Tiny-Ass Apartment

I came across a great website today whose name says it all.  It has a lot of great tips and awesome things to make use of tiny dwellings.  Go check it out.

http://www.tinyassapartment.com/

Let Me Introduce Myself….

In the About Me section I gave you a brief synopsis of me.  I am way more complex than that.  I grew up in TN with a mother, father, half sister and grandparents.  I had aunts, uncles and cousins.  All American, Right?  lol Depends on the definition.  My parents worked hard and gave us nice things.  Things weren’t perfect or peachy.  Work was very important to my mother.  She suffered and still does from OCPD.  Yes, all the symptoms of OCD and then some.

Our house looked like something from “Better Homes”.  We didn’t walk on the carpet, use our living room or piss momma off.  Walking on the carpet would send her into a tail spin of cleaning for hours.  We suffered the repercussions of “making momma mad”.  I remember seeing the movie “Mommy Dearest” as a child and thinking, “Wow, it’s not just my mom”.  The comet & coat hanger scene was part of the norm of our “Better Home”.  She was just as anal with her work as she was at home. 

At the age of 15 I began to run away from home.  I stayed at a group home the first time I ran and all other times I would stay with friends.  I was hiding secrets of my past (home life, molestation by family friend and rape by a boyfriend) and by the time I started running my heart was breaking with hurt, anger and loneliness.  Running never solved my problems.  I never found what I was looking for.

In August 1994 I met my now husband, engaged in November 1994 and married March 1995.  I was 17 and thought he had answered all of my prayers.  We had a son in 1995 and he is now 15.

Once again, I feel like I am stuck in my own private hell.  I have had 3 back surgeries, a heart attack at the age of 34 and on the verge of losing what little we have worked for.  I am stuck.  I am losing the use of my legs to peripheral neuropathy, I weigh more now than I have ever weighed,  I am a smoker.  I applied for my disability 15 months ago and have been denied twice.  I went from making $75,000 a year, working full time and being a full time professional photographer to a paper weight.  I am sure depression is a contributor to me not rehabilitating myself after my heart attack but it is also my past haunting me.

My husband is a drinker.  He loves his beer.  He just doesn’t know when to say when.  It has made me hate him.  It’s crazy because I love him as a husband and he is a great father.  He has worked so very hard to provide despite my health issues.  It runs in his blood stream. 

He becomes this other person that I do not know.  You know when to go to bed early or to avoid him at all cost.  Recently on one of his drunken arguments he call me a “Lazy Fat B!%#*”.  It cut me to the core and hurt my heart.  It was a wake up call to me that he is tired.  He is ready to move on. 

That is what has lead me to this journey of mine.  I cannot rely on anyone but myself to get me well, find my true happiness and declutter my life.  I am tired of living this way.  Don’t get me wrong, I love my things, but it is just things.  I want more out of myself and the life I have left.  I am going to plan the next year and make some huge changes that will impact myself and everyone around me.  Some may like it, some may not.  I can only worry about me.

So here I am.  I am looking to become debt free, anger free, healthy, happy, etc. I am going to buy me a piece of land with cash and build me a tiny home.  It will be mine.  No one can take it from me.  My husband has been invited on my journey and he has declined.  He knows that I am passionate about this.  The way I look at it, when one door closes another one opens.  The next door that will open for me will be away from the hustle and bustle to a tiny house.

In the picture above:This is the last time I remember being “somewhat happy”.  Before back surgery #2 and the heart attack.  My husband and I were in Las Vegas for the first time and shortly after this trip is when I had my 2nd back surgery.

Live in 3, 2, 1

I’ve lost count of the number of blogs I have created and tried to keep up with.  I think things will be different this time since I am on a life journey.  I am tired of going at it alone so I am inviting you to come along.  I will introduce myself and take you with me to figure out this “crazy journey of mine”.