I've been trying to be positive and keep upbeat about this 90 day loan modification trial period to keep my house from foreclosing. I've been approved for a 90-day trial period of the federal government's Home Affordable Modification Program. It allows me to pay a reduced mortgage for three months to prove to my loan servicer that I can make a modified loan payment plan before finalizing a modification. I got lost in the quagmire of bad loans that took the nation's economy down when I refinanced my then 2008 mortgage into an ARM. That loan started adjusting in 2013, taking my once manageable monthly payment of $1150 to a whopping $1500 in a month. And the amount just kept going up, far outpacing my pay checks. In 2011, I started "working" with my servicer, which was then Bank of America about six months before I knew I wasn't going to be able to make my full mortgage payment due to accepting a buyout at my old job (versus being laid off). Over the next four years, "working" with the bank turned into "battling" the bank; getting rejected two times for a modification. BofA sold my troubled mortgage to Green Tree Servicing (which is now Ditech) and less than a month after Green Tree took over, I started getting foreclosure notices. I started working with realtor Debbie Friedman and City of Aurora Housing Counselor Tony Ormsby who held my hand during my third modification attempt. I had no real hope it would work. But nearly 70 pages of faxed and signed documents later, I finally got a letter from Ditech saying I had been approved for the trial period. I cried at my desk from relief. If I could pay a reduced mortgage (about $300 less) for three months, Ditech would grant me a modification and hopefully a new, 30-year fixed rate.
An amazing blessing, isn't it? I was giddy for several days until a frightening truth hit me in the face. It had been nibbling on the insides of my head for days, but I tried not to pay it any attention. Ignore it and it will go away. Yah, I'm sure we all know how THAT works.
A photography client wasn't able to pay me that morning as planned for some CDs they'd ordered. Normally that's not an issue. I wait till you can, I know things come up. But that day, of course, my gas tank was on E. I cried all the way to the gas station, not sure if my credit card would let me overdraft so I could fill up the Jeep.
And my darkness -- that's what I call my depression -- swooped in on me like a shark who had been searching the sea for blood it smelt 10 miles away. "If I can't even pay for gas, how will I pay for a mortgage?"
That's how the depressed mind works...it's usually a whisper that turns into a roar. That one thought sent me screaming down the rabbit hole until I was so filled with anxiety I could barely drive to work. Didn't matter that my card let me overdraft. It's cool...you have gas, now go to work. Crisis overted. NOPE. My depressed mind doesn't work that way. That one incident turned into a day worth of crying, of kicking myself, of feeling like a failure, of just knowing that I will fail, and I will lose my house.
Took me all day to argue myself down....to use coping skills I've learned through cognitive therapy. Acknowledge the emotion and the thought that impacted your mood. But also acknowledge evidence that proves that emotion wrong.
Here's what I came up with:
1) Money gets tight at certain times of the month for everyone, not just me. I didn't have gas money yesterday, but I get paid tomorrow. I have a full time job and I run a small business, and I donate plasma. I'm crafty and resourceful. I will do whatever it takes to survive. Plus I have three photography shoots already lined up for next month. I got this. I will make it happen.
2) My new mortgage is $300 cheaper than the original. If I was able to pay that one before, then why wouldn't I be able to pay it now?
3) I have so many friends and relatives supporting me. All I have to do is swallow my pride and reach out. I am not alone even when my depression wants me to believe I am.
Still, I didn't really believe that until I woke up the next morning. Of course, by then, I had to apologize to my man for getting into a stupid argument and ripping him a new one because I was anxious and afraid. I had to have one of my besties kick me in the pants and forcefully put my head back on straight. I had to cry myself to sleep and let out more pain.
The main thing: the sun did come up and I was renewed again. But if I didn't suffer from depression, I would have been able to stop this mental train before it ran me over.
I guess I'm sharing this because I've had so many people message me privately on Facebook about their own battles with depression and ask questions about where they might be able to go to get help. September is Suicide Prevention Month, and I've been posting a ton of information helpful resources. I'm being open because I know many of my friends either feel they can't be or don't want to be. I get that. But I'm old, and I just don't give a crap anymore about others judging this part of me. Being open about this particular fight keeps me accountable. Keeps me alive. I just wanted to share with you an example of how some depressed people's minds work; how our thought processes are different from someone who is not depressed, and why this mental disorder must be treated, often times on numerous fronts that include medication and therapy. It's not something that can be gotten over or ignored. It's not something that can only be prayed away, although as a Christian I do believe in the power of prayer. I just also believe the Lord helps those who help themselves by getting into treatment for a known disease. Do with this what you will, but I hope you will read it and gain some insight. Share it with someone you know may be suffering.
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