I’ve had a sporadic eye-twitch in the past week. Deadlines have loomed ever nearer and my attempts to deal with family and legalese haven’t left me in a zen state of mind. My right eye really got twitching on Monday night, and when I looked it up, I noticed stress and fatigue were the two main things.
I’m in a bizarre situation with my new house. Somehow with all the hoopla, the title for my old place got overlooked, and so has gone a month-long quest to rectify the situation. However, this is where the problems abound:
- The title would be in my dad’s name, and has to be transferred to mine ASAP.
- I can’t find the damned title, and checked every box and file cabinet that’s held dad’s paperwork. A bunch of little stuff is in there, but nothing even close to a title.
- Dad paid it off years ago, but the mortgage lien still shows up in the records. Again, I have no paperwork indicating it was paid off (dad’s habit of throwing bills and memos away is really driving me nuts).
- The original mortgage company went defunct years ago and the lien’s changed hands about three times since. The new company needs a bill of sale in addition to a lot of the info I’ve already provided to release the lien.
- The original sellers’ records for that bill of sale don’t go back that far anymore, so they can’t provide it. There’s a certificate that can be provided that has the original sale info, but the mortgage company apparently can’t use it. That’s really gonna hinder things if they won’t release the lien, which could take up to 30 days already.
- Some of this paperwork may well be with my aunt and uncle because of probate a few months ago. Unfortunately, I’ve been trying to get in touch with them and left messages at least once a week (partially to check on them, partially to get paperwork and other stuff back), but haven’t gotten a reply.
I’m not banging my head against the wall–yet–and am curbing the impulse to stress-eat and scream at the heavens. I’ve fallen into that bureaucratic black hole where the steps I need to take aren’t all clear cut and dry. I work well with checklists, but can’t quite get this quite right.
At least the company I bought the new place from is trying to really help me out. If I’m lucky, I can meet with them before the weekend and give them everything I’ve got so we can get it all resolved.
I’m an inch away from going down the road to Academy and buying a heavy bag and stand to lay waste to when I get home. That would be a great stress relief, and hurt like hell because I’m so out of shape I doubt I could last very long.
Still, it would be better than shaking in impotent helplessness and growing anger. Good thing normal schmoes can’t Hulk out. But then that depression rears its ugly head and keeps me down, doing random, unimportant things. My energy is all in my head.
That’s why I’m willing to drive down to the home seller this week and see what I can do: it would get me out of the house and doing something productive instead of going blind on the paperwork.
Driving yourself crazy really does no good. Even now I’m fighting the shakes, wanting the day to hurry up and end so I can go home and gather all the materials I need to make the appointment (whenever that comes) a fruitful one. I’m trying to breathe and fight off the eye-twitch that comes and goes over my left eye, and the headache that’s taken up residence.
Amazing how I’ve tried so hard to push myself to improve and do better, and am running to stand still because I can’t get this taken care of. I think part of this anxiety is because it was a draining morning with the therapist, waiting for the internet to work again (took an hour of waiting), and contemplating my instincts vs. what I really need to do.
She suggested that I need to get what’s mine back instead of leave it alone, that I need to stand up for myself and release the suspense, that this uncertainty is taking over and I need to get it resolved instead of writing it off as another disappointment in life.
I believe the stress of trying to avoid confrontation and conflict in the family is just as dangerous–maybe even more so–than actual confrontation. I’m doing my damnedest not to revert to “doormat,” but I’m torn between genuine concern for their well-being and the need to get this family issue resolved (yes, the same family members I’ve groused about the past few weeks). I’m so tempted to chuck it all in and give up on them, but reality dictates I need the probate paperwork back and some other items. If that damages things further, so be it, as long as I get them back.
The uncertainty of whether there’s a problem with my family, whether they have the papers anymore, or something else, has made the stress build and build. I have been driving myself crazy with the questions–the what-if’s regarding if I should just leave things be and cut ties versus fighting for what’s mine and maybe losing family.
I’m definitely losing sleep–and that’s something I need a lot more of. I can’t get comfortable and sleep well at night, and I have no real energy at all. As nice as the weather’s been, unless I’m painting my porch rails, I can’t stand being outside too long. I just can’t bring myself to do more. If I sit on my couch too long, I start dozing while sitting up.
When that happened three days in a row, I knew something needed to change.
I’m practicing some slow, deep breathing as I write this down, easing myself into a state where I can do something else. I’m about to have to be at work in a couple of hours, and I can’t do anything about my situation until I get back home tonight, anyway, so dwelling on it is ridiculous. The only thing I can do is leave an e-mail expressing my concern and asking whether I can come by and collect some things. Phone calls haven’t worked, maybe this will.
I just gotta calm down and figure how to write it. I didn’t call for a long time because I was living in my garage and wanted to give them time to get over any anger at my sudden change of heart regarding them living with me. I didn’t know what to say after that, so I thought it better to leave it alone. I must’ve left it too long.
Things are different now. Things HAVE to be different now. I’m trying to be an adult instead of a sheltered overgrown kid.
I really can’t wait for my elliptical trainer to come to my house. I’ve got miles and miles to burn off on that sucker, and a new life to begin…a healthier one.
I’d love to reignite said new life with a clean slate and everything ready to fall into place.
Helluva April Fools Day joke on the world if I actually have things go right.