Moving Day

My moving day is right around the corner and I am so excited.  The previous tenants vacated a few days early so the property manager has graciously allowed me to begin bringing over my outdoor things and anything that can be stored in the outdoor shed while she cleans and readies the cabin. I pick up my keys and take possession tomorrow! With all the advance moving? I should be moved over and nesting before dinnertime!

Someone from a local Facebook group offered me a couch that is going to be perfect for the space. It matches the recliner I already have and she is able to help deliver it the day I move in.

Admittedly, getting the outdoor stuff cleaned up has been exhausting. Things under my RV gooseneck were mudcaked on the bottom. Trying to clean mud off to transport things, while still in a muddy, wet yard, was a challenge but I was lucky to have good help.

My freezer was filthy and rusted from being outside in the rain for two years. However, I washed it up and a friend with more muscle power than I can muster removed all the rust. It’s not quite ‘new’ looking but I’ll throw a coat of spray paint on it and it will look like much less of an eyesore!

Digging around under my RV? I discovered some tools I never knew I had. Different friends offered me tools for gardening over the years and they were just put under the RV. I have a hoe, a spade and an old school hand tiller. All heritage tools in great condition.  There is a nice size axe and a smaller hatchet for splitting firewood for my big outdoor firepit.

So many things are coming together to make this the easiest move I have ever had. Thanks to everyone who been such an encouragement to me throughout the struggle of finding a new home. Your positive energy helped light the way!

Tales Of The Travelling RV

When my RV was gifted to me? It already had a history.

Someone bought it and then had to leave it behind as ‘payment of rent owed’. The new owner rented it out to someone in need for only the cost of pad rent. When she left the situation he did the same for me. When I was alone and felt insecure? He gifted it to me so I would always have a home.

I met the couple who originally gutted it and made it the beautiful open concept it is now. They sold it to “payment owed guy” for a bargain because they had a baby and needed more space. This RV has a beautiful history of people being helped.

It’s had it’s ups n downs! I’ve struggled with it and rather than struggle anymore? I found new housing!

However, in the spirit of kindness, I posted my running down RV on the same website I found my place. I posted it ‘as is’ and was honest about it’s condition. I may have even been over-dramatic about it’s issues.

I’m so happy that someone saw it and contacted me. His sister needs a place. Her rental was sold and she will be homeless at the end of the month. He is VERY handy and rebuilt an entire wall of an RV once so my minor issues are completely within his range of helping her fix up. He told me he was delightfully surprised at it’s condition. He was super grateful.

It was gifted to me without transfer papers. I gave him the name of Mike, who gave it to me, so he could see if he could get papers. Turns out? He already knows the kind man who gave me my home. Paperwork won’t be an issue.

I gifted it to them. He promised me he would fix it up really nice for her and once she is back on her feet? They will gift it forward and let me know who it goes to.

My tiny RV, that has already seen lifetimes of kindness, is going to move on to improvement and be a home for people who need for a long time.

Welcome Home!

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This is the patio/garden area of my new home!

It’s a gorgeous little cottage in the woods. I have a nice little kitchen with an open concept to the living room. Nice size bathroom. Nice size bedroom with good closet space. Beautiful deck and patio for gardening with a gorgeous little shed for my tools.
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It’s six minutes closer to town and I can still catch a bus when I need to. The owner lives on the property in a house she built from the trees on it. She was 50 when she started her dream and this little cottage was something she had brought to the land to live in while she built. She is 82 now. The cottage is a walk down a wooded path from her giant house but I have my own driveway so guests won’t need to disturb her if I have someone over. She goes to the same aquatic class as I do at the pool. She has another lady who acts as the property manager for her and that lady is amazing as well.
This really is the perfect place. Right price, wonderful landlords and it’s like my childhood fantasy setting. I’m over the moon for the end of the month and making my way to my new home.

Fucking Waiting

I’ve been actively looking for housing. Where I live makes it a challenge (Affordable Housing) but today I did get to see a place I want.

It’s my dream place. A tiny one bedroom cottage nestled in the trees. It’s on an acreage so it is very private and quiet. Has a private driveway. It has a full kitchen and a regular size bathtub (two things on my list). There is sunny patio that has a garden storage area. The garden storage is separate from the other outside storage. It’s this cute cabinet with glass paned doors.



It’s totally in my price range. It’s CLOSER to the pool and the property owner goes to the same aquafit class I attend. She’s 82 and swears like a trucker. “I won’t take any bullshit about rent. It gets paid on time.”

