I’ve been living on my own since May. It’s been a whole summer of T time. B and I moved in together in the spring of 2015 and we’ve lived together ever since. I had roommates every year in college and then lived at home before. I’ve never truly lived alone until now, but it’s been an incredible and healthy experience. There’s so many positive things that have come out of living alone, but it hasn’t all been rainbows and butterflies. Let’s get real, some things are amazing, but some things feel kind of pathetic and sad.
I’m an independent lady who makes her own plans and schedule. Being on my own makes my schedule more flexible for cancellations or plan changes altogether. If I want to go to the movies by myself in the middle of my day off, I do it. I can take my time walking around Target, browsing for a couple of hours even if I’m only there for packing tape.
My cleaning habits have become way better. B and I usually share the responsibility of household chores, but since it’s just me maintaining our place, I have to be really diligent about it. Being a slob sucks, so I’ve started cleaning in the mornings before I start getting ready for work and incorporating small chores into my night routine. Plus, I’m currently trying out this process where if a task takes less than 5 minutes, you do it immediately. It’s been surprisingly helpful!
I’m becoming more responsible in general. I’m more diligent about paying my bills on time. I meal plan most of the time so I can make sure I’m eating meals that won’t upset my stomach or spike my sugar. Basically, I’m taking better care of myself. I take more time for myself. Nothing is better than self care. And I’m not saying that in a way to imply self care cures my depression or something. It makes me feel better some days and is a reminder I need to take care of myself. I don’t know why it took me living on my own for me to realize if I don’t take care of myself, no one else will. Here are some things I do when I’m not sure what to do for myself.
When I’m anxious (which I often am), there’s no one at home to help me relax or distract myself. And by no one, I mean B. I love being on my own and having Tara time, but I miss having my best friend around.
Sometimes I make too much food and there’s no one here to help me finish it. That’s not a real problem. I could learn to make less food. I could freeze it. I’m just used to having B around to help me make sure nothing goes to waste. We’re both definitely emotional eaters though. Maybe we need to learn to cook for two more strictly…
The other half of our bed becomes a storage area for headphones, my ipad, tv remotes, sometimes clean laundry. There’s nothing quite like rolling over and accidentally turning on the tv only to fry your retinas.
If I’m not feeling well, I’m on my own. For example, I goofed up my ankle last Wednesday and have been struggling since. I’ve had B’s amazing family for support and company, but I don’t want to burden them with my situation. I guess I don’t want to burden B either, but when B broke his foot last year, I was still there to make him comfortable and keep our household going. Now I’m flying solo and I miss his comforting company more than anything because I’m in pain. I’m still managing and feeling better right now, but it’s hard to handle it on my own. I’ve never had to deal with health issue like this on my own before.