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Enough, Already
April 27, 2007 | Category: In My Life
I need a new t-shirt. One that says "I'm Sorry".
Because I am.
My husband, my friends, my house, my son, my family, my blog have all put up with being neglected for almost 6 months, now.
Well, "put up with it" is probably stretching things.
"Endured" is a better word.
I read on a board today ... "It helps to have low expectations" and almost snorted my coffee out my nose.
It's just so true about my days right now.
I look at pictures even from as recently as last summer and realize how barely I am keeping my head above water.
My doctor acked if there was any way to lower the stress level, and we didn;t come up with anything.
Mostly, though? We need to sell this house.
I wish my husband was the kind of guy who could take the lead with that. Or even, you know, help.
He hasn't done anything, though.
CD says he wants to move, but is completely and utterly paralyzed about doing anything about it. He can do chores, take our son to T-Ball games and Karate, even balance the bills.
But when it comes to the stuff that needs to happen for the house to go on the market - the roof, bathroom, and kitchen - he can't so much as arrange for someone to give us a quote.
When we got back from our Canadian trip, I just sort of collapsed again. Overwhelmed by what needs to be done and how alone it feels to be facing it without him.
I think if a truck rolled up tomorrow, he would go sit in the car and pretend it wasn't happening.
A 100-year old house with plaster and lathe walls that constantly shed a fine dust that makes out son sick is obviously something that needs to be addressed.
A 100-year old house that we can not afford because of our reduced income? Ditto.
A 100-year old house across the street from a pedophile and in a poor school district? Yeah, you've caught the trend.
The point is that we need to move. Canada, Iceland, Maine, Timbuktu. Don't matter where, so much as SOON.
We agreed this last Thanksgiving, and put together a plan. One that needs two people to execute, but only me is doing. And as I battle my illness, I have become so afraid that a disaster is looming.
And I don't know what to do.
I don't want to be Chicken Little in my home anymore. Flapping my arms up and down and trying to get CD motivated to DO something for the house.
Enough already.
Enough, dammit.
Enough.
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