Settling in, albeit reluctantly.

Now, I would completely agree with anyone who observed that since I have been living in the teeny rental house for oh, fourteen months now, that I probably ought to feel like it's my home by now.

But the truth is, I don't.

It's a small brick rancher, the smallest place I have ever lived in my life. It's half the size, or maybe even a third the size- of our old house. It has tiny rooms and, I swear, the smallest kitchen I have ever been burdened with- even my college APARTMENT had a kitchen twice this size. The barren yard and stained roof mean zero curb appeal. I can't afford to plant flowers, or paint, or put down nice rugs, or do anything that would make it feel like a home. I can barely afford the damn rent every month. Even heat and A/C are reserved for days I cannot possibly NOT turn them on.

I don't want to live here. I really, really don't. And neither do the kids.

But because Jackass threatened me, and harassed me, and refused to accept any boundaries; because he refused to pay support and drove his truck through through the yard to make a statement, and stalked me and would not go away; because he then chose to evict us the weekend before school started, from the house we liked that I could actually AFFORD, we don't have any choice.

I'm ashamed to say that I hope no one knows I live here when they drive by. Sometimes I don't bother to keep up with the housework, because really, dishes, or dust or dirty bathroom or whatever- it's still a crappy house, so what difference does it really make?

I don't ever invite anyone inside this place besides my parents (rarely) and VCB and his kids. Not even my brother and his wife- most of my friends have no idea where I live anymore. It's a huge embarrassment to me. There are things that would greatly impact my quality of life here- like some flowers outside, grass in the yard, a wreath for the door, and clean windows (they are full of bugs and- ick ick ick- yuccckkk!!! I cannot bring myself to touch them.) But being broke, and with cold weather looming, those are obviously, in no way financial priorities.

Yes, yes, I know- it beats being homeless, or living with my parents. It's better for the kids to have any home with me than be stuck with whatever tent or basement Jackass would provide. It beats foster care. I can still give them as stable and solid a routine, and as much love, with this roof over our heads as any other.

It's time for me to make this place into a home, and accept that we will be here for the foreseeable future. I need to start that transition internally, but I don't know how to find any joy in it; to accomplish it without a despairing resignation. This sense of limbo has become destructive and it's eroding my family's sense of unity, though, so it's time to embrace this as our reality and find some way to make it okay...for me, and for them.