I know I'm not much of a blogger, and I know I've said I would change that. I haven't. Does that really matter?
There are a lot of things that I would rather be doing besides sitting at a computer all day. I usually blog to write down my stressors, my feelings on some things, or even if I'm just bored. Lately, there's been a lot of stupid stuff going on, and I feel it's time for me to jot it all down and get it off my chest since there isn't anyone around here who can help me.
First off, while I was pregnant with my son, the world suddenly started to fall apart. We were living in a one-bedroom apartment less than 600 sq.ft. with me, Husband, Daughter and soon, Son. We asked to upgrade but were told that we'd be okay. September 2013 rolls around, my son is six months old and our lease is up. We don't have anywhere to go. Husband transfers jobs up to North Texas where we've been trying to get for awhile. Perfect! .. Kinda.
We don't have anywhere to go for the time being, but planned on having one really soon, so we moved in with in-laws. That gave Daughter someone to play with continuously and gave me something to do throughout the day. What I didn't know at the time was that we would end up being there for almost three months.
There were constantly people I didn't know coming in and out of that house at random hours of every day. There was drinking, drugs, drama, fighting....
Too often I felt unsafe there. We had nowhere to go, so what was I supposed to do? Does it really matter?
Day in and day out I'm searching for apartments while Husband drives an hour everyday to and from work. Since we were no longer paying rent, we could help them with groceries and cleaning and stuff like that. At one point, there were 15 people staying at that house. Out of everyone, Husband and I were the only ones helping to pitch in. Then the Brother-In-Law had the nerve to ask for another $100/Month to help with the light bill. Didn't say one word to everyone else staying there.
I was constantly feeling left out of things. Constantly felt like they didn't want us there. So I tried my hardest to get out. I sincerely felt like that uncool kid that sits down at the lunch table at school, and everyone else around him stands up. I thought I would never get out of there.
Finally, it starts to look up. We find a nice apartment. We get everything we need paid for. Now the problem is getting the rental history from the last apartment.
The new apartments couldn't approve us to move in because we owe the last apartment $1,000 some-odd dollars for unpaid rent, carpet cleaning (AND) replacement, changing the locks (Which I thought was state law that they were required to do so anyway) and "damages."
Whatever. So we couldn't get the new apartment. Does that really matter?
At this point, Husband and I have tried for a Home Loan twice. Been denied both times. We have two kids, one car, Husband has the only (read, reliable) job and we're, by definition, homeless.
I NEVER thought I would be in that position. But here, we were!
About a month goes by (It's December now) and Husband takes off a week from work so that we can go to South Carolina for his younger brothers' Graduation from Basic Training. We rented a car for the trip. More space, more fuel efficiency, more reliable. (Keep in mind, the only car we have is a 1995 Saturn.) While we are gone, we kept our car at the Brother-In-Law's house to keep it 'safe.'
Yeah, well a lot of fat good that did. In the week of our absence, it was hit. Twice. In the same spot. Someone backed into it. Twice.
Somebody there knows who did it, and nobody is 'fessing up.
Husband and I didn't even have car insurance up until the first of December. We didn't file a claim, because, seriously, with our luck, Does it really matter?
We came back to a busted up car, the In-Laws telling us we need to get out, no house, no money, and almost nothing to our name.
Well, then some good news!
I get an email about an apartment that says we've been approved. We are good to go once we get Renter's Insurance and get the power turned on. Cool. So we hop our butts to it and get the power and the renter's insurance, and the first month's rent! Almost $1,200 but hey, a bigger apartment! Our own space!
Oh, and if you're wondering where all of our stuff was being kept, the answer is in a trailer in the driveway and a storage unit.
We get the apartment, and slept on the floor the first night. We didn't have the resources to go get our stuff. The next day, however, we borrowed BIL's truck to get the trailer. We ran to storage to shove some last minute things in there, and went to the apartment to unpack. Yippee!
There is still stuff in our storage unit. Kinda.
Well, we found out while moving in that while we were packing stuff up to go to this trip to South Carolina, our storage unit got broken into. Husband's drill stuff for the army got stolen. Every last bit of it. Over $3,000 worth. Guess who's going to be responsible for that when he gets out! My playstation got stolen. I'm sure other things have been stolen, but seriously, does it really matter?
According to my husband's records in the Army, he still is not married and doesn't have two kids. Every time he takes the paperwork and the information up there, his unit "loses it" or it doesn't get 'filed correctly.'
At this point, it's been almost four years since we got married. I'm not expecting them to fix it anymore.
I'm not expecting my life to go easy anymore.
Once I think it's looking up, something bad happens again. But you know what? My husband and I have stuck by each other the whole time.
We have been through a deployment that he watched his daughter grow up online together, we have been through our car getting broken into in south Texas, we have been through multiple fights, almost evictions, being homeless, our car getting slammed into, being broke and being broken, not having enough food for ourselves but enough to feed our kids, no money for gas, borrowing from so many people it is INSANE.
We have been through so much together in the four short years we have been together, but does ANY of that really matter?
He has seen me broken down to a point that nobody else has ever seen. I have seen him at his most vulnerable moments that nobody else gets to see. After everything, what is it that we could possible have left?
We still have love. We still have our children. We still have hope. We still have our dreams. We still have each other. What else matters?