Freedom's Just Another Word

"If you don't accept responsibility for your own actions, then you are forever chained to a position of defense." Holly Lisle, Fire In The Mist, 1992

Met with a realtor tonight to look into listing all my properties. I can't even express how angry I am at having to do this. Actually, I don't really care about two of the properties and would rather see them gone. The third, the one that houses my studio, I'd like to keep.

My husband and I are both on the mortgage for one of them, one of the ones I need to sell. Sadly, I don't think anyone will buy it, even at a reduced price. We are, or at least I am, screwed.

There is so much anger around this I don't know how I'm ever going to get past it. It is a supreme effort to even speak about this issue with anyone, especially him. I blame him for the deteriorated state of the building. I blame him for not devoting more time and energy to fixing and cleaning up the place. I blame him for not refinancing when he still had a job. I blame him for not promoting his(our) business that was supposed to be located in the space.

Months ago, heck, over a year ago, when I first started talking about the possibility of going back to school to pursue this degree, we had a long talk about this. We were also talking about having kids at that point and he actually said at one point that if I wanted to have kids, and wanted to get my doctorate than he would work while I got the degree, or play Mr. Mom if I had the better job, etc.

There were lots of promises.

The problem is that I think I mostly kept my promises. I don't know if he thinks that or not. But I definitely don't think he's kept his.

The realtor told me to get a lawyer.

Not what you want to hear, believe me. I need more stress like I need a hole in my head. Most of the time I already feel like I have a hole in my head. I laughed when he suggested that and asked if he thought I could get out of the contract on the grounds that I have a brain injury and my executive functions are impaired.

Lord knows, I wasn't thinking straight in the first nine months after the accident. I'm still not. You can't get a two year do-over just because you have brain damage, but, God, I wish I could.