I have a problem that I am not 100% sure how to solve quite yet. I am working on it but it requires so much from me that I have made very little progress on this issue. The problem is, I blame myself for speaking up when something bothers me. Basically, I regret speaking up.
Let me explain. I was living in a home with family, it wasn’t ideal but my husband paid the taxes to keep the home and the other part of the family paid the utilities. We moved there to help the family out since they were afraid to lose their house due to not being able to pay the taxes with their income. We figured we made good income so why would we continue to pay rent when we can live there with PLENTY of space and just pay the taxes with the rental payments we were giving out to a landlord. The plan was great and we up rooted ourselves and moved.
It all went south from there and to make it short, I spoke out due to a racist man child that was living there. This man child was my mother in-law’s boyfriend. I told him off and I also went off on my family for all the horrible ways we were treated while there (my son got blamed for things he didn’t do, my husband was constantly the “bad guy” when the boyfriend came out of line. Basically, my family is blind to how horrible a person her boyfriend is). I gave my family a choice it was us or the boyfriend. The boyfriend ended up winning and at the time I had to move my barely 1 year old and my 5 year old out of the house with no money and just a few articles of clothing.
We ended up in a home that was months away from foreclosure and was so damaged the furnace would not heat the house nor the water. We moved in October and I admit the people we were living with (more family) weren’t that great at the time either. We were all stuck and trying so hard to get no where. I lived in that house miserably for 2 months. We were a step away from homelessness.
Fast forward and we had the opportunity to get an apartment close to the broken down house we moved to but we had no money, it had all gone to paying taxes for the year in the home we were supposed to be secure in. My husband was able to get “assistance” from his job but it wasn’t easy. They held it over his head even though the program was designed for these types of emergencies. We moved to what seemed like the perfect place. We were so happy, finally the break we needed.
We were wrong, the apartment was infested with cockroaches, my oldest son ended up hospitalized with asthma and we were so scared. On top of my husband’s job treating him like crap for needing assistance to move, he now had to spend days in the hospital with our son (he would never leave our sick kids sides no matter what). Once our son was okay, we had to make a plan. We got him tested for allergies and tried to do everything we could to get the management office to clean up, we even called their corporate office and the health department. Eventually, we had to make a tough choice, we decided that if we couldn’t get them to clean up their act we would have to move, again.
We looked and looked and found nothing. At this point some time had passed and my husband was now unemployed and I only worked 15 hours retail but drove 40 miles round trip. My income literally paid for me to get to work and back (my job was convenient to my son’s school so I never transferred). We decided that we would live in our van if we could not find an apartment. We wrote a letter to the management office and told them that we were moving due to the lack of care, and they agreed to give us our deposit back.
One day, my mother told me to see my godfather and thank the universe he was able to get me an apartment. We ended up okay because he is the superintendent of the building we now live in. They allowed us to make payments on our deposit under the condition that we both got jobs within six months to meet their income requirements. I was able to land a full-time job and even though there were trials and tribulations there too, I was quickly raised to an income that could sustain us just as well and my husband picked up night shifts that put extra spending cash in our pockets (I am currently no longer at this job reasons why maybe I’ll explain in a different post).
But here is my problem, I think back to the day I found out the boyfriend was a racist and I think if I would have just dealt with it for a while longer, we would have been fine. We wouldn’t have struggled and we wouldn’t be stuck again. I am constantly regretting making the correct decisions. I am constantly regretting not sacrificing my mind and my sanity and my values for security. Even when I mentioned in the previous post about issues with my husband, I wish I would have never seen the message that set me off, or I wish I would have never said anything and just held it in.
I know that those were never options and that my mental sanity IS SECURITY for my children and that showing them to stand for what is right are the best values I can instill in them. And even sticking up for yourself in the face of anyone that makes you feel less than you should, but still I regret all my actions. I KNOW I did all the right things, even though the consequences were less than ideal. Even though I have suffered through these decisions but on nights like these; the nights I can’t sleep, I think about what could have been if I had just kept my mouth shut, if I had just dealt with the pain.
Lots of times I feel that everything I went through I did to myself by trusting others and believing too hard in my values but my heart knows I did everything right. I am at constant battle of what if and why and most of the time I feel as if though people will never understand that.
People on the outside will always ask why I moved when I lived in such a beautiful home with my family close because they never lived in my shoes or my experience. Or why I’m arguing with my husband since he’s always been a great man (and yes he always has) but these people would never understand how I felt unless they lived in my body. It’s hard, it has been hard and it will continue to be hard but as long as I keep trying, I feel that I will make it out of this storm. That all those values and tough decisions will one day be the very strengths that put me on the path exactly where I want to be.
I just can’t help but beat myself up over it.
Is there anything you regret even though you know you made the right choices? How do you cope with the feeling of sadness over these “invalid” regrets? Please share your experiences in the comments, and thanks for reading.
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