When I wrote about a month back about the attack I went through over the issue of my hair and accusations of being gay (read all about it here), I concluded by saying that I would take it one day at a time, that hopefully I would come to a place where I could begin to feel whole again, to maybe (maybe) be able to forgive those involved and put it all behind me. To me, that means being out on our own again, and having the freedom to express my personality however I so choose.
I have to admit that I thought we’d be there by now. One of the things that I found comforting in trying to take it a day at a time (which I will also readily admit is not an easy way to live) was the knowledge that I wouldn’t be doing this for long. When I wrote about this back in September, we had found us a trailer to move out on our property (one that we can actually afford), and we were in the process of getting the loan approved to get that done. The guys at the place we’re working with told us it would be 3-4 weeks from closing the loan to actually moving in, and they had also told us more than once that the sooner we got all the required paperwork in to the bank, the sooner we’d get the loan closed. We got it all together in a week, and I figured add another week, two at most, to get the loan closed, plus another month to get it all set up and installed, and come the middle of October they’d be handing us the keys and we’d be moving in. At the same time, I get my hair coloured typically about every two months, which also happens to be around the middle of October, and I figured that the next time I wanted to do something with it, I’d have the freedom to be able to.
Well, it’s now the middle of October, and we’re still waiting on the loan to close. No word whatsoever on exactly when that will be, although we’ve been reassured several times that there’s nothing left to do with regards to closing the loan except sit down and close the loan. Throw in the 3-4 weeks to get the trailer moved and set up, and it’ll probably be nigh on Thanksgiving before we get the keys. Oh, and as I mentioned, I’d really like to do something with my hair again, but I can’t for fear of having a repeat of August and being forced to shave it off completely, or something similar, just to suit the whims of another. That may seem petty, or even a foolish concern, but as I’ve written about before, our personalities come out in how we choose to appear to this crazy world, and being told I don’t have that freedom is kind of like watching a moving with no sound and no subtitles. I’m still watching the movie, but it ain’t a hell of a lot of fun.
In the last couple of weeks I’ve gone from being royally pissed at this whole mess, to just plain sad, to royally pissed, to a numb sort of just whatever, and then back again. Two weeks ago we got a call from the company that’s going to drill the well saying they would start tomorrow, and I was ecstatic until we realised that the loan hasn’t been closed yet which means that this company wouldn’t get paid until it was. When that was properly communicated, the company backed down and, as far as I know, is still waiting for the go ahead.
It’s been, in a word, exhausting. This whole process of getting a place of our own seems to have gone on a lot longer than it needs to. I honestly think that it will be quite a while before we get out of here that this part of me begins to heal, and that’s OK. The funny thing is that, despite the situation a month after that last post not looking anything like I thought it would, that healing process may have already started, albeit just a little. It almost feels like sacrilege to write that, like I’m doing a disservice to the pain and heartache I still feel even now, two months after the fact, so please don’t take this the wrong way. I am NOT trying to gloss over how I feel, or suggesting that you do the same if you find yourself in a similar boat right now. I’m just observing that I’ve had moments, precious moments, where in looking in the mirror I haven’t seen someone else’s version of me. Just for an instant, I’ve looked in the mirror and gone “I know that guy.” And I treasure those moments. It’s like someone is seeing me for who I am and affirming what they see (maybe in a future post I’ll get into how Jesus does that for each of us), and that is so good. I managed to get it up in a ponytail the other day, and it was at the same time wonderful because that was the first time in two months I’ve been able to do that and so depressing because it was such a tiny ponytail compared to what it used to be. I guess this whole thing is a combination of the good and the really shitty, and while that might seem to be a contradiction, at least it’s honest. The point is that you do start to heal, even if it’s just in tiny ways and even if still hurts like hell.