Off and on for years, I've written about some of my exploits, some of my struggles, my desires for a husband and kids, my love for all things Southern. It's a lot. I felt like I had to grow up really fast on my way to college, and through those years. I always assumed, like most Southern girls who want to get married and have kids, I would meet my husband in college and we'd get engaged by graduation, and married within a year or so, depending on when the engagement took place and what our grad school plans were, and the rest would be history.
Well, obviously, that's not what happened for me. I'm okay with it. Sure, I'd like to be able to have all that extra time to be madly in love and make more babies, but it's not what God's plan for me was.
When I got The Boyfriend at the end of my college years, I just assumed we'd break up quickly or get married. The longer we were together, the more I (and many others) felt we should be getting married. And then he broke up with me. Because I "should be getting married and having babies." At that moment, all I wanted was him. Forget the marriage and babies. I just wanted my boyfriend back.
Way too soon after, my health problems started. I was in grad school. I had a broken heart. I was volunteering like crazy. And I was freaking out because my life wasn't going according to the plan I thought it would. My left brained personality had no clue how to process, function, experience all this right brained life I was experiencing.
The decision to drop out of my grad school program did not come lightly. I attempted starting another one, but that was too much for me with my health problems. I got my boyfriend back. I was searching for answers to my health woes, and I completely believed I would get answers. (Because, well, how in the world could someone feel so bad for so long? Um, as it turns out, it happens all the time to many people. It just isn't talked about because people can't wrap their heads around it.) I was working three jobs, and I was able to get my first house.
By the end of the first year of owning the house, my boyfriend and I were living together, with our many cats and a rabbit, and I was living the almost dream. I did the laundry, the grocery shopping, paid the bills, worked my flexible job, took the animals to the vet, and nursed my fatigue and nausea in between. Some days were terrible, some were splendid. But I still found myself dreaming for more.
Then my grandfather died.
Those three weeks he was in the hospital, watching him go downhill and not seeing the doctors do anything (while they remained positive or unconcerned about his declining health), and then losing my grandfather, my Papa, wow ... I just couldn't handle it. I realized I had to start making some changes in my life if I wanted to have anyone left to celebrate it with. I also realized that I was following a path I thought I should take, instead of following my heart.
My boyfriend wasn't down with getting married. He had always been upfront about it with me, but there would be times he would say things that made my young, naive heart and mind think, "If I just give it some time, he'll come around." Some of his family and friends said the same thing, so that didn't exactly help my judgment.
And then I had my gall bladder removed. And then things started spiraling.
I moved to Auburn. I had this grand plan to downsize my possessions and move into this tiny condo. My mother talked me out of it. I kept the tiny condo and bought more stuff. Before I knew it, I had at least double of everything. One for Auburn, one for Birmingham. My boyfriend and I were off and on. (And we finally, finally broke up.) My health problems were multiplying. It was getting nuts. I needed an outlet, and I found it in Widespread Panic concerts, especially ones I had to travel for.
I also decided to start a home-based arts and crafts business. Between travelling between Auburn and Birmingham all the time, and not having much room to start the business in either place, I realized I had to make some changes.
My grandmothers were both in declining health, and I felt like I was needing to be back in Birmingham a lot. I also had more room (but not enough) there to launch the business. So, I made the hard decision to come back, and (until the past couple months) I completely regretted it. And then I made the decision to rent my house in Birmingham and buy another house in Birmingham. (I had good logic on that decision - good neighborhood, good floorplan, good schools, big enough so I would never have to move again, etc.)
Buying that house should never have happened. I spent way more money than I should have on contractors and handymen. The work dragged on for months. Something that seriously, realistically should have been done in three months took over six before I finally gave up and got the workers out of my house and tabled the updates and repairs. I spent way too much money because I didn't have the room and time to sort through boxes of stored items I just bought more stuff. Absolutely out of control.
In the past year, I immersed myself in launching my business, which evolved into a boutique and gift shop and got my house livable, but not finished. Both my grandmothers died within just over a year of each other, one of them before she could even see the house I bought. Both before they could take advantage of the house I bought that I was making changes to in anticipation of them being there more, and making modifications so they could be there easier.
But every time I see where the house isn't what I want. Every time I can't fit something somewhere just so. Every time I can't decide how to finish a project. Every time a light bulb blows or something breaks. Every time something isn't right with that house, I am reminded I should not have bought it.
Now that things are beginning to settle down, I realize the hectic life was distracting me from the real problems. I bought into the idea that I needed more, instead of staying focused on the original goal, which was to downsize and breathe some fresh air. I kept buying shit to distract me from what wasn't right with my life and to cover up my previous impulsive choices. I kept buying stuff in anticipation of the future, when I don't know what the future holds.
