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.