I'm Moving

This is not a drill. I am, in fact, moving.

 It is an incredible and momentous event. Not only is moving hard enough on its own, it is tremendously more difficult when the original move was so important.

Moving into this apartment marked the beginning of my psychology degree. The night I moved in here, I purged for the last time. The entire time I've been here, my ex has known where I've lived. He's spoken about checking in on me and how he's wanted to come visit. He even has on a few occasions.

This was the first apartment where I've purchased new furniture for myself. I decorated my apartment to reflect a comforting, homely space that I could feel safe and appreciate myself. I allowed myself to try new things and explore my aesthetic.

In this apartment I have relapsed and recovered and relapsed and recovered repeatedly. I've memorised walks and worked my butt off here. I built routines of self discipline that have helped and ones that have hindered. I designed daily structures and formulated walls to protect myself from the outside world.

I tried living without food rules. I failed, but I tried that here.

Living here, I shut down, shut in, and shut off. I hibernated long and hard. Eventually, I also re-emerged. Rested, anew. Slowly allowing people into my inner circle. I leave here with a beautiful group of people I consider my family.

I've been here almost 5 years. I'm leaving this lease a different person than the one who signed it.

I saw floods, storms, heatwaves, lockdowns.

I saw the local shopping centre drown.

I worked my way through a catastrophic customer service job, got myself through a degree, managed to achieve a distinction on my honours thesis, had my mother become disabled and then took on the role of being her carer at my own expense both emotionally and financially. In the same vein, I let my dad live here with me when he was made homeless. I was here when my childhood dog died.

I have seen so much life in the time that I've lived here. None of it I regret.

Yes, I am crying as I write this. It really is the end of an era.

I don't have to be little miss independent anymore. I can open up and let people in. I can ask for help. 

I've invited a beautiful soul into my world and I am welcoming the next era; the era of us.