Green shag carpeting sent me into an emotional tailspin last night.
Chris decided we needed to rip up the carpet in the house now that we are living there. It IS unhealthy, it is way over 30 years old (it's the only carpet I've ever known in that house and I am 30), has been peed-on, has water damage, full of smoke stench, life stench, dust, dust, dust.
Okay. I know it needed to go. And we knew that there were hardwood floors underneath. So a pretty easy job, rip up the carpeting, pull out the tacks, sweep up and leave prettying the hardwood for another day.
But. It was my green shag carpet. In the dining room, in the living room, on the stairs. It's what I sat on while opening Christmas presents, it's where I've played with all my dogs, my mom walked on that carpet, so did my dad, I've had tantrums on it, done my homework on it, lived my life on top of that carpet, it's the green shag joke of the family. It was a part of our house.
Chris and two of our friends got to work in the afternoon, moving my mom's china and china cabinet, furniture, putting couches out for the trashman, destroying the house basically.
As the minutes went by and I saw the rooms transformed and the gross carpet balled up and thrown outside, I just lost it.
I was pacing and worrying and my anxiety was at an all time high. My heart was racing just watching them work. I couldn't distract myself.
After about two hours, Chris told me to take the dog for a walk to calm him down and to calm me down. I did. Didn't work.
My friend invited me over for dinner. She lives a little over a mile away. It was raining and cold and dark. I told Chris I was leaving while he worked... he fully supported it, because I was no help and going crazy.
I left the house with nothing but my phone and a light hoodie. I didn't grab car keys or anything. I just left the house in a daze and before I knew it, I was running... sprinting. In knock-off Ugg boots. Just running down the street and crying.
I am still sort of in shock over the whole thing. My carpet is gone :( It's not my dad's house anymore.
I ended up downing two HUGE glasses of wine, in a kind of white-faced, sweaty daze at my friends house and overeating at dinner. I don't feel good about that, but in the end, I am feeling worse about other things.... my sadness, my grief, the stupidness of this all. I hate it so much.
Don't worry and think I am losing it.... I am spilling my guts here because it is cathartic. My friends helped me a great deal, so did my soon to be SIL. But this is good for me, too. It makes it real, it puts it on paper, it gets it out of me.
I am doing better today. A little exhausted, still very shocked and sad, but carrying on.