that familiar ache and tears prick my eyes when I think too hard about it.  Why I can't fall in love with our current home the same way (even though we are going to be living in it A LONG ASS time).  Why I can't just move the hell on!!!!

Dang I can be stubborn.

Namaste