So This Happened...

I just want to capture this while it's fresh in my head.

For those who don't share my faith, when I say God spoke to me, I don't mean that I heard the voice of God speaking to me in English. Some people might interpret the experience as the universe bringing them to a decision, others might say they followed their gut and others might say their sub-conscious observations led them to a conclusion. If you are put off by my faith and how I choose to interpret my experiences you probably aren't going to like this story anyway.

Ok so...

God and I have been talking a lot lately about my current state of well-being. I have asked him for help with my physical health (including my apparent inability to control my weight), as well as my emotions, anxiety, and grief. He has been impressing upon me the importance of healthy relationships and the impact of unhealthy ones. He's also been rolling his eyes at me for not letting go of the issues I'd given to him months ago.

It recently became necessary to completely sever one of my most important relationships and (although it was ultimately the right decision) the end of that friendship creates a bit of a vacuum in certain areas of my life.

I don't like having a ton of people around and I hate having plans (although I love spur of the moment activities). I really enjoy solitude, so it's a paradox that I struggle so much with isolation and the feelings of loneliness, anxiety, and depression that come with it.

I knew that cutting ties with my most reliably available friend was going to amplify this struggle and I have been working on finding something to fill the gap.

It seems odd to say that God told me to join Mountainside Fitness, but it's certainly not an idea that I would have come up with or pursued on my own. I have been thinking about it for a few days and have received a few pretty solid confirmations.

I was hem-hawing about it today and trying to talk myself out of it. My primary concerns being my current lack of disposable income and my chronic lack of balance or agility. Finally, it just clicked and the decision was made.

I had to go pick up my car from the service center and I stopped by the gym to sign up on my way home. I spoke with a woman who showed me around and she asked me what I was looking for from my Mountainside membership and what I hoped to get out of it.

I don't know why, but I told her the truth. I told her my attempts to date had gone poorly and I was just looking for a mildly social environment where I could come when I didn't know what else to do with myself.

We ended up talking about my housing situation and the transitions I've been through. We talked about the desire to move on and become my own independent person and how involuntary inner strength can sometimes be.

We talked about exercise machines and yoga classes and membership dues.

We talked about her relationship with God and her own fears and doubts. We talked about how hard it can be to clearly hear God's voice and to act with confidence on his instruction.

I wasn't trying to witness to her, but I could see that she was internalizing my story. She told me a bit about her situation and it became clear that my experiences were very relevant to her current circumstances.

I don't remember what it is that I said, but her response was, "That's exactly what I needed to hear right now."

I have been in conversations like this a million times over the past 2+ years, but it's completely bizarre to be on this side of it.

Being silly with Brian. I think this was from the very first First
Friday Concert in Eastmark. 

Moving Out Or Moving On?

I'm experiencing a lot of anxiety over the sale of my house and building a new home. In fact, I find I'm obsessing about it and unable to calm myself. Thoughts about the following have taken over my brain and won't allow me to be present or mindful of the things I enjoy in life:

Money - The sale price of my current home, the purchase price of my new house, size and terms of my mortgage, paying for the backyard and ceiling fans and other finishing touches, operating costs of the new house and what my new budget might look like. The cost of interim housing. 

Prestige - My new house will not be as impressive as my current house. No built-in double oven (that I never use), no walk-in shower, no unnecessarily large laundry room and ridiculously large walk in closet, no cabinets or workbench in the garage and no den at all. My interim housing will probably be a bit humbling as well.  

Moving - changing my address (twice) with the VA and the potential for problems with my DIC claim that has already been in process for 2 years. Changing all of my services and utilities (most of which are still in Brian's name). What to take with me, what to sell, what to give away, what to throw away. What to do with Brian's stuff - his bike, his lightsaber and swords, his video games and movies, his popcorn maker, his guns, his remaining clothes, his Army uniform and the list just goes on forever. How much of Brian do I bring with me to the new house? How much of my downsized space do I dedicate to artifacts of Brian's life? 

Interim housing - What are the move-in costs? Will Cooper and Tess be ok in an apartment? Do I need to rent a house? Should I try to live cheap and save up some cash? This could be my opportunity to live downtown for a little bit. 

None of these things are entirely out of my control. Some of them have parameters and some rely on other people, but for the most part, it's up to me to determine what price I'll accept for my house and what I'll pay for the new one and what I'll do in the backyard and what loan terms are acceptable. The value I place on the design options I choose or don't choose is entirely up to me. I can't control the VA's incompetence, but I can follow up with them every day until the end of time to make sure my correspondence isn't going to the wrong address. I control what comes with me to the new house and I get to choose where I live in the meantime. 

I actually think that's the piece that makes this so unsettling. 

I'm really proud of how far I've come. Money and these types of things were not a concern of mine when Brian was alive. For good or bad, we did things Brian's way. When he died, I got thrown in the deep end.

I had to make quick decisions on some fairly complex financial options at a time when my brain was just barely functional. For obviously emotional reasons, I fixated on keeping my house. 

My current house has been my comfort zone since shortly after Brian died. It's more than a roof over my head. It's the manifestation of our life together.

We started out with nothing. Brian was an orphan and my family didn't have any money to speak of. Our wedding probably cost less than your last birthday party and it wouldn't have occurred to either of us at that time to even dream of living in a home like this in a place like Eastmark.

Our first home was a 350 sq ft studio apartment in Alliance, Ohio.We worked in fast food restaurants for just a little over minimum wage (which was $4.25 at the time). Brian actually lost his job a few weeks after we were married.

Education and opportunity were not easy to come by, so a few years later Brian joined the Army. When he got out he took a job with the phone company in Arizona. A few years after that he agreed to work his ass off so that I could become a full-time student. I graduated in 2009 (at the height of the Great Recession) and worked in retail and call centers for a little bit longer before my real career actually started. 

It took us 15 years to get our shit together, so moving into this beautiful house in this amazing community was a point of pride. It was the culmination of our efforts. We'd finally gotten to where we were going. 

It has taken two full years to even consider the financially-sound option of getting something smaller and more manageable. In my mind, so long as I live in this house our life together isn't really over. 

I think I'm uncomfortable, not for fear of the unknown or the uncontrolled, but because I am in control. I've made a choice that comes with a lot of emotion. I've chosen to move beyond my life with Brian and into whatever the rest of my story will be. As empowering as that is, it's also incredibly uncomfortable. 

Brian in a hard hat during the construction of our house.