Independence and Work

I know I’ve blogged a little about the joys of my new-found independence, but I feel the need to blog a bit more about it. 

 

It took so long for me to finally find some independence in my life. My mother, the hoarder, just basically set me up for failure in life. I don’t believe that she meant to. I really don’t think it was intentional. She just was, and still is somewhat, a very selfish person and she didn’t think about how all of her actions and the way she raised me would affect me throughout my life. 

I was never taught money management because my mother wanted to control everything. She used to take some of my money to save for me, but then she would spend it. She would tell me that that she was trying to help me save money, like a bank, but instead of actually helping me set up a bank account, she would just hold onto my money for me. Then it would be gone because she would need or want something and since she had my money, she would spend it. 

Being away from my mother and having control over my own finances has really been beneficial. I have stresses over money and affording everything, but I find that I am so much less stressed without her in my life. Now I know how much money I have and I choose where it all goes and what it’s spent on. 

Just after I blogged about getting my bike fixed and not having to ask for rides, my bike broke again. If I believed in jinxes, I would say I jinxed myself, haha. On my way to work, my bike chain fell off and wrapped around my pedal rendering my bike completely immobile. I had to call my neighbor and ask her to pick me up. I called a coworker and asked him to let my boss know what was going on and why I would be late to work. My neighbor helped me get my bike back to the repair shop and they didn’t charge me to fix it. It’s not 100% fixed now, but it will last a little while if I’m careful with it. I get paid this week, so I can take it back to really get it fixed. The men at the repair shop are great about working with people financially, so they said that they will fix it as cheaply as possible for me. The sprocket is bad, so they’re going to get me a used sprocket that’s in good condition. My bike will be just fine soon, and it’s not too bad right now. 

I have the job at the hotel and the job helping take care of the elderly woman, who I would like to call Grandma. She is 92 years old and she just amazes me. I love her so much. The truth is, she may not be around much longer. I know my heart will break when she passes, so I’m grateful every day that I get to spend with her. I’m so very glad that I have this time to get to know her and have her in my life. I was called in to work there yesterday evening just for a little while. Her daughter, Ruthann, is the one who hired me. The person who was supposed to go there yesterday couldn’t go, so she called me. She was a little bit desperate and offered to pay me for a full hour just to come for a little while and help her with a couple things. When I got there, I told her that I don’t care how much she pays me because it’s not about the money. I live right down the street from her, which I love because she call me anytime if she needs something. She paid me for a full hour anyway. 

As far as jobs go, I need the money, but I don’t believe in doing anything for the money. I work at places that make me happy. I do things that I love. Housekeepers at the hotel will work extra hard to make a room look nice because they hope to get a tip. I don’t care about the tips and I don’t count on them. It’s very, very nice when someone does leave a tip, but that is never the reason I work hard to make my rooms look nice. When someone stays at a hotel, they are on vacation. They’re relaxing and having fun. It’s my job to make them feel as comfortable as possible. Hotel rooms are kind of a home away from home for people on vacation. They’re spending extra money to be comfortable and maybe even a little pampered. I enjoy pampering people a bit. When someone comes back from their day at the beach or wherever, I love knowing that they’re coming back to their beds nicely made, towels and coffees restocked, etc. When a guest approaches me and requests something extra, I love being able to give it to them. I love knowing that I’m making their vacation just a little bit nicer. I never, ever do it in hopes that they will tip me. 

Now, when I do get tips, I put that extra money aside or I spend it on something I need. I’m very content with the combination of my paychecks, the money from working for Ruthann, and the occasional tips. I’m hoping to sell some artwork soon and have that money coming in, too. I finally feel like I can make things work on my own. I’m proud of my ability to make and save money; to have that extra for things like my bike breaking down. 

I don’t have it all together yet. I don’t have all of bills (mainly the hospital ones) paid off yet. But I’m getting it all together and I’m doing fairly well for myself. I love this independence. 

Hoarding

A Personal Thanks: 

I joined an online support group for children of hoarders some time ago. I didn’t share posts on there very often because I really hate complaining and being negative. When I did share something, though, there was always an outpouring of support from the other members. I joined the group because I was still living in one of my mother’s hoarded trailers and sometimes I just needed to know that other people out there understood what I was dealing with. When I finally moved out, I updated the group with the first good news I’d had since joining. I was thrilled to be able to report something positive, something going right in my life, improvement. When I updated the group, I decided to also share this personal blog with them. I left the link in my post, inviting anyone to come check out my blog.

