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often when I'm missing things that I forgot to pack - like my stash of greeting cards, I beat myself up and go "what were you doing those two weeks you had to get packed".
You know what I was doing? going insane all by myself with every support system I ever had completely missing. There was one person I called on the field because I knew she had gone through a divorce with a really tough lawyer, and I wanted that lawyer (instead I got my fucking lawyer after millions of wasted phonicalls). She was my one person who was local. Everyone else was trying to help from 3,400 miles away. It sucked. I sucked at it. My biggest and first priority and everything was based on Tammy: getting his shit out of the house and making some money off the stuff he left behind.
It was a fiasco. I was out of my mind. I needed so much and got nada. I didn't even get any money at first just loads of shitty advice. I took all of it. My favorite part was when I said to Tammy "wait a minute. We don't own the house. I don't think this is going to apply to me." Yup, I had thought I would be staying in the house longer and him leaving. I can beat myself up about it silly and I do every day.
Today, I made a shitty homemade card still haven't worked up the guts to handwrite "with deepest sympathy" because not only am I not handy, but I have the worst handwriting in the world. No one is going to help me though.
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