The Fallout of Divorce

So here we are, almost three years out from the official decree, three and a half from D-day when I requested, ever so harshly, that he not return to the house and I didn’t care where he slept that night. He’d been sleeping at work (wink wink) an awful lot lately, maybe he needed to sleep there again.

I tried to sell the house last spring. I’ve depleted my savings and living paycheck/support funds to paycheck/support funds in order to maintain the modest lifestyle we lead is weighing heavily. I am house poor. Of course I am…the income to pay for the house is almost 30% less than it was when we BOTH agreed to buy.

We bought this house in June of 2011. He was already (unbeknownst to me) engaged in his extramarital activities with the paramour. I’m sure at that time it was ‘just sex’…but we all know how that morphs and changes the deeper you get. I found out in August. Luckily three months of busy summer activities doesn’t really create or solidify any real memories or connections to a property. I have no family memories connected to this house to cloud the recesses of my brain.

Needless to say, I wasn’t all ‘nesting’ like with the new house after the fallout of the separation and return to full time work and drama of his new relationship and how it affected the kids and my own psyche. The house is not all ‘Pottery Barn’ fresh and decorated. It is very understated and plain. It has furniture, but no real ‘homey’ touch. It is clean enough, but a busy family with pets has lived here for three years…without showing a lot of love to the structure.

Obviously the house didn’t sell last spring.

This is the year. I agreed that I could stick it out one more year, if the burden of the remaining debt for the heat pump were taken off my shoulders. That time is now over. My finances are ravaged. My teen son is going to be driving soon, he’s going to need to work to start saving up to help pay his college bill because god knows I don’t have the availability of funds to help him pay. My vehicle is 10 years old…a new car is in order, not to mention the insurance that goes along with that purchase. I’m not putting an appropriate amount into retirement. I’m a teacher. I’ll be having to work long into my golden years in order to afford to live once the subsidies stop coming in around 2023.

The house needs to sell.

So I met with the realtor. The outlook is bleak. She has expressed that my best option right now is to short sale. That means that I really need to stop paying my mortgage and ask the bank to help me get out from under this burden. Not paying the mortgage goes against every fiber of my being as to what a RESPONSIBLE person does. But the alternative, bringing $20,000 to the table just to sell, seems so catastrophic. I don’t have $20,000. That’s less than half my gross income for one year! That would be enough to pay for two cars…we need one so my son can drive our current ‘family’ vehicle that has been paid off for five years now. I’m USUALLY an extremely responsible financial person. My credit score even after the divorce is in the high 700s. I pay my ONE credit card off each month. I try to put some in savings every time I can. Pay for extras with saved up money rather than going into debt. The only real debt I’ve had has been property (home or car) in the past 15 years. But being house poor has taken its toll.

So here I am on the brink of walking away. So much of me is relieved. I can walk away from this burden that has been holding me under. The drowning feeling has subsided its grip in some regards. I know the next several months are going to test me further and strain my mental state ever beyond the limits I have anticipated, I just hope that I can make it without breaking further.

What a disconnect from the dreams I held for my life and my future. I have little recognition of what has become of my life compared to what I envisioned as a young woman. You try to do things right. You try to direct your life in a way that is responsible and true. You try to create the results you desire.

And sometimes it just goes.

so.

off.

course.

Here’s to the new beginings that can only come from starting almost from scratch.

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