I do NOT do well with uncertainty. I never have. When I was a little kid, I wrote out schedules for myself with very specific details. 3:00: read Little House on the Prairie. 3:30 draw. 4:00 rest. 4:15 use the bathroom. 4:30 read dinosaur book, 4:45 play outside. You get the idea.
This probably has to do with growing up in a very chaotic family. Schedules made me feel secure. I’ve seen this over and over with my students, although they usually weren’t as obsessive as me about scheduling.
I don’t feel like I’ve had a lot of security over the last few years. I’ve had a breakup, my friends continue to get married and have kids and move away so I don’t see them as much, and I’ve had one housemate after another. But I’ve gotten to live in the same house.
I love this house. It is an old Victorian split up into four units and I have the main floor unit. It has 12-foot ceilings, a gorgeous marble fireplace (see the photo!) and a backyard.
So when my landlord told me he was selling, I was devastated. I felt like my whole world had ended. Because this was my security and my security is gone.
I really got very depressed and very distraught. I didn’t think I was going to be homeless but I thought I was going to have to live in a horrible box that I hated. I felt lonely and alone and like God had forgotten me.
I’m still a little bit in that space. I’m doing better now, and I am a little more able to see that I am not forgotten and that this might actually open up options. But it really felt like a crisis. It felt terrifying. I think i’m Still feeling the aftermath of that.