Wednesday Reflections

I have a contract on my house. I will be free of it. I can move on to a new chapter.

I hate that the house became such an albatross. I bought it after my son died. It is a small kitchen house in the historic district of Charleston. It has a wall around it and can't be seen from the street. It is in the heart of the city but very private.

I moved there to escape. After my son died I wanted to be left alone. I walled myself off from the world and started renovating. The kitchen house was where the meals were cooked for the "big house." The big house burned in a fire in 1861.

I searched the title back to raw land and learned the history of the man who built the house and the son who inherited the house. The son was two time mayor of Charleston. I know where the men and their families are buried. I searched the slave censuses to find out about the slaves who once lived there too. It is likely that the slaves who cooked in the kitchen house also lived in it. I found a few names, but little else.

I ran into a lot of problems with the renovation mainly because I didn't know enough about what I was doing. I just jumped in with both feet and learned as I went. I put too much money in it and won't get it back. Taking myself out of the job market wasn't too smart either. I now have to explain my train wreck of a resume. I have done many things but I have trouble staying with any one thing.

I think a lot of my depression is fear. I am afraid I won't find a way to make a living when I go home.

I had an interview once for a job I think would be perfect for me. It was working as an attorney for a nonprofit that litigates on behalf of the disabled. In the interview, I was trying to explain why I didn't practice right out of law school. I gave a little bit of my history and then I just burst into tears. There's no crying in interviews! Oh well. Sometimes I think I will contact the agency and propose working on a volunteer basis.

My secret hope for this blog is that at the end of the year I will be working in a job I love. I will look back at this as a hard year, but one I endured. I hope that I will laugh to myself and say, "Remember how afraid you were?"

I hate the saying "everything works out." When people say that to me I want to respond, "My only child killed himself." Everything does not work out. You get through it. Hopefully, you grow stronger. I just don't think there will ever be a day when I can "see the good" in that event. I am just hoping for a little peace.

Okay, so I rambled. My sitemeter indicates that I won't be boring too many people.