Blog

Stories from a life in progress.

Moving

I've been cowardly lately, and it's been shriveling up my writing and it's time to stop. In this space for standing up and talking about real life, I have not wanted to say that I am moving. I'm leaving my apartment and living with my family. The house is my parents', but I see a much larger cross-section of family regularly from here than I do from my solitary space. I really moved a couple of months ago, when my anxiety troubles were at their worst, informally and not expecting a long-term stay, but it's becoming formal. I've given notice to my landlord, and have started shifting chunks of my belongings.

I've been avoiding saying it here. I thought about never saying it at all. But the reason why is not a good one, and for that I have to say it. I'm not letting a lurking, cowardly motivation stand.

I'm afraid to write that I'm moving to live with my parents and family because I think the people who read what I say in this space will say "wow, what a loser she is."

But it's not even about other people. The fear just dresses itself up that way. What I am really afraid of is that I actually am a loser.

So, maybe that is true and maybe it isn't. I don't have an answer for that today.

If I am a loser, I am going to stand up and be a loser in front of the world. No more cowardice.

If I'm not, then it's irrelevant and I have better things to do and worry about. Stuff doesn't move itself, and blogs don't write themselves, and household work doesn't finish itself. Time to get to it.