At the beginning of the year, I put a graphic with the words “THRIVING” as my desktop wallpaper. It was meant to be an affirmation and a call for manifestation for all things wonderful in 2025. Before the -ber months rolled in, I devised a last-leg lock-in plan to combat burnout and hopefully do more and experience more. I ended October with uncertainty, lack of confidence, and a deep desire to just curl up in a fetal position.
October is the busiest month of the year at my day job. Despite my planning and scheduling and thinking ahead, new things came up and piled up. I’m proud of the results I got and the amount of hard work I put in. But I’m also just ready to take all my remaining leave credits.
A trip to the beach would be great. The week-long writing retreat in Baguio my husband and I have been planning since the middle of the year would be amazing. Heck, even days at home with nothing to do but watch our favorite TV series and discover new movies would be stellar.
We’ll spend November and the first few weeks of December adapting and rearranging though. As it does, life throws curveballs without care. You could be on your knees from exhaustion and it won’t budge.
So, the thing is: Our landlord told us at the beginning of October that he’s selling the house we live in, the house we’ve been living in for close to four years. Our daughter’s favorite house. We asked if we could stay at least until the schoolyear is over but he gave us until the end of November. We don’t want to leave.
It feels like a rug was pulled from underneath me and I struggle to stand back up. It’s especially challenging seeing how everyone else seems to be in a festive mood and celebrating something โ it is the holiday season, after all. I want to be excited about something and jumping for joy too, instead of crawling towards an uncertain new sense of security.
Acceptance
While we are actively looking for a new place, a part of me is still a bit in denial. The move couldn’t possibly be that soon (and other lies I tell myself so I don’t get a panic attack). But it is, and I have to acknowledge that it’s near. Avoidance will do me more harm than good; it will only increase my stress and anxiety in the long term.
Healthy coping starts with acceptance, the experts say. And the truth is: We’d have to leave this place anyway. We’d have appreciated more time but that’s just how it is. We don’t own it; we don’t have the last say.
Reframing
There is this icky feeling of not having control over our life and plans. We’d been averse to the idea of owning a house (despite paying for a downpayment for one a few years ago โ another story for another day) because renting is just so much easier. We don’t have to think about repairs, taxes, and other costs. There’s always been this risk, though.
I can feel the discomfort of change slowly enveloping me. But they say reframing is the best way to cope with it. The sudden change made us realize that we do, in fact, still want to live in this area. While familiarity plays a role in it, the comfort also largely comes from the peace we get here and the order we get to enjoy. We still miss Quezon City and would love to go back but it would be challenging (logistically, physically and financially) to make it our base while our daughter still goes to a boarding school on top of a mountain.
This also reminded me that life is just too short, and sometimes the things you least expect will happen. I’m grateful it’s this and not something that will alter my life and being forever. This I can cope with; I’d just need time and tools.
The sudden change also nudged us to take stock of what we have and decide if we need them. There will be more letting go, but it will make way for a fresh start.
Proactivity
I really just want to lay in bed and wallow, but depression hates a moving target. My husband is taking charge of much of the house-hunting (I’m so thankful!), while I try to steady my feet and eventually act. I will be helping out with the decision-making and trying to be sane. For everyone’s sake, I will be moving and doing instead of languishing. I will pivot even though I really just want to curl up and cry. It’s just a phase. And how do you get through a phase? Darling, just take one step at a time.