This house?

Oh well...as promised, the rants are just lining up waiting to hit the screen! This house...let's talk about this house shall we...well, okay...I'll talk about it! Where to begin?? Oh, I know...how 'bout with this: I hate this fucking house and everything it represents!! How's that for honest?? This month marks 7 fucking years I've spent in prison...uh oh...I mean here. I say "I", because, I'm beginning to get the feeling that like most things, I am alone in this feeling. I do feel like I've been in prison for the last seven years. I never planned, wanted, much less expected to be here more than a year or two. Oh well...seven years later, here I am...still here.

This house has been on the market 3 times over the last several years...with not even an offer. Little did weary home buyers know, but I'd have accepted "any" offer. I'm not in this to make any money. For one, with the amount we owe (both first and second mortgages) coupled with the ginormous realtor fee we'd have to pay...we will be lucky to just "break even"...which at this point is all I want. I wouldn't want any profit from this house as to me it would feel like "blood" money and I don't want it. I just want out of here. In fact, so desparate am I that I have actually entertained ideas of forclosure or "Deed in lieu of forclosure"....short sale, anything and everything short of burning it to the ground. Of course, any of the above would result in an instant black mark on our coveted credit score (gag) and/or prison time. Though, I have to admit that at this very moment, a different "prison" with 3 square meals a day, clean laundry, books galore and nobody wanting to know what the speed of light thru Jell-O is...is really starting to sound pretty good.

I don't know why this house didn't sell. We had 3 separate realtors...all coming back with the same listing price...so I feel assured that our price was within comparible prices of other neighboring homes...so why? I know this is crazy, but I feel like this house is cursed some how...that maybe all those dead animals that Rod had in here before (taxidermied of course) have somehow left some bad "hootie" behind. I don't know...I don't understand it! This is a lovely home (from all outside appearances)...it has a wonderfully open floor plan...french doors galore... real hardwood floors...a beautiful brick exterior with a professional landscape job...what's not to like anyway? I hate it though...but it has nothing to do with the french doors or the wood floors...it's all that this home represents...it's all that we gave up to have it...it's every bad thing that's happened since the day we moved in here and so much, much more. I have tried many, many times to make peace with this place...to no avail. Some of the reasons we had for moving don't even exist anymore...so what's the point (I say to myself)...why can't I just be happy here...make it a home and come to terms with this being our "home"??? IDK...but I can't. It's not that I haven't tried...but this place haunts me...it's like living in a haunted house where bad spirits torment you all the time. I hate to be here, but unfortunately...I have no where to go. I try to be gone as much as possible, but some times that just isn't feasable.

What hurts me more than having to stay in this troubling house is that I feel so alone. Though he says he cares...I really don't think Nolan does care the pain that I'm in...the pain this house has caused me/us...my desparation to get out. Why...why do I think this? Well, because...he does nothing to help me....to help us....to help us get out of here. I think he feels like if he drags his heels long enough, I'll just give up and he's off the hook. That hurts me. He claims he doesn't have the time or money to do what's necessary to fix it up enought to sell...yet, when he wanted to move here...he sure found the time and money to get our old house sold. What is that saying? When it's important to him...he springs into action...but when it's important to me...I just get "put off" or told to figure it out. Everything he says is, "you figure it out", "you get it done", etc...never we will. I can't even begin to say how deeply this is hurting me and once again, feel this house is to blame for driving a wedge between us and for creating animosity between us. I have honestly considered having this house blessed as a last ditch effort...but where does any of this leave me if my own husband doesn't care and we're not on the same page. For everything I say, he has an excuse and so we can't resolve anything. We're stagnant in the water...neither moving forward nor backwards...but just standing still.

I have never, ever felt this depressed or hopeless in a house and we've owned several over the years. I think this is part of why this place is a shambles. I try to set a course of organizing/fixing/etc...but somehow, someway it just becomes derailed. Am I sabotaging my own efforts? Or, is the house? I feel somewhat hipocritical in that I'm constantly preaching to people to "go with the flow"..."have a good attitude", etc...yet I can't seem to follow my own advice. I think part of what continually beats me down is that I just can't do this alone...I need help...I need Nolan's help...but where is it??? When he needed help at work, cause the powers that be would not provide him with it...he turned to me...and though I really didn't want to, I did (something I highly regret doing now...not because of Nolan, but other reasons). I took nearly 2 yrs of my life to jump in and learn all that stuff, create relationships with everyone...why??? Because he needed me...not because I wanted to. How could I not??? And better...how can he not help me when I need him?? And what did I get out of all this??? Other than a paycheck? Well...I learned just how disposable and replacable I am...Nice huh?

Angry?? Ummmmm...that's an understatement! I have so much anger boiling in me right now...I'm afraid of myself. I want to break things...and throw things...and destroy things. I want to tear down this house brick by fucking brick with my bare hands. I want to bend every screw and every nail that's holding it together in my hands...I want to hear every window glass shatter...is that mad enough for you? I could go on and on, but I think the picture's pretty clear.

I guess if I have to do this on my own...I will figure out a way! I mean, shit...if Scarlett O'hara could figure it out...surely I can. I'll think about it tomorrow...