The Pain in My Heart Over Moving

 So, really. What's the big deal? Why does it hurt so much to move? Why is my heart breaking? I really can't figure it out. 

Some say it’s because I love my home too much because I've stayed here too long. Some think it’s because it’s the place where I move after divorce AND that HORRIFIC gut-wrench, soul-destroying break-up. Some say it’s because I’m attached, in a bad way. 

But here's the thing. If I were moving in to my dream home, I would not be grieving, sad, heart-broken, angry or depressed.

So why? Why does this ache so badly?

If I were moving into a better place in life, like the house, this would be a completely different move.


1. Loss of Power & Control

I am moving not by choice but because I am forced to. This was not my decision. 

2. Moving into worse circumstances

I am losing my garage, my porches and yard, my fireplace, my air conditioning, my granite counter tops, my 2-door fridge, my beautiful hardwood floors, my pedestal sink.


What this amounts to for me is this:

  • Angry that I'm forced out. 
  • Depressed that I am losing so much of what I have worked hard to obtain.
  • Angry, depressed, self-hatred because I am trying to provide for Oliver something even better, and instead I'm providing less. 
  • Fear that it will be miserable
  • Fear that I will hate it every single day of our life there and become very depressed
  • Fear that my car will get broken in to
  • Fear that it will be too hot
  • Fear that I will be greatly missing the patio
  • Fear that I will not have a yard
  • Fear that I have too much stuff and where to store it
  • Fear that I am stuck in lease and cannot house shop
  • Angry that this is costing me money that I would not have to spend if I could just stay here until I buy a house.

What's happening is that my heart is hurting REALLY REALLY BAD, and I can't make it stop!

I was doing OK until Oliver did not help with the garage and instead was on SnapChat. I got so angry at him and felt like he was my enemy, not my son. It made me feel more alone than I was before. Now my ONE person to help won't help. Can't help. Forgets to help. Doesn't have the brain and common sense to help. 

And after he did that I realized I am 100% alone and that this is 100% on me. I am still so seething angry with him, and I can't stop those feelings. I try not to be so mad. Yesterday, 24 hours after the snapchat incident, we were getting back on track and then he made a plate so hot that when I put it in my hands, I dropped it on the floor and burnt my hands. One more time, my temper flared. I JUST CAN'T TAKE ANY OF THIS ANYMORE. 

AND I REALLY HATE THE WOMAN DOWNSTAIRS FOR PUTTING US IN THIS POSITION. I HATE HER!




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