Not Ready

by Stephanie on July 17, 2012 · 0 comments

in Heavy Stuff

This year has been full of changes.  One of the hardest was moving.  I didn’t move far.  I am still in the same general area but I moved from a house that I loved with a roommate that I loved into an apartment.  The move was unwanted but necessary.  The situation between me and the roommate changed and it was no longer a healthy or happy environment for me.  This was devastating to me. 

I can say with some certainty that the move was the right choice.  I stayed until I had tried everything, until I was at my breaking point, so that I would never have to wonder if moving out was wrong.  I don’t want regrets.  I know without a doubt that there was no other option.  I know that moving allowed me to start healing from the hurt that person caused me.  And I believe not living together saved my friendship with my former roommate.  If I had stayed, I’m sure we would have destroyed all hope of reconciliation.

Knowing that moving was the right choice has not made the transition any easier.  I have struggled every step of the way.  Transitioning to living alone is hard.  My roommate and I were very close friends when we moved in together 5 years ago.  I am used to someone being around most of the time.  I’m used to having someone to chat with at the end of the day.  I’m used to there always being someone to do things with, even if it is just to watch TV.

I’ve learned this year that I have to take things at my own pace.  I have to take my time working through emotions, healing, and getting to where I need to be.  This applies to moving as well.  I’m still mourning the loss of the living situation of which I was so fond.  I miss having a yard.  I miss having a roommate.  I miss… everything.  Slowly, I’m settling in.  It took me almost two months to finish unpacking.  It took me three months to buy lamps for the bedrooms (just last week!).

Last night a friend offered to help me hang up pictures so my walls weren’t so bare.  My reaction was strong and unexpected.  “I can’t.  My pictures don’t belong here”.  And with that statement the floodgates opened and I had a good hard cry.  I had no idea I felt that way until she brought it up and I said it out loud.  It shocked me.  That’s the thing about emotions… sometimes they come out of nowhere. 

Clearly, my body and mind are telling me that I’m not ready to hang pictures up in my apartment right now.  And that’s okay.  I’ve taken a lot of steps towards healing and moving on in the last few months.  This one can wait.

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