I am not a big believer in buying the newest new thing, but I do think there's a point where the old stuff can get in the way. Perhaps this last few months has been about this, from the dentist to the baseboards. I also think I will never be the best of the householders, but I have always done a hell of a lot better than this.
Anyway, I don't remember when, but the refrigerator I always hated when I bought this flat finally conked out. It was too big: I had to edge past it every time I used the kitchen. I bought a new smaller one, which was perfect: 24 x 24" instead of 30 x 36". I did choose that properly. It is however taller than the old one. Therefore, I had to take a cabinet out.
I did it myself, no sweat. I had to: the delivery guys were coming.
You never saw such a mess as was hidden behind that cabinet. The plaster is fifty years old and broken, and studs were inset into the wall to hold the cabinet. They are exposed. Around them a 1/2" wide, irregular gully ran along the top and bottom of both of those impromptu studs. Just ick.
Home Improvement v. Solitary Confinement
My stronger, less cowardly self would have been onto that like white on rice. I would have been revved because I had the chance to consolidate the gains from the space-making refrigerator. Not this time. It just looked like another crisis. Maybe an ugly wall became a way to punish myself for getting something nice. Now how stupid is that.
Two years (or however long) later, I started spackling the plaster but couldn't sustain the effort. The spackle sat in the kitchen along with the putty knife for months--at least eight of them--because it was on the floor when my sister came to visit in September. Lately, I have returned to the daily spackle. I am almost done--a couple more layers. Then I will paint this offending patch of plaster with primer. I have some other major caulking to do. Then I will paint the whole kitchen.
So, I know I am not the only reluctant handyman on this earth. But I have to wonder, with the sheer number of items like this, WTF have I been thinking? I figure I am coming out of depression after all. That means it hurts to see how I have let things slide and damaged my life further by letting things go. Just down and down. After down and down, there has to be up and up. Living through the down and down was hard work. Coming through the up and up is a different kind of work.
As I fix things, my outlook improves. Last year I was just trying to get out of the house. This year, I had the dental work which meant I had to do that part all over again. I put off the dental because I knew it would precipitate a crisis, but I didn't avoid a crisis anyway. I do think I was stronger for it this year than I would have been last year.
I also think this decline relates to unresolved grief. I had no plan. All I knew was that I couldn't let go because I hadn't resolved my husband's death. Nothing worked, nothing advanced, and then it started to fall apart.
Therapy works. So does a putty knife. Right now these things are inseparable. Right now I am working on having a place that reflects me and my taste but also my self-respect. A place where people can come in and see what I have to offer. With agoraphobia, I couldn't go outside. The flip side of my agoraphobia was also that no one could come in. Soon that will not be true. I will not have to be ashamed for letting things go. I will live again in an atmosphere of achievement.
|It may look like hell, but this is MUCH improved. I've put two coats on since, |
and I think two more are needed. Whatever it takes.
|Not pictured: the 3-M sanding sponge I bought last week.|
That sponge is making all the difference in the finishing
aspect of this wall!!!