I didn’t realize right away, but now I know that someone shared my blog on their own site. I’m touched that anyone would even notice, let alone share my blog like that.

Thank you, Joe Hoarder’s Son! http://www.hoardersson.com/

And thank you all who have found your way here via Joe Hoarder’s Son!

 

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A Bit About Hoarding:

As most people know by now from the increasing awareness of hoarding (many people have seen A&E’s “Hoarders” at least once), it is a mental disorder often caused by a traumatic event or loss. As most of my readers know, my mother is a hoarder. In fact, my stepfather is a hoarder, my cousin is a hoarder, my aunt was a hoarder, and I’m sure I have several other relatives who are hoarders, especially on my mother’s side of the family.

Growing up in a hoarded home was like living in a filthy prison- a physical prison and a mental/emotional prison of guilt, shame and abuse. The house was constantly messy and cluttered after my father died when I was 9, but the first time it truly resembled the worst of hoards was when I was 11 or 12 and my step-aunt had offered her old furniture and belongings that she didn’t want/need when she was moving. My mother has never been able to resist something that was free (or even cheap). Instead of choosing a couple things that she wanted, she literally took every piece of furniture and “stuff” that was unwanted.

In with the new, out with the old! Or not…

I was excited at first. I thought it was better than Christmas. We were getting all new furniture, couches, shelves, bookcases, cabinets, tables and chairs! But then we never got rid of our old stuff. Everything was just piled into our living room (where I was sleeping at the time), with barely a pathway to get through. I think I was the only one small enough to fit through the maze of stuff, actually. At first my parents were happy and excited about all the new stuff, but after a few days of not being able to use our living room or even walk through it, tensions rose and they were angry all the time.

I tried my best to stay out of the way because I couldn’t handle the anger, cursing, yelling. Our kitchen was hoarded, too, so I would slip in and out as quietly as possible to get food. Dishes piled up, trash piled up, junk mail and random papers piled up, “stuff” piled up everywhere. The house could no longer be vacuumed, swept or mopped. Counter tops and tables couldn’t be wiped down. Insects and rodents infested all the cabinets and corners. I remember picking weevils out of my cereal or pasta before eating it; brushing roaches off of dishes before using them.

In my bedroom, I slept every night with cockroaches and spiders in my bed. Those weren’t even the worst, though. The worst thing was being bitten constantly by fleas. Right now I have several cats, but I have always kept fleas away from them, myself and my home. I will never forget the hours I spent lying in bed trying to fall asleep but being kept up by the constant itching and pain from the fleas biting me. They covered my legs, crawled through my clothes, nested in my hair as if I were a stray animal. Whenever I asked my mother about the fleas or complained about them, she said it was normal and this was the price we paid for living in the country and owning pets. She said if I didn’t want the fleas I had to get rid of all my pets. I never knew then that she was wrong, that people actually had pets and did not have fleas. I didn’t know until I was much older and my pets were fully my responsibility.

Hoarders tend to refuse to take responsibility for what’s going on in their lives. They will redirect blame to anywhere or anyone else, and often it is the children who end up taking the blame.

I didn’t wash dishes enough. I watched too much TV. I was lazy. I left my stuff everywhere, never cleaned up after myself. I didn’t do my chores. I stressed her out too much for her to get anything done. I was in the way, distracting her. I forgot to close a bag of chips or I spilled crumbs and that attracted roaches and ants.

Even though I was a kid, it was never my mother’s responsibility to clean up after me or to teach me how to clean up after myself. I didn’t know how to do anything properly. The reality is, you cannot teach a child how to clean when they’re living in a hoard. You teach a child not how to fix a disaster, but rather how to keep an already tidy home tidy. You teach them how to clean up messes that occur, not how to attempt to vacuum around 500 pieces of junk that they aren’t allowed to move.

