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Moving House
So I'm moving out of my mom's house. Today, originally, but probably more like tomorrow as it turns out I won't actually have a mattress until then (not to mention that it's already after 8 at night, and I've barely even packed). I'm not going far, barely a mile I think -- I've walked back from there before -- I have roommates I really like, it's a great location, really close to a lot of my friends, and basically my whole community, and it's not like I can't come back here whenever I want. And I'm basically really excited about it.
But apparently I'm also kind of terrified, which I didn't even realize until today, when it came time to actually start moving this over there. I thought it would be no problem, but when it came down to it, I just couldn't do it. I nearly burst into tears when I was sorting through my freaking socks. I did manage to pack up one duffle bag of stuff, but couldn't even make myself put it in the car. I was supposed to move today, and in the end, I didn't even make it as far as getting in my car, let alone actually going to the apartment.
I did talk to my mom about it, which I'm really proud of, as normally when something is more than I can handle, I just avoid it, or do something self destructive, or whatever else, and I almost never manage to actually just ask for help when I need it, before I've done anything maladaptive to deal with it. And we have a plan now. She's going to go over there with me after work tomorrow to at least help me get started, and I think I'll be able to do it on my own once I get started, but she'll come back the next day as well, and over the weekend, if I need her to. And she's given me more time to deal with stuff in my room before she gets rid of everything (it's not like she's kicking me out and getting rid of all my stuff -- I'm allowed to still have stuff in drawers and on shelves and everything, and even in storage in the attic, it's just that due to some combination of hoarding and just flat out laziness -- I have a hard time getting rid of stuff I no longer use, but I also sometimes just can't be bothered to throw things out at the moment, and end up forgetting to deal with it later -- I basically have piles of stuff on the floor of my room, and my mom has said that whatever I don't either put away, take with me, or pack up for storage she's going to throw out... originally it was going to be this weekend, but now she's given me another two weeks, and the plan is that I'll take a minimum amount of stuff with me to the new place, and whatever I find that I really need or miss, I'll come back for, and hopefully I'll be able to narrow down what I really need to keep and what I can get rid of that way). So I feel like I have it under control, and should be fine. Which is probably at least part of why I ended up posting in General rather than Serious, as I don't feel like I'm in, or in any danger of going into "crisis mode" at all, or anything like that :)
I'm basically fine, but... why is it so freaking stressful moving houses? I mean, it's not like I haven't lived away from my parents before -- I lived in the dorms at university for five years, and never had any trouble with that. And I'm going to be way closer than I was then -- I was in another state back then, and now I'll be not even five minutes away. And both my roommates are older than I am, and one even has kids around my age (as well as at least one grandchild), and I'm a short walk from my rabbi's house as well, who's oldest kids are actually older than I am, and one of his kids is almost exactly my age (I'm like two weeks older or something), and I'm pretty close with his wife, and take babysit one of their grandkids... so it's not even like I don't have people to look after me, who still think of me as a kid who needs looking after. And it's not like I can't come back to my mom's house, either. I mean, she wants me to have the *floor* in my room cleaned up within a couple weeks of when I move, but that's it. My bed will still be here, and all my things that are in the closet, drawers, bookshelves, even under my bed, and I'm welcome back any time I want. And my mom is going to pay my rent for the first couple months, and then slowly transition to me paying it myself (meaning I'll start off paying just a bit of it, with her paying most of it, and gradually increase my share until I'm paying it myself... and it's not like I can't afford the rent, either -- I mean, I have savings from money I inherited that would cover like 70 years of rent, so a month here or there is no big deal, and anyway, my mom would rather step in and help me out than have me dip into said savings), so it's not like I'm even taking on much new responsibility all at once or anything (and heck, my mom still pays my phone bill, health insurance, car insurance, and whatever other expenses I have that I don't even know about... and the only one we've even started talking about transitioning to me paying for is car insurance, and that was my suggestion as it's about to become super-expensive as soon as I get my license back due to my having been arrested for and convicted of a DUI... in the mean time, I'm not sure I actually have car insurance at all, but considering that my license is suspended and it's illegal for me to be driving at all, I'd have to say that insurance is the least of my problems right now). And, I mean, I'm 25 years old, nearly 26 (granted it's still nearly 3 months until my birthday, which I guess isn't that short, or at least it didn't used to be... for any young people reading this, I guess it isn't all that close... but I've come to realize that at this point, a couple months feels like practically nothing at all), so it's not like I'm young to be living on my own or anything -- most people my age move out of their parents house years ago. And even so, my mom isn't really kicking me out or anything (despite what people in my DUI group might say), she was just putting some minimal amount of pressure on me to move towards being more independent, and it probably would have taken even longer than it did except that it just happened that my friend's roommate was moving out just when I was starting to look for an apartment, and an ideal situation just kind of fell into my lap.
But yet, on some level, I guess I'm kind of freaking out a bit about moving out, even though I really have no reason to (considering that I'll still be within walking distance of my mom's house, I'm welcome back whenever I want for as long as I want, and I'm going to be living with and near people who have kids around my age and see me as someone who still needs looking after, and I'm sure will more look after me as much as I need, probably more even more than my mom can/would). But yeah.
I'm not sure what I'm really looking for here though, or if it's even fare to all of you to have posted this at all. Cause, like, I know what I need to do, and what I should be telling myself and everything. And I know what I'd say to someone else who said what I just did... and I also know I'd probably just shoot it down or brush it off or whatever. So idk, maybe this would have been better suited to R&V or something, cause while I guess part of me does feel like I do want advice, and it definitely didn't start off as a rant, I guess maybe that's kind of what it turned into, and I'm not sure there's much anyone can say that will really help, or that I'd even listen to enough to give it much of a chance to help. And I would say that people should just kind of slap me back and put me in my place when I shoot down all the help they try to offer, but I know that I can't handle that very well (not that it's too terrible if it does happen, I mean, it probably does do more harm that good, but it's not like it's life-treatening or anything, I just feel disproportionately crappy when I read it, don't really learn as much as I could from it, and end up maybe a bit more cautious about posting, though not to terrible, but no better about taking advice that I really should listen to), so honestly, I don't know what anyone could say that I won't end up either just kind of brushing it off, or biting your head off. And no one here deserves that (well, no one I've met so far anyway, and certainly no one who genuinely means well, but I can't be entirely certain there won't be some troll who's just joined RYL and reads this before being banned who actually does deserve it :p). So not really sure what I'm hoping for, but just wanted to talk about it I guess.
And sorry if that got increasingly less coherent and more rambling. I was kind of drinking quite a bit while writing this, and while I was reasonably sober when I started off, I no longer am, and I'm prone to pretty severe rambling when I've been drinking...
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