One year later...

 It's been a year since my life was completely turned upside down. 365 days since I experienced an attack by nature in what I thought was supposed to be my safe space. 



Life has a wonderful way of putting you on the path you are meant to be on. There is no denying that - and I will die on that hill.



After much reflection and healing, it’s time to talk some truth. I will be clear - this is not to put anything out in the world that wasn’t already there. 



Healing can be messy. Healing can hurt while it is in process. Healing is not linear. Healing is not easy. 



As just about every person in my life knows, last summer was a tumultuous one. I had plans - and God said “nah, this will be better.” Or so I choose to believe. To some, this may be seen as toxic positivity. Not the point, but there will always be people who see others’ healing as toxic positivity.



 I didn’t believe it at the time, but now? 

This is where I’m supposed to be. 



I had a grand plan of buying a condo last summer, and finally owning my own place. I wanted to stand on my own two feet after a long string (we are talking almost 10 years) of cohabitating with others. A cozy condo that allowed me to have a dog I could love and spoil; a garage so I wouldn’t have to deal with snow removal. A home. I was going to move to New Hampshire long before Mike came into the picture.. but now I had even more reason to live here. So I started hunting for the perfect condo. I went to a few showings, but nothing struck me as *HOME* so I kept looking. 


Fast forward to the beginning of June when those plans (literally) came crashing down. Being in the house when the tree collided with it is a sound and feeling I never want to experience again. I pride myself on being a strong person, but in the moments that followed the crash, I unraveled. For the first time in over a year, I had an anxiety attack. What the hell was I supposed to do? Where was I going to go? Where was I going to live while repairs were done? I couldn’t just move in with friends with no end date. That’s just not how I roll. As an obsessive planner, I had no plan. Not even a pla! (If you’re a true FRIENDS fan, you’ll get that) 


For those who have not seen pictures from the incident.. here you go.



Here, you will see where the lightning struck the tree branch and just cleaned it right off the tree.

That would be the house I was living in - yep.

The branch came over the entire front of the house - the front windows on the bottom floor? That's my room. All I could see out my front windows was pieces of the porch, and this giant tree branch. Can we even call it a branch? More like half the damn tree.

I took this one as I was driving away. I have never known trauma or heartbreak like this.

Just another shot of the magnitude of the damage.





Thankfully, all three of us who lived in the house (two downstairs, one upstairs) were home at the time of the accident. I would never have been able to call my landlord and tell him there was a tree IN the house and that his room now had open sky lighting. Also, no one was hurt, and that is the biggest blessing one could ever ask for in a situation like this.



I say this every time I discuss the incident because it’s needs to be understood. There were 3 people who were displaced. Forcefully removed from the building we called home; and needed to figure out our next steps. I was not the only person affected, nor would I ever play up that I was. I am grateful that there were two other people going through this with me, but I still felt like the odd man out. 



I have no family here locally that has space I could sporadically move in to, that would allow me the ability to continue life as close to normal as possible. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t sad that my parents were 800 miles away and I couldn’t just go back home. But I have some of the most amazing people in my life who allowed me the opportunity to stay with them as long as I needed, after the first night, where I stayed in a home I was familiar with, with a kind family, who opened up their home to me as long as I needed. 



The summer was hard. I had more anxiety than I’d had in past years, I was couch surfing every 10ish days, and trying my best to keep life as normal as possible. Oh, and I had to work the entire time. Nothing I can’t handle right? 



To recap, if you’ve made it this far - last summer, I was homeless, couch surfing, working for a monster (more on that to follow), and trying to be a present friend, daughter, and girlfriend. 



I broke down in moments I was totally alone, because I didn’t know what else to do. I had to get everything out of the house I’d called home for 3 years, find a storage unit to unexpectedly fit my budget - and do it all alone. No one else was going to do it for me. I had to put my pity parties on the back burner, buck up and be an adult, and handle this shit. 


