[Image shows three spoons on a laptop keyboard. Overlaid is a clipart or torn white notebook paper with a red paper clip. On the paper in black text reads “Moving Out” with a small clipart of a house with a blue roof. Beneath the paper is the url for Thee Crohnie Grace is dark red text.]
Weeks ago I sat outside on a bench catching pokemon with my friend and talking about how I really wanted to move out and feel more like an adult, take that next step to independence. I mostly was just rambling, not super serious, but he took the idea and ran with it.
A week later he was messaging me showing me places he and his boyfriend were looking at and including my friend, Evan, and his friend Logan. I was extremely anxious, they seemed quite serious about it, and honestly I was just looking for an excuse to not move out.
But then he showed me this really nice apartment, not very accessible by no means, but there was 4 bedrooms, 2 and 1/2 bath, very spacious. The neighborhood was really nice and friendly, there were two med students, an old veteran, and a nice elderly couple.
Before I knew it I was agreeing. I was extremely anxious. As a medically complex person, who deeply relies on her mom and grandma for transport and medical care, moving out on my own came with a world of problems that the others didn’t have to think about.
For example, none of them would really know what to do in the case of me having a medical emergency. If my ostomy leaked, I had my grandma to help me clean up, and calm me down. I won’t have that. If I need to go to the emergency room, I may be home alone and have to call my grandma. On bad days, I may not be able to make it up the stairs to even get to my room.
I won’t have someone to remind me to take my medication, to start a feed, to try to eat, to drink, etc. But I wanted to feel independent, to have my own place, to accomplish that much, even if it doesn’t work out in the long run.
Regardless, Friday we went to talk to the landlord to fill out papers for our place. My mom, step father, and brother helped me move my stuff in and my brother helped put together the futons for the living room. Within a day, I was moved in, and it felt good.
[Images shows a collage of photos. Starting at the top left: First image shows my bed with blue, grey and yellow covers, pillow, and blankets. Including a pillow that says “Wild at Heart”. Second image shows the dining room, there is a stone fireplace, a nice wooden table with four chairs, and in the center of the table is a small potted plant with cacti and succulents. The third image shows my brother laying on just the futon mattress with two pillows whilst playing on his phone. In the second row, starting to the left is a cabinet filled with red dishes and cups and white bowls. The second image on the second row shows an end table with a lamp and says in blue text “Say yes to new adventures”. The last image in that row is double glass doors from the back patio. In the third row on the left is the kitchen, including a dishwasher, sink, lots of cabinets and a oven/stove. Then a photo of the bathroom before we got a shower curtain, featuring the pinkish tan bathtub and toilet, and the cream marbled sink. And the final photo shows the windows in the living room with Micheal standing in the edge.]
The boys are still working on moving in their stuff. I haven’t stayed there as often as they have though despite being mostly moved in. Since the majority of my medical stuff is still at my grandma’s. Not to mention the doctors appointments, and the recent ER visit which I will cover in another post.
There will be a lot of new challenged with moving out, there’s still a lot I have to learn to do on my own, but I always know that if I need help or someone to lean on that my family will always be there. I have a great support system, with out them none of this would be possible.
[Image shows me wrapped up in a grey, blue, yellow and white blanket, laying my head on my pillow that says “Wild at Heart”]