|Willow (the_willow) wrote,|
@ 2010-01-14 17:39:00
So it's the end of the business day Thursday...
And I have not had the conversation with my landlady we were supposed to have about her selling the property that contains my apartment. That was the news I got early Tuesday morning that was related to a phone-call on Sunday the 9th that I missed.
She's decided to sell.
And we were supposed to have a conversation today after some inspectors came over, about what comes next. I have plentiful questions and no answers. For example her email mentioned wanting to raise my rent, but then said the point may be moot by the time my lease auto-renews itself in July. Of course given that I get assistance for my rent (yes I do do. I need it. deal with it) it's two different sets of paperwork for possibly having to move and possibly having my rent raised. And neither of those involves whatever paperwork comes with a property switching hands and thus a landlord needing to fill out assistance forms all over again.
I don't know what she's going to do about people wanting to see the property. Her email mentioned that my unit is self contained, but did not mention what would be happening when people wanted to see the contained unit. She knows I have issues with people in my space. I know that there's reasonable hours etc but I don't know if I'm allowed to say things like 'No showings on Saturday' or ' No showings when I'm not there' etc...
I may look up more things on the internet later, but I was steeling up energy to deal with the conversation with her in the first place. Now I have to see if I'll have to do this via email.
Right now I don't know enough of anything. I don't know how long she's giving herself to sell the house. I don't know how she's going to handle the sale with a tenant. I don't know if I should consider this 6 months advance notice to find a new place. I don't know if her, being usually so empathetic and compassionate, will include not making a sale to someone I might possibly not get along with.
All I do know is that my ENTIRE 2010 is going to be taken up with dealing with this change, preparing for this change, living through this change and then recovering from this change. The plans I'd started spinning about what I wanted to accomplish in therapy, with my writing, with anything else don't really matter now, since moving/dissettlement/lack of stability in where I live is so tremendously exhausting and epic to me. And that's on top of such situations as moving being exhausting and epic to neurotypical and mentally healthy folks.
There are other things I'll be dealing with as well; like telling my mother. And then telling my sister I might be too exhausted to go to the anime convention with her in 2010 that we'd been planning since 2009's summer. I really want more information from the landlady so I know just how feasible or unfeasible holding on to those plans are.
There's nothing I can do about my mother's reaction and how exhausting and consuming of what energy and spoons I have left will be.
Currently I am upset and I only had the wherewithall to deal with this -once- and then I'd hoped to have the weekend to recover and reach a calmer, planning state of mind. Now I've got to gear up to have a conversation, perhaps over the phone, with the landlady while not being angry our conversation did NOT happen today. Last I heard from her was a check-in at 10:30am about the inspector's arrival at 11.
Re: The Entire 2010
I'm not like neurotypical, mentally unbroken people. Usually it doesn't phase me. I'm here, I'm surviving I have small moments of thriving and it feels good. But then something like this happens and I realize how many more spoons I have to dedicate to something like this; to maintaining equilibrium and monitoring my emotions and being aware of emotional pitfalls and fallacy filled thinking with possible self harm and the mental battery I'll face from my PU.
And the main thing that hits again and again is that I'm not normal. I'm not usual. I'm not average. It is not something I can take in stride. I have to be careful. I'm different. I'm fragile which is not a word I ever want to admit describes me unless it's describing me against the HULK or something.
It's not about me hating myself. It's not about me hating other people. It's about the difference that smacks me in the face. It's about disability. It's about the times when it's not invisible. When it's out there and vulnerable, this big crack patched together as skillfully as possible by years of CBTherapy. It's about fearing pity and stares and c'dear's and all the things those with visible disabilities face everyday from an uninformed public.
It's about feeling there's a difference between people being able to see someone struggling with a wheelchair, or crutches or a sling, or a speech impediment and having something make you 'softer/not as strong/ potentially weaker' in the mind. And all the weight of judgement that comes with that, until my chest hurts and I can't breathe to even glance at it.
That is what's going to take up my year - battling that with every government form to fill out and interview to have and stranger in my space or me potentially having to go look at new places. It's about how stupid I feel when everything's exhausted me so much, I feel like I can't be me anymore because I just don't have the energy.
And I've not even begun on the disappointment and the personal recrimination for trusting things would work-out and the anger I have that I've traded consistent functionality for feeling and sanity.
There's just so much and it takes a long time for things to look undisturbed again.