Where I’ve Been Wednesday: A Year Later

Two weeks from today will be the one year anniversary of when my world fell apart. I would love to say that I am stronger now, but I am not. There is just a lot missing and lately that included me at least from the blog world.  No need to be all mush mush, let’s catch up…from the beginning with lots of glossing over the parts that still make me cry hard enough that I can’t breath.

And don’t y’all worry! I still don’t believe in punctuation or proofreading, still just kicking out random. Though, I must admit a rough draft of this post would probably have been helpful.

There has always been Muffy On The Move, just not as the gypsy nomad most of y’all know. I had an idea that I couldn’t shake, an idea that I couldn’t Rattle Out of My Head.  See what I did there? If it isn’t clear, that is the link to my very first post. I know, super clever. Thanks to the beauty of technology and much too much dedication on my behalf, I went back and post dated all of my original Facebook posts that led to the blog.

My possessions were suffocating me. They all had to go….everything. I started planning an escape, that is where the tiny house idea bloomed. Even I find this boring, here’s the short of it: I sold, gave away, or donated everything I owned. I bought an old RV to live in while I built a tiny house. Goodbye debt, hello freedom.

evolution of getting rid of it all
Evolution of me losing my mind. 
This was probably one of my worst ideas ever. It was hard, really really hard.

On Day 30 of WTH Am I Doing, I posted that I had taken my first real shower in almost a week. Plumbing couldn’t be installed in the RV until the new flooring was put down which didn’t really matter since I didn’t have any power. This was also the day I declared that the “blog is on” in case there was someone else out there that might be encouraged by constant disasters. The day before, my triumph was getting the bathroom door unlocked with a paper clip all while fearing leaving the safety of the Hawk’s backyard for a trailer park in North Charleston and not the hip, upcoming area either.

Day 25, I showered in the tub of the RV with a garden hose that I had pushed through a window. A good day! Except I was worried that a raccoon might crawl up the exposed tire shaft into my “home.”

Hurricane Matthew started towards us and I staked down my RV before evacuating, crying because I really didn’t have enough left for Matthew to take some.

Then I came back and that is when it all happened. Turns out, Matthew wasn’t what took everything from me. But, I am not going to talk about that night. I still can’t.

When I resurfaced a week later, it was time to live up to the name. Charleston broke my heart so I left. I just needed new memories to push back everything I knew. And that is when I started traveling.

There was a lot of new, a lot of sad, and, somehow, more loss. Last you heard from me, I was miserable in Kentucky trying to find my voice again. It took ages for me to write anything decent. When I did, it paid off.

Why am I rehashing all of this? Because some of y’all are assholes. Because some of y’all forgot all of that and only saw the shiny new that came along.

Since Kentucky, all of the heartache and hustle of the last year paid off. I went pink and drove off into the sunset with the top down on my convertible to California. The summer was spent submerged in a story that is going to become an awesome fucking book. Looking back, it kind of felt like going undercover losing all of my own life to be apart of the story.

What happens now?

Well, the sailboat is still the plan just maybe after hurricane season. Since I believe in the hustle, I’m taking this success and building a safety net in the form of a tiny house. That isn’t a metaphor, an actual tiny house is finally coming to fruition. Other than that, I write. I’ve rented a room in Tuscaloosa and plan to just write. I’ll spend the anniversary of the worst day of my life on the other side of the country most likely in silence pretending none of it ever happened. And that is all the discussion we will be having on that.

With my life somewhat back, you’ll be hearing more from me on all the original topics of tiny houses, traveling, with stories of where I have been, and all that is to come. Knowing me, probably lots of ridiculousness to go with it all. For reals, I’ve been researching rattlesnake bite proof boots for an upcoming outing. Side note: if you ever want to have your mind blown, check out some of the boot testing videos. Hells to the nos on that job.

So thank you to all of you who made it through this post, who have wondered where I am, who have followed along on social media (where I haven’t been absent at all), and all of you who have supported me all along. A million high fives to everyone who knew I had this in me and big “suck it” to all those I disappointed by succeeding. Get used to it because I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon. Mostly, thank you to Sarah Bonge who inspired this post by reminding me that my life is kind of awesome right now, but she wouldn’t have suffered through half the stuff I had to do to get here.

 

For anyone who ever forgets:

Day 27 of WTH Am I Doing, September 13, 2016

Let’s talk about the not fun stuff. I spend an obscene amount of my time crying. Sometimes it’s the obvious like getting a huge splinter when I braced myself from stepping on a missing portion of the floor or from an overall meltdown fueled by exhaustion when wondering really wth am I doing with my life? There’s been a surprisingly amount of crying from texts of people informing how terrible a friend I am being. I get it. I’m being incredibly self centered, I’ve already covered that (see Day 21). Mostly, I end up crying because it’s really hard trying to hear the beat of your own drum when people are trying to drown it out with criticism. In no way do I think what I’m doing is for everyone else. Hell, it probably isn’t even for anyone else. That’s just it though, this is for me. This is me doing what I need to do and making the sacrifices I need to in order to get where I want to be. Some of the sacrifices are short term like splinters and washing my hair after dark with a garden hose. Some of them a little longer term like square footage, belongings, and sadly a few friends. This isn’t all a fun adventure. Words hurt just as much as splinters. Now, if you’ll excuse me, the sun has gone down and I need to wash my hair. #LongTermNotShortTerm #MuffyOnTheMove #RVLiving