Deciding When to Move Out: A Personal Challenge

Hello, ProU! I'm back! I've been gone a long time. School eats up everything, including my ability to blog coherently.

But now I'm home again, spending my summer away from the city I never adjusted to, and surrounded by the family I had grown to miss and appreciate.

So why am I aching to go back to Chicago so soon?

The answer to that is simply that I've finally placed a priority on myself, and my family is presenting a threat to my own personal progress. Allow me to explain.

I have a barely functional family. I'm not sure if we could be called dysfunctional. All I know is that my childhood was full of near fall-outs. At one point, my mom had actually taken my brothers and I and moved out, threatening my dad with divorce. But somehow, we all managed to stay together, despite our more-than-minor problems. I know for a fact that a good bit of the sticking-together was only possible because of me.

I have spent most of my life smoothing things out between members of my family. I've been the bridge-builder, the person to vent and complain to, the glue that kept us from falling to pieces. I saw it in my own actions, and this thought was confirmed when each of my family members, individually and secretly, confided in me that I was the only thing that'd kept us all together for so long. This was two weeks before I left for college.

I wish that burden had never been laid upon me. Because, now that I'm home, I have more confirmation that it's true. Home life is falling apart. My parents are more self-centered and irritable, the eldest of my younger brothers is slacking off in school, scouts, and chores to talk to his girlfriend (who I don't like and think is a bit of a jerk), and my youngest brother is more violent and angry than he ever used to be. Since I've been home, I've been physically attacked, blamed for other's actions, guilt-tripped, and insulted. By my family. For simply being me, biting my tongue when angry, having patience, and trying to be happy.

But I'm done being the support. I can't handle it anymore. I've broken free of my restraints, I'm in the process of growing, and I know that being here is not something I need at this point in my life. I've got a community of people who really care about me and are interested in what I think, friends who are genuine and supportive, and a person to love and who loves me in return. I am happy. I am growing up. I am learning to walk on my own.

And coming home has dredged up all the old feelings. I reread all my old blog posts today, and several of them made me want to cry. I've grown so much and made it so far in this first year of college. I'm conquering insecurities and doubts. I'm learning how to be happy without a struggle. I refuse to let anyone, even my family, who I love dearly, push me back into old ways of thinking.

So now I'm wanting to move out. This surprised me when I first thought it. I had originally intended to live with my parents indefinitely. Now I want to move out as soon as I graduate (because I can't stay in Chicago... I will never be a city person and someone's got to take care of my horses), if not sooner. Sooner won't happen because I can't seem to get a job and can't afford it.

I've found myself suddenly trying to decide when to move out, and it's a big decision, not one to be taken lightly. I really want to be out now, because I can't handle another summer of this. But how would I afford it? How would I manage? I'm still dependent upon my parents financially, and thus, I'm caught in their web. I can't make a decision one way or another and be happy.

I can stay in Chicago: I've got an apartment there and a roommate who I love dearly. But I hate the city, and it drives me batty. Also, I need to be home during the summer to do the hay. I've taken on that responsibility because no one else has the time or patience to sit for so many hours on the tractor, and how else will my horses be fed. I can't bear to part with them.

I can continue to come home between semesters: I am consistently drawn to this place, if not the people. The place calms me, makes me happy, gives me a sense of peace. But I can't take much more of my family. I can only handle them in small doses. I'm emotionally drained, often terrified for my own well-being and state of mind, and the old patterns of thought are creeping their way back in, telling me that I'm to blame for all the problems, because i made the decision to leave.

I'm trying to find a medium here, and until then, I'll stick to my original plan. I'm going to get a job or two in Chicago, and I'll save half of each paycheck. That way, I can afford to move out when I graduate, and have time to find a job. If I can move out of the house and stay close, I can have my place with only small doses of the people.

Logically, this is a good decision. Emotionally, I need out now. It's a double-edged sword, and yet another challenge in my path that I must conquer. Moving out is a big decision, and deciding when is the best time... well, that's really hard to do.