The last three months. Hell on Earth. These phrases are interchangeable.
I worked myself into a massive setback with anxiety this summer. Far too many hours went into the house project to keep up with progress in other areas. Just when I thought it was winding down, I discovered water had done more damage under the house last winter than I realized. I then spent up to 20 hours a day for several weeks moving dozens of yards of dirt twice in order to try to affect a temporary fix. I have no idea at this point whether my efforts were successful or not. I won’t know that until Spring.
I have to accept that the no vehicle lifestyle is probably permanent – unless I give up on this house. I thought it would be 7 to 10 years. But no. The roof I had replaced 8 years ago is on the verge of going bad because I didn’t have enough money to properly insulate the attic at the time. The septic system shows alarming evidence of deterioration and will probably need to be replaced soon. I am beginning to doubt I will ever catch up and get the place into a “stable” maintenance mode.
I’m struggling to adapt. No more hiking. No more camping. No more going anywhere, for the most part. It was easy to give up those things for a few years, but permanently? That is another matter. I really don’t know who I am this way.
That coupled with the fact I’m nearing 50 and have essentially had no life has brought on major depression. Transportation issues have completely killed working with a counsellor out of town. There is one starting a practice in the small town where I live soon. I will try there and see if I can get some help working through some of these issues.
I probably won’t write much as long as I’m this depressed.