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I got what I want... why am I crying?

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The above picture is an excellent portrayal of how far I’ve gotten with packing. My youngest built a box fort while my eldest played on her phone. Meanwhile, I was going in and out of the house bringing empty boxes in and taking filled boxes to the car.

I’m in a weird place today. When my husband said he wanted a divorce over a year ago, I was crushed. For months I felt lost and hopeless. I lost the home I’d lived in for nearly ten years, mine and my childrens’ lives were turned upside down, and I felt like a complete failure.

Since then I have worked so hard to improve my situation. I got a new job, I moved several times before renting the trailer I’ve been in for a year (the first place I’ve ever had on my own), I got a new job, and have worked hard to improve my credit score.

I’m happy with where my life is right now.

I decided I could have lower monthly payments (and SO much more room) if I owned instead of rented, and have worked for months to make that a reality. It’s been hard…

The Ripple Effect

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I’m going through one of the most anxiety-riddled times of my life right now. The stress of purchasing a house on my own (and constantly being terrified of something ruining the whole thing) and the stress of being poor during the holidays (and being terrified of disappointing my children on Christmas) is rippling out and making my everyday normal anxieties ten times bigger.
Anxiety is always telling me that people don’t really like me. They’re just being nice and pretending so they don’t hurt my feelings. Why would anyone like me? I’m boring, antisocial, needy, and riddled with anxiety. We call these brain weasels.Usually we can fight off brain weasels with logic, and they’re not a huge deal. But with all this additional stress and anxiety, my brain weasels have been running amok. So much so, that I decided everyone I’m closest to – friends, family, and significant others, would all be better off without me.
I honestly didn’t realize what I’d been doing. This is a brain weasel I’v…

The Stress and Anxiety of Improving Your Situation

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I live in a trailer. It’s not terrible, but it’s not all that nice, either. It looks like crap on the outside, though my fall wreath on the door helps. On the inside it’s cute – I’ve decorated with everything geeky and as much purple as I can manage without it looking like Barney threw up in the place.
The problem is, the living space is small. I have two children, and there is just no space for all their toys and clothes. My son can’t clean his room because there’s just nowhere to put everything. There isn’t even room for a dresser in his bedroom, so his clothes are in a hanging contraption in his closet, and they’re constantly falling out of it.
I separated from my husband a little over a year ago. We filed for bankruptcy two years ago, so I didn’t think home ownership would be in the cards for me anytime soon. Especially since I have zero money for a down payment, and living paycheck to paycheck means no way of saving.
But a realtor friend made it happen for me.
She got me an …

Fat and Anxious

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I was once one of those skinny bitches who thought she was fat.
I know now that body dysmorphia is real, because I was convinced I was chubby even when I was only 112 pounds. I’ve always had plenty of junk in the trunk, and when I sat down I had the smallest roll over my pants. I’m pretty sure it was all skin. My rolls now laugh at my tiny skin roll back then.
I was one of those people who could eat anything and not gain weight. But in my mid-twenties I started getting heavier. I chalked it up to aging and metabolism. My mom was a bit chubby, so I figured genetics had something to do with it as well. I tried diet, exercise, and diet pills, but nothing helped. I figured I was just doomed to be chubby.
I gained 70 pounds in a year. I married a man I didn’t really love because I figured I’m fat, this is the best I can get.
I decided I wanted babies, but after a year of trying and my periods completely stopping, I was forced to seek medical help. It was then, at 25, that I discovered …

What if I get what I want?

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Photo by Cindy Tang on Unsplash


Pictured above - the sort of house I'll probably end up with. 
My family moved around a lot throughout my childhood. We didn’t have a lot of money and always rented, and would end up having to move for various reasons. I always thought that when I grew up and got a house, it would be one that I love – not just one that I can afford.
Well, I’ve purchased two houses with significant others in my adult life, and that held true. Splitting up with those significant others and having to leave those houses was hard – especially last year when I had to leave the house I picked out and had raised children in for 8 years.
I’ve rented a trailer for the past year. It’s the first time I’ve ever lived on my own, and I love living on my own. What I don’t love is having to cram myself, two children, and all of our crap into this trailer. I’ve gotten to the point that I avoid doing housework because there’s just nowhere to put everything. My son doesn’t even have r…

Men's Mental Health

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Today we have another guest post from our friendly neighborhood guest blogger, Elijah Greenwood. Men have been taught for too long that they're weak if they show emotion or have poor mental health. This only leads to worse mental health! Men, it's okay to feel what you feel, and get help when you need it. 
Yes, I am indeed a man. And yes, I do have mental health issues. These two things are not, in fact, mutually exclusive - as most of the world seems to think they are. As a man, I am allowed to have anxiety. As a man, I am allowed to have depression. And who are you, society, to decide that my masculinity is altered by these things? Who are you to tell me that I can not possess and express my feelings and emotions? Or that I cannot possibly break down or go into a mental spiral? Who are you to decide that my gender defines my mental status?
All throughout my younger years, I was told by both society, and professionals, that I couldn’t possibly have mental health issues based o…

The Cost of Independence

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Turns out being a strong, independent woman is not all it’s cracked up to be. It’s resulted in being broke, depressed, too proud to tell anyone I need help, and too terrified of rejection to let anyone know I need someone to be with me while I cry. Not that they’d be there, because they’ve gotten used to me pushing them away.