I sold my house today. I got a good price. All in all, it went well (even if my anxiety was off-the-richter-scale high before the auction). I *should* be jumping for joy, right? Probably, but I just feel really sad (and really tired, after weeks of cleaning and showing my home off to a bunch of strangers each week!).
I’m guessing it’s sadness, anyway. I’m not very good at *feeling* the feelings, although PNT is teaching me. There’s a kind of pulling at the corners of my mouth, likes a sad ‘smiley’ face. And I feel heavy inside. And I’d kind of like to lie down and cry, only I’ve had an all round busy day and haven’t been able to do that.
So why am I sad? Well, I love this house. I know it’s only bricks and mortar, but I love it. I love the location, the house itself, the neighbourhood, the little park around the corner, the coffee shop around the other corner. I *even* like my neighbours. It’s the house I always wanted. Seriously. Ok, sure, it didn’t buy me the happiness or self-assuredness I think I thought it would, but it’s still the home I’ve always wanted. The proverbial ‘dream home’. Pretty much.
I know I’m selling it for practical reasons. The house is totally IMpractical for Mum and I. It’s too small. There’s no storage. And don’t even get me started on the steps at the front which make me constantly worried that Mum will fall and break a hip or something. We’re moving to a place that’s bigger… by half. I’ll have two bedrooms and a bathroom ALL TO MYSELF!!!! It’s in a similar location, in fact only 450 metres away. It’s closer to the river, which is also a lovely park. And I can easily still walk to my coffee shop.
All good, right? Wrong.
I feel like I’m giving up part of myself. This house was my dream. And it was mine. Slowly slowly, bit by bit, I feel like Mum has taken things away from me. I know that sounds ridiculous, and I don’t mean to be awful. But that feeling is there, just the same. After she moved in, I slowly lost a whole lot of stuff. I lost some of my independence. I lost a whole STACK of time. I lost my second bedroom. Now I’m losing the house, and soon probably my car (as Mum needs something with higher seats). I know these are all just possessions – meaningless possessions – but it feels like they’re an extension of me, or something. 😦
Kerro's Korner 
I hear ya Cous, it was your house and your things and now (however nice the new place is) it’s not *just* yours anymore.
Hugs x
Hi Cous, yea, I think there is a bit of “mine” going on, although not in that three year old way. I think it’s more than that though. I’m not sure if I can articulate it properly, but here goes: it’s almost like I’ve spent the last three years in therapy learning that I’m a person, my dreams are valid, I can pursue them (and should) … my house was a perfect example of all that. And now it’s all being taken away from me or something. 😦
Hi Kerro,
Even though it was your choice to let her move into your home, it did take away things from you bit by bit. That isn’t awful to feel or think. And to feel that and to know it does not make it ridiculous. You gave up a lot for her to make space in your life for her. What you are feeling is accurate, I believe, you spent time working on healing and growing, understanding your value and the value of your own dreams and aspirations and then you focus on someone else instead of yourself, well that would be very hard and a loss.
Possessions aren’t just things, we imbue them with power and energy. They are ours. We attach meanings and have attachments to them. We feel feelings about and at them and when interacting with them. Giving up a dream home that was achieved would feel like giving up a part of you.
Good and healing thoughts to you.
Kate
Hi Kate, yes, you’re right. I do feel like I’m giving up a part of me. And I have given up a lot to make space for her – which I’m happy to do, or would be if I thought she appreciated it. But it’s still a loss. Good and healing thoughts to you as well 🙂
I think it’s totally ok to grieve for losing what that house represented for you… dreams, your own space, something that you purchased for *you* and no one else… there’s an awful lot of emotion that can be associated with a house.
The new place is different… it was purchased with someone else in mind. Yes, you had a say in it, but it was still not the same as getting your own space, and place. It’s like there are provisos on everything… That can be a rough feeling.
Take care of yourself,
CG
I’m sorry if this is a dumb question. It’s meant more as an amazonian, butt-kicking about putting yourself first.
Why are you looking after your mom? Did she protect you from your abuser? Is she supportive to you? Does she appreciate it? Do you want to? She’s an adult, right? You don’t have to give yourself away any more. Your needs and desires are your own responsibility and hers are hers.
People with normal families might have to look after their mother’s in their old age, but child abuse survivors don’t. We just don’t. It doesn’t matter if others don’t get it.
I respect your choices, but if your survivor self needs some backup, this is for her.
Good and healing thoughts,
SDW
@ Castorgirl – I’m sorry it’s taken me a ridiculously long time to respond to your comment. DOH! Your comment really struck a chord with me – this so totally isn’t about my space at all, you’re right. I hadn’t realized that before. In better news I’ve been investing some effort into planning my new rooms so that they can be a retreat for me when I need it. It’s fun and I’m hoping will help me find a haven somewhere. 🙂
@ Sword Dancer – thank you for the butt-kicking. 🙂 I need that more regularly than you might think. You’re right, totally right. I don’t have to support her, look after her, or any of that. But I didn’t have the heart to say no. Part of that was me being the dumb abused kid who always wants to please and do the *right* thing (whatever that is)… but it’s also about looking after her in her final year/months/whatever. Just because she hasn’t been there in my times of need doesn’t mean I should abandon her in hers. Sometimes it really does break my heart to see her so sick and frail. Thanks again for supporting my survivor self – she does get left behind a bit lately. Too much so.