Feeling Broken

It’s been a difficult year of transition.

In February of this year, my husband retired and shortly thereafter I quit my job so we could pack up our belongings and move to another state, closer to his grown children. Those changes were major enough, in leaving a job that I knew like the back of my hand though I was plenty ready to find something new. Supporting a newly retired spouse is/was/has been challeging all in itself too. Add moving away from a support system of friends and family to somewhere where I only know my spouse and his children, and you understand my feeling lost. Fast forward a month and a half after moving here, we embarked on a major six-week road trip from Oregon to New York to visit my husband’s family and friends, along with a few of my siblings along the way. We camped a good majority of it, which is huge because we’ve never camped before, so it was a huge adjustment to learn how to work with each other to perform the tasks to assemble and break down the tent, and get our campsite set up. We just returned from the trip, tired and happy for the experience of sharing in this once in a lifetime trip, knowing fully well how costly it was to do on his fixed income.

We returned to find that our home had been broken into while we were gone (we’d had his daughter checking on the house weekly, and put timers on lights to look like someone was home). All our jewelry, my husband’s knife collection, all his hand tools, our flatscreen tv, my Prismacolor colored pencils (I’m an artist), and my car parked in the garage were all stolen. The police believe it was just drug addicts looking to fence stolen goods to buy more drugs. No leads.

We are waiting for someone to come repair the door so we can have some semblance of feeling secure in the home. We aren’t going to get much back in the way of reimbursement for most of the items stolen because we were unknowingly underinsured. We have to wait three weeks to see if my car turns up before we see any compensation for it, and it won’t be much because it’s a 14 year old car.

I don’t feel safe here. I am angry beyond words. I am struggling to sleep and eat. And in the midst of it all, I’m trying to apply for work to land a job here, so we can start filling up our savings account again to try and rebound from this injustice.

Please, ‘local feathers’ here, I need strength, I need compassion, I need people I can lean on to try to work through all the emotions I am currently drowning in. I have lost my support base of friends from my old place of residence. They’re still friends, just not here to lean on and hug. Family is also days away, so emails, messages, texts and phone calls are about the only support I’ve gotten from my tribe. I need your help. I need your strength.