Ah, moving out of home.
You finally found an apartment after agonising over the listings on Flatmates.com and your potential roommate isn’t an axe killer. Plus, they let you use their Netflix. Score!
You’ve hauled boxes full of stuff and a queen mattress (I owe my Dad and brother a steak) up three flights of stairs. There’s been multiple visits to Kmart because you can’t decide on a bed spread. When you eventually decide, though, you need a quilt, a sheet set and some plastic succulents because damn, they’re only $2! Moving out of home gives you such a high.
Until you crash.
This is my second time moving out of home and I was excited. I had regained my health, my independence and I was ready to take on the adult life (rent included). But then one night, I left the gym halfway through my workout in tears because I just couldn’t…anything. I felt weak, out of breath and couldn’t stop the heavy emotions from coming. After the high of moving out had worn off, I crashed. Spectacularly. I made quite a picture for the people walking their dogs. A single girl crouching against a fence blubbering on the phone to her sister.
When I ran out of the gym I felt like my world was imploding until my sister set me straight. She told me these things happen. I just went through a big transition and my body caught up with me. That was inconvenient, because the trainer was making us do burpees. I couldn’t do much else other than walk home to my new place, make dinner and cry again to my best friend. She promptly came over with some Grill’d and a sympathetic ear.
Moving out of home is nerve-racking but it’s also laced with excitement. You’re so pumped about moving out (again) on your own that nobody thinks about what happens after that excitement wears off.
Not everyone will have the same experience I did, but if you do it’s okay to cry a little. Call your family, take a walk or find a hobby to fill the time your new-found independence brings. If not, call your friends; they can come over with Grill’d.