I learned how to hide things- how to cram things into places and cover things with sheets so no one could tell what they were. I was never able to clean my room, so I was constantly punished and degraded for it being a mess. I had a friend visit once. My mother had told me to clean my room, and I honestly tried, but I couldn’t do it. So, when my friend came over, I wasn’t allowed to have her in my room. I was okay with that because I was embarrassed by the mess. However, I wanted to show my friend my new fish, so I left her waiting in the hallway as I slipped into my room and retrieved the fish bowls. When I came out, there was my mother. She had this look of horror, rage and disgust on her face. She screamed something at me, I don’t remember what, and slapped me hard across the face right there in front of my friend. I nearly dropped the fish bowls. I had no clue what I’d done wrong, and I still don’t know. She had just appeared, screamed, slapped me, and disappeared again, leaving me in tears and ashamed.

I had that same friend spend the night once. We had to keep moving from room to room because the cockroaches and fleas scared and disgusted her. She never came back.

My parents got sick of the hoard and they bought a new trailer. They moved into the new trailer on a different piece of property down the street and I and my brother stayed in the old one. We were both teenagers by that point. I had just turned 14 and I was going to go to public school for the first time in my life. I had been homeschooled up to that point, but actual schooling never really happened after my father died, so I chose to go to public school with my brother. I’ve always loved learning, but my mother had turned into a monster and she couldn’t teach us anymore. A kid can’t learn amongst piles of junk and with an angry, impatient, screaming teacher.

Hoarders seem to love bargains and anything free, so they tend to go to thrift stores a lot and even dumpster dive. My mother was the queen of the dumpster dive, and certainly the queen of the thrift store. It would have been fine that I got all of my clothes from thrift stores, except that none of them ever fit. I got in trouble at school constantly for wearing clothes that didn’t fit. Most of my shirts were too small, because too big would have been even worse, and my jeans were all different sizes except what I actually needed.

Looking back, I can only imagine how bad I must have smelled. It didn’t register at the time, but my brother and I didn’t even have trash cans or trash bags. My cousin was living with us and she was an adult, but she was (and still is) completely crazy. I don’t know what’s wrong with her, but she has always had something wrong with her. She is like a little child with adult responsibilities. She never cleaned anything, and she’s always been a hoarder. She just barely holds a job at Wal-Mart. They can’t fire her for being mental. Needless to say, there was no “real” adult in the home. It was her, me, my brother, and an infant. Wal-Mart gives people some crazy hours to work, so I was constantly woken up at odd hours of the night when I had school in the morning. I never got enough sleep between the fleas biting me and the odd hours that I was always woken up at.

I don’t know how I even got ready for school every day in all the mess and filth. Sadly, it was cleaner than it had been when my mother was living there, but it was still bad. Since there was a baby living there, there were always dirty diapers piled around. The “adult” in the home left food smeared, splattered and just laying anywhere. I remember an open jug of Sunny Delight sitting in the fridge for months with barely a serving left in it. My brother and I never had help with our homework, never had someone there to share meals with us or see us off to school in the morning. My mother tried to get us to go down to her place for dinner sometimes, but I hated it. She was always angry and frustrated, and she had hoarded her new place quickly.

The damages done to children of hoarders can last years, or for life. Children need love, patience, attention, structure, order, and guidance. Children of hoarders don’t often get those things. In one of my recent posts on here I wrote about my little cousin “J.” She was the baby I was living with as a teen. From what I wrote about her, you can see the emotional damage incurred largely by her mother’s hoarding. Clearly her mother has other issues, too, but it’s the hoarding that is the biggest issue for poor J. Hoarding breeds other issues- anger, resentment, lack of structure and order, neglect, guilt, and all sorts of emotional abuses.

Hoarding can cause anxiety, OCD, depression, personality disorders, and more in children raised in those conditions.

It’s so much more than just a messy home. It is abuse and neglect, isolation and imprisonment.

Update

New Home and the Old Trailer:

After nothing working out with multiple apartments, houses and even mobile homes over the span of six months, my friend (April) and I have finally found a home! It is a duplex with a couple and three young boys in the other half. It’s very large with two spacious bedrooms, one bathroom, a cute little kitchen, a lovely living room, and a foyer. 

April and I have both grown up in unpleasant conditions and we’ve never had a “nice” place that could truly be our own. Every place I’ve lived in has been hoarded and frankly deplorable. Because I’ve always lived in small, cluttered spaces, I get very anxious and uncomfortable if I don’t have enough space. My preference for large, open spaces isn’t a selfish or greedy one, but rather a larger scale of someone disliking turtleneck shirts because they feel like they’re being choked. I feel suffocated in smaller rooms. I’m not exactly claustrophobic, though. It’s a bit different from that. 