The property manager let me know I was first in line. She was super grateful I brought my proof of income with me (bank statement style proof). I don’t know a lot of people local but, apparently, she knows people I know (she knows them better) who are people I gave as a reference. That was a nice thing to learn over an application, right?

It’s the ideal setting, price and landlord situation. I want this so badly. My heart will break if it doesn’t happen.

Even though it has only been a few hours? The waiting is already killing me. (ie. re-reading my rental resume, every communication I’ve had with her and everything I’ve posted that she has seen or commented on)

Fucking waiting is so hard for someone with anxiety and OCD.

White Male ‘Privilege’?

People are people. Who started anything? Many wars happened before the ones we seem to think are so important. Many countries and nations were conquered before our own country came to be. So many enslaved.
People have risen and fell throughout history. Countries and nations conquered and even wiped out.
White male privilege is gone. There is no privilege left in being a white male. At least among the ones I know.
Maybe in the richest?
But the white males I know are hard working men. They can’t find work in their trained industry because Canada isn’t hiring anyone who isn’t a visible minority.
They try to find anything, even below their trained station and they are met with companies only hiring people with visible minority.
And then they end up homeless. And because they are white males who should be able to work? They can’t get shelter. They can’t get more than $236 for rent from social assistance.
Can’t get the gov’t to help and ignored for jobs because employers favour minorities.
THAT is the plight of the white male who DOESN’T have privilege.


What does struggling look like for me?

I’m fucking couchbound. Not totally, but mostly.

It’s so hard to explain so I am going to use a random example. Metaphoric, sorta.

I wake up each day and make my coffee. I check my Facebook. I sometimes check email but email could mean a message from mom so I also sort of avoid it. However, whatever else, I make that coffee for me. It’s MY beginning.

What about when routine is interrupted? What if someone is in your space during your routine? Even though they are completely capable of making coffee, and often offer, you feel compelled to take care of your morning routine, regardless of who is present.

Because of my variety of mental health issues? All you need to do is put another human in my vicinity and MY routine now involves them.

“Do they need coffee? Am I being too loud if I wake before them? Should I just wait for them before I make coffee? Now that they are awake should I be making more because they offered to?”

How much stress is that before the first cup of the day? All brought on by a dilapidated brain.

That is just one random example. Coffee stress is not my day. But it’s a real life example of how I think. It’s how my brain configures how other people fit into my world.

Do they need my care? Can I give it? Will they still love me when I can’t? Do I need their care? Will it be given?

The emotions behind those questions affect every interaction I have.

Will my grocery clerk understand when I tell her I need to pack my own bags? (OCD) Will my friends understand why I ignore them online? (depression) Will I be able to go to the pool tomorrow or will I get there and too many people in the change room means I leave? (anxiety)

Today I skipped my counselling appointment because I couldn’t bring myself to shower or take off my PJs. I’m going to try to sleep and try again tomorrow. That means going to the pool. I want to. I really do.

But we’ll see what morning brings.



I read a lot online about my health issues, Everything from depression to digestive disorders? I read a lot of blogs from people who are overcoming.

They talk about how the illness affected them, their family and their lifestyle. They are creative in their approach about their personal issues. They not only survive but they take their time to share all of the difficulty. They overcome.

But not all of us overcome.

I read that ‘inspiration’ and struggle so hard to find it. But I don’t.

Some people read the stories and they identify with those who’ve overcome. They become inspired. Others don’t.

Some of us read those ‘overcoming’ stories and it makes us feel like even more of a failure. Some of us never feel like they could inspire anyone to change because they can’t change themselves.

Mine is not a story of overcoming. I struggle. Daily. I’m struggling now. I feel like there will never be a day I overcome.

That’s okay.

Because there are so many more people that struggle instead of overcome. So let’s share that.

I struggle every day with depression and other things. I want to talk about it because I don’t see a day I will be one of those ‘overcomers’. I want to share my journey with strugglers.

Today, I am struggling.


I’m not trying to be silent. I’m struggling. I’m couch bound, re-watching Grey’s Anatomy for the third time marathon style.

I have ten blogs in draft and more in my head but the thoughts race too fast to make sense.

I’m going through some loss of friend stuff. Some Karma stuff that is good but requires mental processing. Some medical stuff. And, well, depression.

I’ll try to post more soon.