So I briefly have mentioned my dream to have a Clayton Home. Specifically this one, the Winchester Flex 32 Wide. I daydream about decorating my home and what it will be like to live in it. We currently live with my SO’s parents and SO’s child (my Bonus daughter). It’s a combination of things. I’ve had a ton of mental health issues.
A few years ago at my last job, the stress became so bad that I was self-harming (again), nail biting and picking at my skin, as well as having suicidal ideations daily. There was a point where I was working late to just get my normal work done, but my coworker told my direct supervisor that I was clocking out early. After a certain point, which included cleaning literally crap off the walls (kids smearing poop on the bathroom walls every day), you just can’t take it anymore.
I quit my job. Cried like a lil bish. And eventually ended up helping out more around the house to earn my keep. My SO’s mother has leukemia so I try to help where I can, but I never really feel like I’m doing enough. That’s a battle with my own brain for my own self-worth, as well as possible differences in generation values. I’m honestly blessed to have a roof over my head with all my mental health issues. I haven’t been able to get disability.
A lot of people don’t honestly believe that Bipolar, PTSD, and Generalized Anxiety are enough reason to have disability. And more recently I’ve been doing better with my DBT and CBT therapy along with the medications. I did apply for a part-time job at the local library, but I wouldn’t be bringing in that much dough. If you think I’m lazy or stupid, you might probably want to not read anymore of my blog posts…
I won’t talk too much more about my mental health issues since that’s getting off the main topic. I think about homes and living space a lot because I haven’t had a home in so long. My ex-husband left me in the Fall of 2014. The house we had together was sold and he managed to leave me with nothing in the divorce. I was a stay-at-home-wife and had no spare income to fight for myself. (My mother even helped give us some funds for the down payment on the house, but that didn’t really matter.) I lived in that house for nearly four years. I miss it sometimes. I even looked at it on Zillow recently to discover the people who bought it from us sold it.
The house had some bad memories in it. A lot of mental abuse. A bit of physical. I would never move back into that house even if someone where to hand me the keys to it free of charge. There’s just some sadness to not having a home. I moved across the country from Georgia to Michigan to live on my friend’s couch until I got back on my feet. Divorce papers arrived the same day I unpacked my belongs into a storage unit (which was the same day I arrived in Michigan).
Most of my belongs have been in storage since then. I briefly … very briefly… had an apartment in 2015. Then my SO and I moved into his parent’s home so that he could attend college. So the idea of a house is very romantic to me. I had a home and then all of my things ended up going into storage. It’s frustrating to know that so many things are put away. And people always suggest just tossing things, but I know that I honestly have a very hard time doing that.
Back in 2009, I was homeless. My ex-husband and I broke up briefly in 2008 due to his cheating (gosh that happened a lot). I moved in with a friend in Missouri and things were okay. Then they weren’t. I was kicked out of my friend’s apartment. His girlfriend was uncomfortable with another woman staying in his apartment. Fun times. I only had a suitcase worth of belongs. I remember that first night in the snow. It’s terrifying.
LEFT: Sleeping on an air mattress in a friend’s apartment. RIGHT: Couch surfing was one of my lowest points.
The next few months of homelessness were terrifying. I had no vehicle because my ex had totaled my SUV months prior to our break up. At one point I was working and using a Planet Fitness membership to shower and sleep in friend’s cars or on couches because sleeping outside in a Midwest Winter was not an option. I eventually managed to save up enough to get my own car once more and then I was able to rent out a room in a house. I’ll have to talk about the Zephyr situation at another point. One of my roommates there is a sad, but special subject.
So … needless to say, I really, REALLY love the idea of owning my own home again. Haha. Also, I believe my stint of time being homeless is likely one of the additional reasons I have issues with food. There’s issues from my youth that makes me insecure with food and causes me often times to eat my feelings, but after being homeless, it definitely adds a layer of complexity to things.
Sorry if this post was really dark or sounds too whiney. I just hope that my stories explain a bit of background to how my mindset works. I’ll add some brainstorming sketches to the end of this post. Enjoy and thanks as always for being here!
Atelier Whootique 