Our house is for sale (call our agent if you're interested!). This is Day 50 of it being on the market. We thought we had plumbed the depths of ennui before this process began but we were so very, very wrong.
To date, we've had about 12 showings, 2 open houses, and almost no interaction with our agent once she figured out we couldn't finance another family car. We had to drop the price on our home, which was something that had to be done Right Now because the new price had to fan out for the second open house. Except it didn't. The second open house was staffed by not-our-agent with not-the-right-price and barely signs telling buyers where they could find the house itself. (Yes, we drove around.)
It's a disillusioning process and experience for a house, frankly, we just want to be out of but can't unless the right price comes in. We expect to lose money on the sale. We expect pointed criticism about the house; hell, we'd provide it if needed.
What we didn't expect was the awful feeling of living in a house that is no longer your home. Our things, the comforts of our non-working lives, are stuffed in a 5x10 storage unit (to the ceiling) so that other people can maybe picture their stuff in our house. Our pets suffer because other agents can't be trusted (or, we're told, shouldn't be trusted) to either not let them outside or to not mistreat them in their own home.
Owing this home continues to be a terrible experience. I know there's some Dream That Must Be Had in owning a home. I don't get it. There's nothing particularly wrong with the house, but it's... I don't know... over? And it seems fitting that one of the most frustrating parts of owning it is getting rid of it.