The prospect of moving creates in most everyone a whirlwind of emotions. Some are practical ‘When will I move? I have to plan this..’
Some about a sense of home ‘I loved this place, I’ll miss it. I hope this new place will be home too.’
Some are purely excited ‘Cat, cat, cat!’
Some are so firmly irrational it’s hard to pick them apart and find out how they relate to the move.

I got the news that I might be able to move into a brand new house with 2 other girls. The house looks great. The girls seems great (we met once). There will even be a house cat! (YAY) All these positive things and yet I feel an anxiety that grips my chest and squeezes until I forget all the positive things. Why?

It took me a day and a half to figure that out. Sure.. The area is a soulless place. It has high crime rates. A lot of burglaries happen in that building in particular. The building makes me sad for whomever has to dwell in it’s concrete confines. But none of that is worth more than a halfhearted shrug.

Instead I hate this area. I hate it so much I can’t even fake the lighthearted positivity with which I approach most other things in life. I now realise that it has nothing to do with the area itself. It has to do with the past.

I lived in this area during the last year of my last relationship. It was a time and place where I felt deeply isolated. Where I felt lonely and unhappy down to my bones. My cat and GT the only things to keep me sane when I was alone there. It feels like moving there will be taking a step back. After having fought to get away from that place, both emotionally and geographically, I’ll live down the street from him. As if it was all for nothing. As if I’ve failed. Ran and climbed only to end up back where I started from. I see my future self weeping on the floor from this chilling feeling of loneliness, clawing away the happiness I’ve built so far. I fear it. Even though it’s hardly rational. That place has nothing to do with my history.. Yet I feel it.

I feel pushed because I have no other options. The other option is that I’ll move all my things into storage this weekend or next, move back to my parents house and start all over. Yet that feels less restricting..

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I feel locked because I realistically know that I won’t be able to find what I’m looking for. The amount of luck or network necessary in order to find what I want doesn’t exist in this world. So I should settle. Somehow. This is how.

Tomorrow the 3 of us will go over to view the apartment (which I haven’t seen yet) and sign the contract. It’s all moving tremendously fast. I still have questions about the contract that I’m really hoping to get answered. I’m also hoping we can delay the signing of the contract with these questions.. This is a selfish wish. I know this.

I feel ethically obligated to sign and move. One of the two girls is in an awkward position and if I’d say no now, the whole thing would probably fall through.. I also never get chosen.. so I feel that I should grab the chance that is given to me.

There are always a lot of emotions surrounding a move.
Some are practical ‘Is this contract fair? Can I afford this?’
Some are happy ‘I can finally decorate! These people are so nice, I’m sure we’ll get along so well!’
And some? Some are irrational. Defective even.

‘This place will make you as unhappy as you were before. RUN.’

I wonder. Was I so relieved to be able to stop searching that I jumped at a home that isn’t right for me? Or am I so fearful that I’m souring an opportunity that could turn out great? Am I putting another’s needs above my own again or am I ruining my own happiness? Either side seem equally likely.

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If only there was a manual outlining which feelings we should listen too. It would make moving so much easier.

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Afterthought : It doesn’t help that I just had a viewing in a part of town I LOVE with a decent sized room and a roof terrace for a lower price. Where I’ll never get picked because I’m a decade older than some of the other girls that attended..