The first time I moved out on my own and by "on my own" I mean in some weird flop house on the south side with friends with a way too lenient mother, I was 17. I had graduated from high school early, and the relationship between me and my dad had deteriorated to the point of being toxic for the both of us. He had completely stopped talking to me and if he DID need me for something, he would have my mother tell me, even if I was standing right there.
So, I packed up my stuff in the middle of the night and got in my car, put the car in neutral and rolled backwards down the huge hill we lived on and I was GONE, baby. I don't remember how long I was actually out of my parents house. I'm thinking about six weeks or so. It wasn't exactly liberating or fulfilling. I did find my first full time job while I was "on my own" and I even worked a full and part time job during this time and tried to be an adult.
I eventually moved back once I realized I was living in a house full of crazy people. I lived with my parents for a few months, but at this point I had tasted the sweet nectar that is freedom, so it wasn't that long after I moved out on my own again. This time, with my boyfriend, who I later married. Once he joined the Navy, it was a lot of moving then. There were a few times I did make it back to my parent's house. Mainly, during deployments and stuff like that, staying with them for a few months because the thought of being alone while pregnant, or alone with a toddler, was too much for me imagination to take. Thoughts of cracking my head open because I slipped in the tub and my little toddler trying to wake me up, feeding me cheerios and tracking little bloody footprints everywhere for days on end, always got the best of me.
For a good portion of my adult life, I lived away. 900 miles away, with no family support and I got used to that. I was super awesome at TCB. When you have no one to depend on but yourself, you have to be. I was good at it. If a problem arose, I took care of it. Add to the fact that a lot of my marriage was spent with him gone overseas, I really had to bring it. It was just me and the kids, almost all the time and I liked it that way. I've always been an independent person, always doing things my way, so I was ok doing all this stuff without help.
Today, Aislinn called me from a neighbor's house because she left her key at home. I went to my boss, told her, counted down my drawer and left an hour early to fix this situation. It wasn't even until I got half way home that I realized that I could have called my mom who lives like 3 minutes away to help us out. The thought just never crossed my mind.
I have to remember that I am HOME now, and there are so many people who can help me. I don't HAVE to do it alone. I'm just so used to it, I don't know any other way.
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