April is such a wonderful friend. In every place we looked at, she said she would take the smaller bedroom. When we looked at the house we have now, April wanted the bigger room. Both bedrooms are spacious, but one is larger than the other. I knew she wanted the bigger one because she likes a lot of light coming in her room and that one had two windows. The larger room was perfect for working on my art, though. There was enough space for me to set up my art supplies by one of the windows, and without crowding the rest of my space. I wouldn’t be able to do that in the smaller room. April got so excited when she realized that, and immediately said that I could have the bigger room because it was perfect for me. I know she wanted it, and yet she not only took the smaller one, but she was also thrilled for me and how perfect it was for me. She didn’t make me feel bad like others have in the past, and she shared in my excitement. She is completely selfless and I am so very blessed to have her as a friend. 

We went shopping for some furniture afterwards and I got the chance to repay her. Neither of us have ever really had a nice bed of our own. My beds have mostly been mattresses on the floor. I’ve always wanted a bed with a frame and posts. They look so pretty in people’s rooms. I found a gorgeous king size bed with a frame and posts at the store we were at. I couldn’t find a price tag, so I ran up front to ask about it. That’s where I found April. She had also just inquired about the bed. There was only one. I asked if she wanted it. She was wide-eyed. She said “Well, yes, of course I want it. It’s beautiful. Do you want it, too?” I replied “Well, I was interested, but…” She immediately cut me off and got all excited again, telling me that I should get it. There she was being completely selfless again. This time I insisted she get what she wants. I told her that there were plenty of other beds that I could choose from, and I was happy to do so. April got so excited, she even teared up a little. She wouldn’t stop thanking me and saying it was a huge sacrifice on my part, so I reminded her of her huge sacrifice with the bedrooms. She said we are more than even. I don’t feel like the bed was a big sacrifice for me, especially when I got to see how happy it made her, but I’m so glad that we are both satisfied and happy. The bed is perfect for her. She has been suffering some back pain from uncomfortable mattresses. She needs one that is good for her back, and the nice frame is just something she deserves. I don’t need any special mattress because my morning yoga helps me even if I do wake up with some pain. I can sleep on basically any type of mattress, but April truly needed a good one. 

I can’t believe how well April and I work together in every situation. I’ve never had a friend who compromised “with” me before. Friends and roommates in the past have always made me do all of the compromising. April and I have similar taste in decor, and when we find something that we disagree on, we both compromise equally. It is such a relief to me, and so refreshing. 

Our new place needs to be painted. The landlady was going to paint it, but we offered because we enjoy painting and we want to move in as soon as possible. Ever since I moved into the dilapidated trailer that I mentioned in the “My Story” posts, I have been dying to paint and decorate! I’ve never been in a place where I’m allowed to, so now I’ll have the chance! It’s so wonderful that April is also excited about painting and will enjoy it. We agree on all the colors for each room, and we even picked out a couple of art pieces from a store that we’re going to hang in the living room. I have a sort of modern/abstract taste in art that not many people like, but April does! 

My bedroom is going to be a pale baby blue. I love light colors, white or nearly white. Blue is a very peaceful color to me, so a very pale blue is going to be perfect. I can’t wait to get started! I don’t know what color April is going to paint her room yet. We’re going to paint the living room either white or beige, as well as the bathroom. The kitchen will be white. 

I’ve never had a foyer before. It probably seems silly to most people, but it’s just so nice to me that our home has a foyer. It’s a good size, too. It’s not a hallway, it’s actually a foyer. I’m ridiculously excited to decorate it and set up a table with a lamp and a place for our keys, a shoe rack and a welcome mat by the door. We also have a large screened in porch where can enjoy the fresh air without bugs flying around or biting us. Plus, I’m a smoker and I have never been the type to smoke indoors, so the porch is nice place to sit and have cigarette. Although, I am trying to quit! 

