Taking my own advice

Sunday
We suddenly decide we have to get off-island. We need a break. So we hop the 8:05 AM ferry and head to Bellingham. We do some shopping. What begins as, "Let's pick up a few things we can't get on the island" turns into an entire day of shopping. I buy a sweater from TJ Maxx and Bob buys wool socks from Costco. We stock up on chicken (it's quite expensive on the island) and Pablo's dog food. Then we drive around. Bellingham is quite beautiful and very quaint from what we can see of it. The day flies by. Before we realize, it's time to head back to catch the ferry.

On our way back I say, as if a secret confession, "I don't want to go back to the island." I feel guilty as soon as I say it. But Bob quickly confirms my feeling by saying, "Me either."

But we go back. Because where else would we go?

Monday
We're both gloomy. The entire day. It can't be ignored so we sit down to talk about it. We open the flood gates and I think we're both surprised by how much pours out. Our mutual complaints and frustrations go like this:

It seems like we'll never be out of debt.
I'm always cold now. I hate the cold.
I miss civilization.
I miss our old house.
I miss our friends.
I miss our family.
I miss having money.
I'm not cut out for country life.
I feel like I'm standing still... like all forward motion is halted.
I feel lonely and isolated.
I hate how dark it is.
I hate that everything closes at 5.
I hate that this is so hard.

I cry a little. Or maybe a lot. We just look at each other in a state of despair. What the hell are we going to do? Is this a phase? It's gotta be a phase. We were fine on Friday, we both said. More than fine. Friday we were singing Christmas carols with the locals at the tree lighting ceremony and I was crying tears of happiness for such a wonderful small town holiday moment.

How did we go from that to this? From joy and gratitude to despair and longing in just a couple of days?

We resolve to just keep going. Take things day by day. We receive some advice from our loved ones along these lines:

Don't waste your time there by wanting to be somewhere else.
You'll regret it if you don't take advantage of your time there.
Tough out the winter. You'll wonder what you were so upset about by Spring.
Be grateful. At least you have a roof over your head.

And I totally agree. It seems almost ridiculous to be complaining about such a gift. A roof over our heads. A place to live where we have the time and space to create what is next. That Bob has a great job. That I have the time to write (now to find a job for me.) And that we're experiencing something we never would have experienced before in our lives. All of that is reason enough to be grateful. To take my own advice and embrace the experience.

I start thinking that maybe the reason we're so miserable this week has nothing to do with being here... but everything to do with being in debt. It so happens that we just found out that our bankruptcy was officially discharged on November 25th. We have yet to receive our Letter of Discharge, but what this means, essentially is that the IRS will begin collections on our debt. We'll be submitting an Offer in Compromise which is essentially an attempt to settle our debt for less than we owe. We have to prove financial hardship and it's a long process, but it's all we can do.

Anyway, this just brings home the reality of our debt and the fact that I'm not working. In order for us to attack our debt, I need to get a job that actually pays real money. Any money, though, would be better than none. Though we don't pay rent on the island, we still have living expenses and we're quite frankly terrified to see our electric bill next month.

So, I think, it's very possible that we're miserable because we're so far from being financially free. And that on the island there are fewer things to distract us from this reality. I say to Bob,

"Do you think it's possible that we're so unhappy this week is because we're finally being forced to deal with all of those things that we put off with other distractions?"

I mean, if we were in L.A. paying a lot in rent and struggling day by day to get by would we really be happier than being here?

I don't know. It's worth consideration. It's the "wherever you go, there you are" phenomena.

Tuesday
We wake up to a freezing cold bedroom. Damn, it's cold. We are wimps. L.A. has turned us into thin-blooded wimps. I stay in bed as long as possible before I have to get ready for my morning run.

"Uh, there's no water," Bob says from the bathroom.
"What?" I did hear him. I just... couldn't believe it, I guess. Need to hear it again.
"There's no water," he says more slowly, "the pipes froze."

Don't you just love the universe's timing? I shower at a neighbor's house after my morning run (by the way I ran in 20 degree temps... not so wimpy, I guess) and buy bottled water to use for drinking and washing of hands and brushing of teeth. We're both pretty frustrated about the pipes. We're told there's nothing that can be done until they thaw. We just have to wait.

So, I ignore it as best I can and go about the day. We decide to work in town at a cafe with indoor plumbing. While wallowing in misery, I stumble across this tumblr post from Terami Hirsch who has named my post How to Be Happy. Now. as the best article of 2009. I can't believe it. I re-read my post and realize that I need to take my own advice.

When we get home, I decide to do something that always makes me feel better - rearrange the furniture. Literally. We move our bedroom to the second floor because it's carpeted and far warmer than the first. Smart move. We love it. The change lifts our spirits and we sleep cozily. I even end up kicking the covers off at one point.

Wednesday
Still no water. Before I even get out of bed, I write my "Design Your Life" intentions for Jess Constable's blog-  Makeunder My Life. This only strengthens my resolve to "get through this." My intentions have worked for most of my life. They've carried me through some dark places. Marital despair and financial ruin. Why can't I take my own advice, I wonder? By the time I finish writing my intentions, it's clear that we will get through this. It may frankly suck right now, but we'll get through.

I did say still no water, right? I take it in stride. We're told by almost every plumber in town that we need to let the pipes thaw naturally because it's too risky to use even a heat lamp. Should take a couple of days. We agree to check into a local motel so as to have a place to shower and regroup. Nice to have indoor plumbing.

In spite of my best intentions and the running water, I have a bit of a meltdown. I'm frustrated that I've spent so much time "trying to be a writer" with no income to show for it. It's time for me to rethink my career, I tell Bob. Maybe I should be a paralegal. Or a dental hygienist. I don't know. I just want guaranteed income. I don't know what I'm doing with my life. I want to be your partner in attacking this debt. I want to stop feeling like I have no power. More despair.

Thursday
Apparently the meltdown exercised some demons because I wake up resolved. Determined. Yes, things are challenging now... but they won't always be this way. We're not alone in our response to the island, either. We're told that many people have a hard time adjusting to being here. Lots of people get depressed in the winter and everyone's first year on the island involves a lot of trips to the mainland. The need to escape.

So it's a phase, I think. We go to the local coffee shop to work. I start investigating online teaching options. I mean, I do have my Masters. I can teach. I would love to teach. And I keep writing. Grateful for the light that has seeped back into my body. I might not have it all figured out just yet, but I'm heading in the right direction. And Bob and I are clearly in this together. Talking, listening, (occasionally lashing out) but mostly (and thankfully) working it out.

Oh, and I'm doing my best to take my own advice (from my "How to be happy. Now." post):

We've learned so much along the way. The biggest triumph for me is really getting that we don't need money and stuff to make us happy. To be complete. We just need each other and a good dose of perspective. Love. And each other. Sharing our fears and hopes, connecting and rising above the morass.

By the way, the pipes are still frozen. Another night in the motel. Tonight, I think I'll go for a swim in their indoor heated pool. There's always an upside, right?

Thank you, Terami for naming my article "How to be happy. Now" best of 2009. That reminder came at the perfect moment! It served as a virtual slap in the face. In a good way. Thank you so much!

And thank you, Jessica for allowing me to share my life intentions with your readers. Writing them out really helped ground me in my commitment to always rising above any limitation.


LITTOF readers, what helps you "up" when you're feeling "down"? And do you ever struggle to take your own advice?