The blog has been pretty quiet for the last few months, as we have had some rough times in our household. There are a lot of reasons for this, including the ridiculously cold weather of late, but what is most central is the fact that we finally reached the decision to sell our home. We built this house and moved in only 2 months before my crash. Since then, my parents provided us significant financial help to allow us to stay in our home, for which we will be eternally grateful.  Unfortunately, the fact is that even if I start working tomorrow, and I have been applying for jobs, it will be a long time before I return to my pre-crash level of income.

The final blow to our perfect little home came in the form of a denial to my appeal for social security disability late in the fall. While I have no desire to receive social security disability long term, receiving back-pay for the three years of missed work, the small monthly payment, forbearance of my student loans, and health insurance coverage, would have been a game changer for us while I crawl my way back into productive society.  With that denial it became clear our time was up, and we need to face reality. We met with our realtor, who happens to be a friend, at a local brewery to discuss options and I cried through the whole meeting…and then I continued to cry for the next three days. We knew the day might come, but thought if we could delay it long enough, I would be recovered and we could return to our previously scheduled life.

Some people may live in a place for years without it ever being “home”. A home is more than simple “shelter”. Shelter is where you seek refuge, it is a place to be warm, and safe. Home is all of these things, but it is also where you surrounded by people that make you feel loved and it is where you feel you belong.  The acceptance that we are losing the stability of our home, and the neighbors that have become family, left me feeling quite exposed and vulnerable.

A couple months ago, as we sat in her yard with our dogs playing, my very wise neighbor pointed out that the years Josh and I have spent in this house have been the worst years of our lives. I can remember early in my recovery feeling that this house was not a sanctuary, but a prison where I was isolated, trapped, and miserable, and I wanted nothing more than to set fire to the place. For so many personal reasons, some related to the crash, but also other very painful losses including the death of Josh’s mother, there have been far too many tears cried within these walls for both of us, and a fresh start somewhere new should be a welcome change. Really maybe we should just burn the place down and move on with our lives. It would save the time and effort of packing.

It is hard to imagine moving. Not that moving is a foreign concept, but I thought I was done for a while. In the 22 years since I left home after high school, I have lived in 18 different places. I’m sure there are people that can beat that number, but it is still crazy to think I’ve moved that much! After all those temporary places, this house was finally going to be our long term home, but I guess we were wrong. In the past, every time I moved it had been to pursue a better situation; to find a better roommate, to be closer to my favorite trails, to have a shorter walk to classes, to start a new job, to live with my fiance. Perhaps I’ve been lucky, but after 18 moves, this will be the first move I haven’t wanted.

In January, without even putting our house on the market it sold quickly, and the buyers gave us 60 days to rent back for free. The second the funds were deposited in our bank account, we completely paid off our huge student loan debt. After making offers on three different properties, we finally managed to purchase a townhome not too far away and are in the throes of fixing it up. The selling & buying has been a difficult process. My brain has struggled to deal with the stress, and I’ve had some highly symptomatic days. However, I can honestly say that after working on the place, and picking out new finishes, I’m finally beyond the tears and actually getting excited about the move. We are making it “ours”, and it will be beautiful.

Accepting that the life we had before the crash is not the life we have now means sacrificing some of the comforts to which we have grown accustomed…like giving up our ranch floorplan and tragically having to go up stairs again! The horror! Seriously, the townhome is a tri-level, which means I’ll come in the garage and have to go up a full flight of stairs carrying groceries! Yes I’ve done three 100 mile races, but I hate stairs. With all that training, my legs are tired. I’m cramping up just thinking about it. Eventually maybe all that extra vertical gain will pay off and help my training, and this 19th move will turn out to be as good for my legs as it will be for our finances.

We have about three more weeks of work do to on the place and then we are moving. We are grateful to all the friends and family that have reached out with offers to help us with that move, and we regret to inform you that we are taking you up on those offers, so we hope you meant it. It is with all your love and support that this house will become our home.

If you have a brain injury and are struggling to stay in your home, you can contact your local Brain Injury Alliance to see if they provide emergency housing funding. In Colorado, The Brain Injury Hope Foundation provides small grants for this purpose, and around Boulder County EFAA can help with housing and utilities. These are very short term solutions, but it can buy some time. As painful and stressful as the moving process can be, if you own your home, consider downsizing to reduce your financial burden.