 

Now that I actually have a nice place to live, I feel more comfortable admitting that I was still living in the dilapidated trailer with all of the broken things. Everything was falling apart even quicker and I was really scared that I wouldn’t move out in time. My bathroom sink fell out of the counter. The ceiling in the bathroom was falling in. The outside wall of bathroom was falling out. The cold showers were taking their toll, even in the summer heat. My bedroom ceiling was leaking. The kitchen wall was falling out, and the sink in there was completely useless. I was washing dishes in the bathtub. 

It was pretty scary during all the rain and storms. There were overgrown trees hanging right over my bedroom and I was afraid they would break and fall through the roof. That didn’t happen, though, thankfully. One tree fell, but it was on the other side of the trailer where I never went, so it was okay. 

My bedroom in the trailer was clean, but every other part of the place was hoarded and barely usable. I’d been living out of a single room for over three years. As time goes on in the new place, I’m sure I will begin to get over my need for large, open spaces. After all, I won’t be living in my bedroom anymore. I’ll be able and allowed to use the rest of the house. I know I’ll spend a lot of time in my room, though, because I’ll be working on my art constantly, but I’ll still have a living room with a couch to relax in. 

I look around the hoarded trailer, trash-filled yard and place, and I feel nothing but shame and disgust, even though I know rationally it’s not my fault and I didn’t create the conditions. My new place is something I and April will feel proud of. For the first time in both of our lives, we’re going to be able to host parties. We’ve been planning since the beginning of the year to host Thanksgiving in our new place! We’re now also planning a birthday party for a friend who has been incredibly helpful and generous in all of our moving plans. Her name is DeAnna. She is letting us use her van to move our things and to transport my cats. We have a truck to move furniture, but we can’t put cats in the bed of a truck. DeAnna has also treated us to lunches and dinners out when we’ve made trips to St. Augustine (the town we’re moving to) in our searches for a home. And she gave me and April gift cards to various restaurants and extra spending money for my birthday in June. DeAnna calls me and April her surrogate daughters because she never had children of her own. She has given us useful and decorative gifts for our new place. DeAnna is definitely like family to me, so I am beyond excited to be able to host a birthday party for her! It’s going to be a surprise. Her birthday is in December, so I’m going to tell her it’s a Christmas party, then she’ll arrive and we’ll have the whole place decorated with balloons and birthday banners, cake and ice cream, gifts and games, and all of her friends will be there. 

In the old trailer, I couldn’t even invite people over for a visit. April would visit and she was always really nice about the conditions. She would remind me that it wasn’t my fault and she would act like it was no big deal when I would apologize for subjecting her to it. It was okay once we were inside my room (as long as it wasn’t raining, haha), but the yard and every other part of the place was awful and embarrassing. Having a nice place and being able to host parties and invite people over is just such an incredible blessing to me. I imagine that normal people probably don’t think much about the fact that they can have friends over whenever they want. Growing up in a hoard, though, hosting an event or inviting someone over was always embarrassing and stressful. It won’t be stressful now. April and I are equally neat and clean people who can’t stand clutter, so we both know that our place is always going to be clean enough for someone to drop by unannounced and not cause us stress. Unannounced visitors dropping by a hoarder’s home causes a tsunami of stress and emotions to pour in. I am NOT a hoarder, at all, but my mother is and other people I’ve lived with were. 

 

My Mother:

My mother and I have had a seriously rocky relationship. As you may know from reading my past posts, she was abusive for the majority of my life, and her hoarding has impacted my life greatly. However, we are now finally beginning to repair our relationship. She is no longer abusive. I confronted her about the past and the current (at the time) abuses, which was necessary for me to be able to move on and try to let go. She stopped the emotional and verbal abuse that she had still been doing, and she acknowledged and apologized for the past. She will not stop her hoarding, but that’s not my problem as long as she doesn’t bring her hoard into my home. I’ve offered many times to help her clean up all of her places, but she won’t do it, so I have to just accept that she wants to live that way. 

My mother took about two years before she actually started showing that she cared and was willing to treat me respectfully and lovingly, but she is doing that now and I am very grateful. She is my mother and I will always love her. I was ready to cut her out of my life completely, never see her again, so I told her that. I think that’s what made her start changing and actually making an effort. I never really wanted to lose my mother, I just couldn’t have someone so toxic in my life. Now that she is making a genuine effort to show me that she cares and wants me in her life, I am thrilled to put in equal effort to forgive her for the past and repair/rebuild our relationship now. She is being supportive and encouraging, and she has even agreed to help me financially if I need any help until I get on my feet. In fact, she is the reason I’m able to move into this new place. Granted, the money she’s given me for it was technically supposed to be mine anyway (from my deceased father’s life insurance), but still it’s nice that she’s doing it now. 

