Today has been a very trying day... hell, it's been a trying week/month/year. It's taking every fiber of my being to calm myself down and just breathe. And nothing out of the normal has actually happened, but I am just one step closer to my nervous breakdown with every day.
I know that my Dad's house hasn't been on the market for that long (3 months), but it's been empty now for a year and a half. That means about two years or more of dealing with what to do with my Dad's situation... the journey of fighting to get my brother out of his house... getting my Dad to realize my brother/nephew have a problem... and the decision to move here and move my Dad in... and dealing with getting the house fixed up... and dealing with my Dad's financial situation... and now with why it isn't selling, followed by an engaging round of second guessing my every move up to this point. And all the while, my brother and nephew heaping their shit on top and swarming around waiting for the house to sell, thinking they are getting something more... and my Dad in some sort of daze, just going about his business (toast, Price is Right, horseshoes, repeat).
For one minute, I'm going to be selfish: I'm tired of everyone getting theirs off the top, instead of the bottom line, after all the work is done. When I think of all that my brother got away with... and my nephew (not to mention what he was able to attach to the house that will be taken care of with the sale)... it makes me sick. When I think of what my real estate agent stands to gain from doing nothing, it makes me sick. With the house appraising at $170k a year ago and what she thinks it is worth, there's a world of difference. And that difference is her ability to sell and to truly believe in the property to begin with... ie: just because she wouldn't want to cut the grass, she thinks having a big yard is a downfall... just because she, etc., etc., ... it's almost like she's not even trying to put any effort into selling it. I could understand when we had it originally listed for $178k, but now that it's priced even lower than she thought it was worth, it doesn't make any difference in her effort. I'm a real estate agent, so I understand the way it works... and the market, but I had much more luck (having almost sold it for $190k a year ago) trying to sell it myself than now. Lastly, I'm tired of how, if ever, when I do sell it to someone and they get the place for the ridiculous price that they will...I feel that I don't punch them right in the face at closing.
Somehow, I've been thrust into the position of being the responsible one... but for as many dreams as I have about selling the house and taking care of everything, I have just as many about dropping my Dad off at the old house to fend for himself and taking off... and that makes me feel terrible. How my brother and nephew, being incapable of any remorse or responsibility, can just walk around without any of the burden or having the terrible feelings, is beyond me. It's consuming me alive... I want to jump out of my skin. I can't imagine that getting the satisfaction from one day selling it and moving on is a possibility any more. I am mentally exhausted, weighed down and angry.
I have to figure out if I'm going to try to rent it out... sell it on my own... or just lower the price and be patient.
Easy for an outside observer to say, but you can only take things one day at a time. I know you're not religious, but I believe that if you live your life right here (as you are), your rewards will come........OK, you can tell me to shut up now.
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