Progress

The day I'll be moving out is approaching fast, and while the reality of it is finally sinking in I'm still feeling incredibly anxious. My mother's initial reaction to the news that I'd be leaving was one of anger and resentment, unsurprisingly. Her reasons for why I shouldn't move included money issues and safety concerns, though the best one of all was her perceived likelihood that I'd never be able to see any of my friends or family due to the distance. To put this into perspective, it's a twenty minute drive from the house to my apartment. Though, over the last couple of days she does seem to have come to terms with it, though. She's even asked normal questions like 'How close is it to the train?' rather than 'How will you ever be able to support yourself?'. I feel as if this moment of rational thinking on her part is short-lived, but that could also be my own issues with her past behavior coming up.

In spite of the overall lack of support from her, I'm still looking forward to being able to live on my own terms in an environment over which I actually have control. The idea that I can have friends over without being ashamed or self-conscious is still foreign, though I'm genuinely excited to find out what that's like.

Conditioning

Over the span of two weeks I've looked at apartment listings, visited one, and by some amazing stroke of luck had found the perfect place at the perfect price in the neighborhood I've been dreaming about living in for ages. Anyone who lives in this city knows how ridiculously difficult it is to find a comfortable apartment in a safe area that's actually affordable, and the fact that I actually managed to do so makes me feel as if it's too good to be true.

I always imagined I'd be overwhelmingly excited to have the opportunity to get out and be on my own, but now that I have no choice but to face the reality that I really am leaving, a lot of very uncomfortable emotions have surfaced instead. Codependency and its related issues, as well as guilt and depression, are all coming through more than usual. Self-doubt is also screaming for attention. I'll have to truly accept that I can't save my mother from her own demons, and that no amount of logic will ever overpower her hoarding instincts. Aside from that, I'll also have to face the likelihood that my own issues are still going make getting through each day challenging, albeit less challenging than they are right now.

Before starting therapy, I'd never given much thought to the more subversive forms of negative conditioning that could be a factor in why I still struggle with things that are, in my opinion, very simple. Certain landmines are especially difficult to identify until they've already been set off, while others are known but seem uncontrollable once triggered, like some kind of Pavlovian response. I still struggle with being confident that I can function on my own, that I can be independent, or that I'll be able to survive. Being depressed is still a constant, regardless of being able to find peace in an environment that isn't chaotic or unhealthy. The idea of having people come over, which I haven't been able to do since I was very young, still brings forth all kinds of anxiety even if I won't have to worry about hiding my mother's big secret anymore. The list goes on, and on, and on.

Only time will tell how living somewhere else will turn out.