The only issue I foresee with my mother is her visiting and over-staying her welcome. She is making so much progress, but she is generally a selfish person who takes advantage of people. She never stays home and will not get a job because she vacations constantly and stays for free with people all over the place. She shops at all of the local thrift stores and dumpster dives, then hoards whatever place she’s staying at. She cannot do this at my and April’s place. We don’t want her visiting every week and staying for extended periods of time. We want to live on our own, not with my mother. We also don’t want someone coming in a cluttering up our home. My mother can’t even spend one day out without cluttering up the vehicle she’s using. She can’t spend one night at a hotel without hoarding out the place.

This could become an issue with her visiting. I’ve told her that she can visit, that I want her to and I want to spend time with her, but she seems to have taken it as an open invitation for a free place to vacation whenever she pleases. She has been raving about all the vacations she can take to our place and all the things she can do, all the thrift stores she can shop at. April and I don’t know how (or if) we can put a stop to this since my mother will be helping me out financially in the beginning. She technically owes me a lot more money from what she spent of my inheritance than just what she’s given me for the move, but I don’t want to fight with her anymore or guilt her about spending my money in the past. Does anyone have any advice on this matter? I’d love some perspective and suggestions. I want a fresh start with her and to rebuild a relationship with her. In the past I have received gifts from her and just returned them to the store for cash so I can get food or necessities, but I can’t do that with gifts from thrift stores. I wish she would spend money on things that I actually need instead of buying me a bunch of “stuff.” The amount of money she spends on gifts for me could sustain me with food and such for quite a while. I will definitely be making enough money at my job to pay all the bills and take care of my cats, but there may be a couple little things that I fall short on until I build up to working more hours. That’s where my mother said she would help. 

 

My Cats: 

My lovely little kitties are going to be ecstatic when they see the new place! They won’t be confined to a single bedroom anymore. They will be allowed to roam through the whole house. They’ll have a cat tree, scratching posts, window sills to sleep on in the sun, and a bunch of toys to keep them happy and active. I’m getting nail caps for them in the beginning just to make sure that they don’t try to scratch anything other than their scratching posts. I don’t think they’ll need the nail caps forever, though. 

I’ve always been very diligent about maintaining the cats’ litter pans, so my place has never smelled like litter. I’ve always had to have the litter pans in my bedroom, though, and I don’t like that at all. Now I’ll be able to place them somewhere else in the house. Who wants a litter pan next to their bed anyway? Haha. April and I agreed that the litter pans can go in this one back closet that’s tucked deep in the wall and out of the way. It’s a perfect place because no matter where they go in the house our guests won’t have to see litter pans. 

Now that I have so much space, I’ll be able to properly separate the cats for feeding time. One cat has to have a prescription formula, and another is on steroids which go in his food. 

They also have plenty of space to exercise! One of cats is quite overweight, so I’ll be exercising him often (I have a lot of dangling toys to get him moving and playing). 

 

My Job: 

I haven’t worked in several years, so I’m lacking a sufficient work history that employers always look for. I’m also not formally educated (I only have a GED), so that doesn’t help either. I was very fortunate to get a job through a friend of a friend. People are right when they say it’s about who you know, I guess. I feel a little guilty because the place wasn’t even hiring anyone, but the owner gave me the job with no questions asked. The other employees don’t seem too happy about that, unfortunately. 

The job isn’t a glamorous one, but it is honestly exactly what I wanted to do. I have severe anxiety and there isn’t much that I’m comfortable and confident doing. I know it may be hard to believe, but as far as minimum wage jobs go, I wanted to work in housekeeping at a hotel. And that’s exactly the job I got! 

I met with the owner and his brother (the manager), and they literally asked me what position I wanted and then guaranteed it to me immediately. I filled out an application and was interviewed, but it was all just a formality. They said that none of it actually mattered because I have the job no matter what. All I have to do now is call them and let them know when I’m available to start work. 

