I have bruises all over my arms and legs, but that’s what generally happens in a move. You bump things, carry heavy boxes and get some scrapes too along the way. 4 years I lived in the same place. The longest I’ve ever lived in one place in my entire adult life. I didn’t expect to be here this long, but regardless, its come to an end on almost 4 years to the day.
I’m fighting back tears and I’m sure as I keep typing, they’ll eventually fall because this whole process has been incredibly overwhelming, emotional and stressful. Not to mention humbling. So very humbling. 2 days before actually moving, I cried a lot. I was so overwhelmed by everything still left to be done. Boxes, trash and large amounts of my stuff all strewn over darn near every inch of my floors. I’m a very clean and tidy person and having everything everywhere was more than my brain could handle and I broke down often that day.
I never knew it but hangers are my Achilles heel. My complete undoing. I walked away from packing my many hangers at least 4 times, my brain couldn’t take it anymore. I was left staring at them, just staring at them blankly and eventually would walk away defeated.
They defeated me that day.
The day before the move was a completely different day. It was as if all the trauma and drama of the day before hadn’t even happened. I was functioning, positive and able to make progress little by little. Not to mention conquering the hangers and even taking it in stride when they started fighting back.
Only a few knew I was moving. And many of them, I told mere days before leaving when I’ve known it was coming for weeks. It was hard to talk about. A failure of sorts, though I know I’m not a failure, its still hard not to think so. It got to a point where I had to face the facts. I was looking for jobs everywhere but where I was living, and I had virtually nothing coming in since quitting my job, so why stay in an apartment I couldn’t afford any longer?
I chose to quit my job, I chose to put myself in this situation and I chose to accept my parents offer to stay with them until I found the job that would help me get back on my feet. They didn’t have to do that. They could have ‘taught me a lesson’, and refused to take me in, since this is all my doing, my choice. And I’m thankful to them for not.
I’m not a freeloader. I’ve told myself that over and over again. (I’ve read that sentence over and over again) I’m not. This is only temporary. I believe it. My parents believe it, its only temporary.
It’s still hard. Its going to be hard for them. Its going to be hard for me. Its going to take some adjusting. I’ve been on my own since I was 21. Lived by myself for 6 1/2 of those 11 years. We all have our own way of doing things, so there will be a learning curve for all of us as I get settled in.
Once this all settles, I hope to pick things back up here. I’m hoping so, any way. I have some fun things coming up, so I’m looking to turn my heaviness that’s been lurking here for awhile into a much lighter space.
3 comments:
Hey sweet friend, you sure have had a lot going on.
When my dad got sick, I moved home after living on my own for almost 10 years. The adjustment was interesting (to say the least) and there was a time when my parents and I were not quite sure how to deal with each other but I am so thankful that we found our feet and that I ended up staying a lot longer than we had ever thought I would.
I was privileged to take care of my dad when he was getting ready to transition and I was able to do all manner of little things for him and for my mom. I am very thankful for the late night conversations, the early morning routines and the amazing honour I have had of getting to know my parents as an adult.
So I guess what I am trying to say is try to think of this as not a failure but as an opportunity to strengthen the bonds between you and your parents. And see this as a time where you can spend quality and quantity time with them!!
Oh and when it all drives you a little nuts I find that fried bacon, my ipod and kindle do wonders....
I'm praying for you!
Change is so very hard even if it is for the better. I'll be praying for guidance. Moving in with parents is never fun, but your not alone. Been there. Sometimes things work in mysterious ways.
Hey, sometimes that is just the way the cookie crumbles. As much as we wish it wasn't so life is not always puppies and rainbows. Obviously your mental health was worth more to you than the money.
I am having a tough time finding another job right now too. Thankfully i have my husband working but in a couple years i plan to move and sell our house to be closer to my mom.
In fact live with her for 2 years so i can get my bachelor degree, my certificate is just not good enough these days. I moved out when i was 17 and that will make it 20 years since lived with her and home life was not ideal in any way at that time so i know how hard it can be mentally but just think of how much better it will be later.
How long have you been dating your bf? Have you thought of relocating to where he is and see if that works better?
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