I was numb the majority of the summer if I wasn’t crying - because I just had to get through it. When the landlord told us it wouldn’t be ready anytime soon and to look for “a new home” - my heart nearly stopped. How the hell was I supposed to look for a new home under these conditions? I needed some time - so I took it.


I made a promise to myself that I would handle housing when I got back from Mike and my first official trip together. I was given a beautiful break from reality in a city I’d never been in, with a crew I am BLESSED to be a part of. I had a lot of time to think about what my next steps would be - but every time I thought about it - anxiety took over big time. I enjoyed my trip, but the sinking feeling of dread when I boarded the plane home blew. 



I was told by my insurance company I would have six weeks covered for a hotel stay. Once we got back from our trip, I moved in to my new temporary home. I worked in the living room, while trying to keep my mental health in some sort of check. The team at work seemed concerned, and often asked how I was doing and where I was living. Every update I gave was “things are okay, I’m staying ____.” I don’t share much with coworkers, as I don’t need my professional life bleeding into my personal life. Updates to friends and family were the same - all good, just trying to stay afloat. I’d just figured out how to manage remote working and couch surfing. Things were leveling out a little bit. Or so I thought.



 

At the end of July, I was blindsided professionally and ended up reporting to a, for lack of better terms, monster. He made my professional life absolute hell, which transferred into my personal life. I was anxious 24/7, working WAY too many hours, and being disrespected and degraded hourly. I was stripped of my job (even though I was told I wouldn’t be), and put on bullshit duty. I had to give up knowledge so he could twist it to get what he wanted - full control of something he had no business doing. He thought that because I’m a woman I don’t have a brain. He treats all women like that, that he works with - but as his subordinate, I got it 100x worse. I should also note that there is a history of his attitude with women, with me.



Setting boundaries is hard for me. I don’t like to disappoint people. Some in my life see it as a weakness, and try to make me feel inferior to them. I’m here to tell you that while it’s HARD, it’s well worth it. 



Once I got back to New Hampshire, I had to make a decision. I had two people I owed information to - so I had to do what was best for me. I decided I would stay in New Hampshire as I had been since the incident (minus the night I stayed in Mass). Rent (housing in general) is cheaper and more budget friendly, even though New England is one of THE most expensive areas to live in the US.



I did not make the decision lightly. I hate disappointing people, but also knew I needed to be true to me and what would make the most sense for my life. Deciding to stay in New Hampshire was what worked best for my life, so that was what I went with. 



Having to come clean and share my decision after a week away from this mess was hard. I was sick to my stomach because again, I hate letting people down. But in an effort to stay true to myself, I told my landlord that I was going to be moving. He felt awful that his downstairs tenants were displaced, but told me I was welcome to move back when things were done. He was the best landlord I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with and I miss him so very much. 



Next I had to push through my unwavering guilt and tell my roommate what I was going to do. I felt guilty for making a decision for myself because I wasn’t the only one affected here. I was honest, and shared the staying in New Hampshire news. In the moment I felt supported, understood. I hoped things would stay afloat, upbeat, positive. I had no idea what the future would hold for me, at this moment in time. I just knew I needed to find an apartment, because I didn’t want to live in the hotel any longer than I had to. 



Joke’s on me - insurance decided that instead of 6 weeks as originally discussed, I would only be allowed to stay in the hotel for 3. Talk about a complete meltdown inducing incident. I panicked - HARD. How the actual hell was I supposed to find an apartment in a shit housing market in THREE WEEKS?! Crunch time was upon me - and I was ill prepared. Oh, and I was still in a really REALLY bad place professionally - so that didn't help anything.



Mike and I had discussed moving in together after I bought a condo - but that was no longer on the table, as buying a condo last year was so far out of reach it wasn't even close to funny. Now I was stuck looking for an apartment that allowed me to work from home in a room other than the corner of my living room, as well as fit the budget. HAH! After viewing a few apartments, I was finding myself so depressed. I felt like I was at my wit's end - but if there is anything I have learned, it's to trust.