I didn’t get to choose the hours I’ll be working, but the hours they need me are again exactly what I wanted. Naturally I don’t want to be doing this my whole life, but right now in this stage of my life it is all exactly what I need/want. I can’t work certain hours because of the bipolar disorder. I wouldn’t be able to work the crazy shifts that some people do (work late one night and early the next morning). I need a steady routine in my life that does not change, and just at first, I need to start out slow with less hours because I haven’t worked in a long time and I need to adjust and make it my new routine. With this job I’m getting exactly what I need for my stability. It also helps a lot that I really like my bosses! They are so nice and they made me feel really comfortable. I wasn’t nearly as anxious as I thought I’d be. 

I can’t believe how beautifully everything has fallen into place for both me and April. She got a job transfer with the company she’s been working with for years, and she may even be getting a promotion soon! April has a car, but I don’t. I don’t want a car, either. I want to use the bus, walk or ride a bike. April’s job is located farther away, but she doesn’t mind the drive. In fact, she said she likes it. My job is located less than two miles from our new home! I got a bike and will be able to ride to work, and if the weather is bad I can take the bus! My bike is really nice, too. It’s a lovely pale yellow Panama Jack bike. I can’t wait to ride it to work every day! It will be good exercise, too. 

In addition to my job at the hotel, I will also have my artwork. I’m not sure if I will sell any of it, but I’m going to try, and if I happen to make a little extra money while doing the art that I love so much, that will be wonderful! If I can’t sell it, that’s okay, too. I’ll still enjoy it as a hobby as I always have. 

After I’m settled in and have a new routine established, I also have the opportunity to earn a little extra by baby sitting on my days off. I absolutely love children and I’ve been told that I’m very good with them, so that will be nice. Our neighbors actually have three little boys, so if they approve I’m sure April and I will get to play with the kids once in a while. Their side of the duplex doesn’t really have a yard, so April and I want to let them know that the kids are welcome to play in our big fenced in yard all they want. Children should have a nice yard to play in, I think. And if we all get along, April and I want to offer to babysit if the parents want to go out for an evening once in a while. Truth is, I’ve never had neighbors so close and I’m really excited to get to know them and hopefully form a friendship. I will enjoy spoiling the kids, too, once I have some spending money. I love doing Christmas and holidays for children.  

Oh and I actually have a job perk that I didn’t expect at all! My boss told me that I will be getting passes to various attractions in the area as an employee. That will be very nice. 

 

My Girl:

I have so much going on in my life right now it is overwhelming, in a good way! So many good things have happened, I have so many exciting new ventures, so many opportunities and so much positive change taking place. The next thing I’m looking forward to, obviously, is November when my girl visits! 

I cannot wait to have her here with me! The only thing I’m not looking forward to is having to go to work while she’s here. It will be okay, though. I’m just not going to want to spend even a moment away from her. It’s going to be hard, but I’ll still have plenty of time with her. 

I’ll be making a list of all the places I want to take her whenever April and I go out to explore the town. I will be saving as much as I can afford from August to November so I can take her out on dates. I know that she would be perfectly happy just staying at home with me, but I want to take her to a few nice places. The passes that I’ll get through my job will be nice, too, so that I can take her to all of the local attractions. 

I just can’t wait to have her here. Even just looking at my new place for the first time, I was imagining her in there with me. I’ll be able to cook for her. She doesn’t really cook, but I love cooking. I’ll be able to curl up on the couch in the living room with her to watch a movie. We might even be able to go bike riding together (we’ll have to get her a bike, though). 

 

Blog: 

I don’t know how it happened, but apparently one of my posts (“My Story, Part Eight- Nelson’s Lessons) was featured on a site about bipolar disorder. I was quite surprised to find my post on the site, and really curious as to how it got there. It’s nice, though, I think. I wasn’t sure I’d actually written anything useful or helpful, but it’s great if I did. The site is bipolar.alltop.com  

I won’t have internet access at my new place for a little while, but April and I are working on getting it. I love this blog and all the people I’ve met on here, so I’m sure I’ll spend some time at the coffee shop across the street after work once in a while to use the internet. If I’m slacking at all, though, it’s because I don’t have internet at my new place yet. No worries, I will be around!

 

If you’ve actually read this entire post, thank you! It’s quite a lengthy update on my life.

