It's been a couple of weeks, with me sinking into a dark place as bad news followed bad news. I've been confronting shame and guilt. Fear and uncertainty. Moments where I haven't felt safe talking about them as I didn't want to be a source of pity or judgment.
Slowly, I've been reasoning my way out of this viewpoint. Having inner dialogue about how writing about it all after it's been worked out will only leave me miserable and how the best way to counter shame is confront it head on. Funny how easy this advice is to give and yet to follow.
So here's the skinny: 2 weeks ago Grey and I have an excellent offer on our condo. The two hurdles in front of us was the appraisal and the resale certificate. The appraisal would have come back fine, given what the market has been doing, but the resale certificate stopped us dead in the water. It revealed a potential project the HOA board has been talking about for a number of years with one bid we used for developing a savings plan. And it was that information that caused our buyer to jump ship. It made the property toxic.
I've done a lot of crying and screaming. There have been moments where the anxiety got the better of me. The road ahead is very uncertain, but what has become clear is that those guiding us do so to profit themselves. It's hard not to be bitter about that.
But something else has come out of this. For years, Grey has blamed me for this condo. I pushed hard to purchase it early in our relationship, arguing that it would be a good starter home for us. I never expected the recession or to be locked in as long as we have been. And so he's been very angry with me. Losing this seller and my subsequent meltdown has sparked him to reanalyze all of that. To recognize that things have gone far beyond all that we could controlled and our choices didn't cause this. Hence we been slowly working together to come up with a solution.
Despite this, asking for help has been hard. There's a moment of opening yourself to judgment that is utterly terrifying. That something is wrong inherently with you and you somehow deserve this fate. I've found myself drawing away, becoming more withdrawn. Life seems to pass around me without me being a part of it. It's a weird existence.
All of it has me remembering infertility. Though the empty pit of sadness filling my stomach doesn't exist this time, the anxiety and quiet moments spent running scenarios through my head do. And I'm realizing that the only way to get out of this cycle is to start talking about it.
Mali wrote a post today echoing all of this and another post from Jess about wanting her story told really drove this home. That life isn't about the perfect or finished products that society values. Sure, they're nice and wonderful when they happen, but often it's the messy stuff that sculpts us and makes us into who we ultimately will be.
So as of today, I'm bringing our current struggle to light. Talking about my ongoing struggle to understand construction bids and terminology, figuring out financing for a HOA and trying to determine if we need to terminate contracts with those we've worked with. All this from 3000 miles away and while juggling the rest of life. Planning a coup d'etat has been an interesting experience.
Anyone who has undergone a full reclad project, please feel free to offer sage advice.
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