We went to church after a few showings. I could have sat there and wept - no joke. I was so close to a breakdown. Instead, I sat there and pleaded with God to help me find the right fit. The next home. THE apartment. I went to see an apartment the next morning (Mike was working), and when I say I walked in and it immediately felt like home - I am not exaggerating. Third floor, back of the building, near everything - and the CUTEST little place. The landlord immediately gave me a lease, and after a quick walk through, I was sold. I paid the deposit, sent in the paperwork, and got an email that it was mine. God is so good!



The apartment wouldn’t be ready until 3 weeks after I needed to be out of the hotel.



Again, my friends are angels on earth. The two friends I lived with before my vacation told me that it wasn't even a question - I was going to move back in with them until I could move into the apartment. I cannot thank them enough for their support through all of last summer - truly. I shared my exciting update with family, friends, my (soon to be previous) landlord, and my roommate. I couldn't wait to start the next chapter - and finally have a place where all my stuff was, in ONE location (there is still some in a storage unit.. don't love it but it's working for now).



The weeks leading up to move in were stress filled - but also exciting. A new space to call mine, a new layout, new decorations and home decor. A fresh start I so desperately needed after the summer from hell. I had to go back to the house and get out the last of my things - and that made me sad. I was glad I went alone on the *last* day to leave my key and grab whatever was left of mine - because it was a very emotional day and I didn't really want anyone to see me like that.. I managed to get through the summer without anyone seeing me cry about this!



Moving weekend came - and I had QUITE the surprise. Mom and Dad drove up to surprise me/help me move/bring me a dining room table - and had been planning since I told them I found a place. I literally have the best parents. They surprised me while I was waiting for my mattress to arrive - with Mom's homemade baked goods. BONUS!



I had mild panic, as this was the first time my parents were meeting Mike - oh and we were moving in together. Everything was fine…



When the morning of moving came, I was faced with yet another obstacle. The storage facility didn't have my UHaul reservation. As if I needed ANOTHER setback after the summer from hell. With my anger and anxiety fighting for first place, and some of the best friends and family a person could ask for in a moment of frustration, Dad talked me off the ledge. (He is so great at that)



Thank the good Lord my parents drove my dads truck up - because we were able to load ALL my furniture into the bed of his truck. Mike also got our couch and love seat, along with the rest of his stuff - and the move was complete. My dear friends Meg and Anthony helped load up their car with boxes and stuff, while Mike's best friend helped him grab furniture and stuff at his grandmother's house. The group effort to get us moved was by far the most incredible I have ever had in all my moves!



Lots of sweat and tears (mostly my tears) went into moving into this apartment. We set off fire alarms in the new building (NOT on purpose!!) but finished the day off with the best beer and pizza in town.



This part needs to be said, read, however you want to look at it: I never lied to anyone about anything in this entire trauma filled summer. I can't lie - for starters. I am a TERRIBLE liar. I also don't have the "monster" bone in me to be deceitful or manipulative. Just - not my style. When I told everyone that I found a place - I didn't lie. I DID find a place. How the rest of the logistics worked out was not public knowledge - until it was.



I have nothing to hide. I was simply keeping my life to myself and my closest circle, rather than publicly sharing everything as it happened. I was a mess for 10 weeks last year, praying I found a way to make it through the summer in one piece.



Life on this side of the summer from hell has been a lot better than last summer was. Exploring a new area, connecting with friends - things have actually worked themselves out. When I was in the thick of it, I wasn’t sure how life would iron out. And while I am still unsure of some things, being able to stand in my truth and proudly say I freaking made it after having everything thrown at me from every angle!



One of my favorite bands, Memphis May Fire, has a few lines in their newest song that goes



Nothing left to lose at rock bottom

Wounds turn to scars, yeah, I got 'em
But I've come to learn, you've gotta let it burn
If you're gonna be forged in the fire


When I go through hell, it's when I know myself
And all the lies that I believe are digging me a grave
But when I go through hell, that's where I find myself
Remade in misery


The timing of the album release could not have been better! 

 


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

And you're who, exactly?

"Why Are You The Way That You Are?" - Michael Scott