Thanks so much for reading!

My Story, Part Five- Finding and Losing Hope

My mother didn’t exactly have room for me. She was a hoarder, remember. Since I would not tell her why I needed her to come get me, she almost didn’t come. I insisted that I didn’t care where I lived as long as I had my pets, didn’t care what conditions I was living in, because whatever she had would be better than the situation I was in down south. 

She wouldn’t let me live with her, or maybe she couldn’t (the place was dreadfully hoarded), but she had a second trailer. I knew the second trailer was in poor condition and completely trashed/hoarded, but I insisted I could make it work. I could make anything work to get out of that situation. 

Arriving at the trailer wasn’t too terribly shocking. I basically knew what I was in for (or so I thought). I was thrilled to be out of the situation down south and I was simply tickled with optimism. I spent the first week there getting up at sunrise and working all day to clean the living room. There were 3 bedrooms in the place. Two were hoarded and falling apart and the third was hoarded with someone’s stuff who was supposed to eventually return to collect it. The third bedroom will be the only one I refer to because the other two were completely unlivable. 

There was so much work to be done in the living room, but I was incredibly determined. This is how “bipolars” tend to work: Low depression followed by fantastical joy. I’d gotten away from the drugs, the men, the fake friendships, the new hell I’d found trying to escape the last one, so I was high on all of that. Fantastical joy and optimism only lasts just so long. I had thought this time was different and maybe it wasn’t a “bipolar high.” The living room was so bad that I’d had to scrub animal feces off the floor. Have you ever seen the show “Hoarders”? Just think of the worst houses. But I got it clean! Not just clean- it was nice. I decorated the room, put my art up on the walls, secured a door and patched all the holes. My cats were happy and my “room” looked so nice that I was thrilled to invite people over. 

Then came the rain…. literally. It rained for days on end. I discovered that the ceiling in the living room leaked. It didn’t leak just a little bit, it leaked like an open sunroof. The rain poured in and eventually forced me and my pets out. The electrical outlets were smoking and sparking.  

With the destructive rain came my new low. Again, this is how bipolars tend to work- up and down, sometimes over small things or nothing at all. I guess it was in part losing my new “sanctuary” and being forced into a hoarded room that I wasn’t even allowed to clean. All I wanted was one single room of the place for myself and my cats. The entire place was hoarded and virtually falling in on itself. In reality, the room I was forced in to was at least the most stable. The ceiling leaked a little and there was stuff and filth everywhere that I wasn’t allowed to touch, but it wasn’t falling down. There wasn’t anything anyone could say to me to cheer me up, though. 

 

Okay, I’m going to quickly summarize the months that followed because I never really wanted all of this to be my story… 

 

I reached out to people for friendship and support, and continued getting abused, betrayed or otherwise let down. This was a pattern in my life. I dated a sweet girl for a little while, but she was only here visiting and she had to go back to Canada (foreign relationships also a theme in my life?). I took to drinking only to avoid using drugs again. I sucked down vodka like it was my life force, day and night. I didn’t sleep, I rarely ate, I lived off of coffee and vodka. More emotional and sexual abuse, more of everyone blaming me for everything wrong in the world, more feeling worthless, more heartbreak and abandonment. 

I reached a point where I wanted to die. Truly, undeniably wanted to die. 

There was literally only one thing keeping me alive- my cats. I couldn’t abandon them and I knew if I died they would be tossed outside or something. I was in the very worst condition of my life. I couldn’t see any way out at all. I’d gone to doctors and therapists (my mother helped me in that way, at least), but nothing could snap me out of it. 

I continually asked for help and no one ever helped me, so I just decided that I wasn’t worth helping. 

Oh and one of my cats developed a medical issue that I couldn’t afford to get fixed. Actually, he apparently had the issue all his life and I just hadn’t known, which made me feel even worse. It was hard to tell with him because he’s always been a shy cat. The problem was with his teeth. He had feline stomatitis. His medical problem and my inability to fix it made things immensely worse for me. I do not believe in having an animal euthanized over the cost of a procedure. It’s not right or fair if the animal can be saved. 

I spent a long time living minute by minute. I wasn’t really living at all. I was somewhere between death and life. 

Then I got a mobile phone with internet access. That’s when I met “Nelson” online.