I'm contemplating moving out. On my own.
Ever since I left M, I've been living with my mom. It's crowded and cluttered and chaotic. But free. I also get along much better with my mom than I did growing up, and I enjoy her company and getting to know my little brother (8 years younger than me!) a little better.
It can be very frustrating though. We seem to have reached an impasse at this point - my mom offered my sister (the one with whom M cheated on me) our couch to crash on for an undefined period of time coming up in a few weeks, after my sister gets back from a month long trip and is in between apartments.
I want to clarify by saying that my sister is not without other assistance - we have other family in the immediate area she could stay with during that time, and she has a reasonably substantial college fund which is more than enough to get her a new apartment quickly.
I, on the other hand, have few alternatives to being here. I have a child. I have no assets. My college fund was spent on - gasp - my first two years of college, and on paying marital expenses while M was working his way up at his job, up to and including our cross country move after we got married. I thought I was investing in our future, but it turned out he was just screwing me over. He left me with literally nothing but my child and our personal belongings.
I know that it has been four years since she betrayed me. It's been four years since she lied to my face, manipulated me, humiliated me. My mom feels that I should be "over it" and be able to place all of the blame on M (which I do place 75% of it on him - but I witnessed my sister's encouragement which I now recognize in hindsight, and I cannot absolve her from that 25%). She has never apologized to me, never said "I'm sorry for the role I played," "I'm sorry that I hurt you," "I did a terrible thing to you," nothing. She has tried to pretend like nothing happened, but it did. She was my best friend - the person I would have trusted my life with - and she did that to me. I can't forget it. I can't forgive it.
Yet my mom expects me to somehow be able to share a house with her? Share a bathroom with her? Share meals with her? Have her around my son? I leave the house when she comes over, or stay in my room. I don't answer the house phone when she calls, and I get extremely anxious when anyone talks about her. I simply can't do it. I can't. I can't. I can't.
So I've been looking into my other options. Section 8 housing is nixed - applications are not being accepted at the current time, and although the woman I talked to seemed to think they would be opening soon, the waiting list is two years. I'll be finished with nursing school (knock on wood!) by that time, and I fervently pray that I will have a job and be in no need of financial assistance of any type. They emailed me a list of other low-income housing options, though, and today I looked into one of those.
It's essentially "the projects." It's income adjusted housing. I went to find the apartment office and ran into three moms letting their kids play in the courtyard, and they were very sweet to me. They answered all my questions, and assured me that the apartments were livable although small. They said that they felt that they and their children were safe, and that there are barriers to renters with previous criminal and/or drug history living there. They shared how much they typically pay per month for utilities, and expressed how convenient it is to live downtown, basically within walking distance of everything. They said everyone is pretty friendly, and there are rules about excess noise that are rigidly enforced - so no thumping bass from somebody's car in the middle of the night. The office was closed, but I made an appointment to return on Monday to see about filling out an application. I was informed that there is a waiting list - there would be about 14 families ahead of me - and the nice women outside said that most people wait about 3 months before getting in.
After having several previous clashes with my mom regarding this same subject, I submitted my FAFSA for the 2011-2012 school year to say that my plans were to live off campus, to see if that would change my financial aid package at all to facilitate living by myself. I have yet to receive the package, so we'll see. A 3 month wait would mean I'd be moving just as school was starting, and by school I hopefully mean the nursing program provided that I get in. That would be stressful. But I will have gotten my financial aid at just about the right time to be able to pay deposits on utilities and things... it might just work out.
If it does... I have no furniture. None. M walked away with everything - all our furniture, all our appliances, all our dishes, everything, simply because the logistics of getting everything clear across the country when I had no place to store them didn't add up. But now that I might be needing them.. I'm seriously regretting that. There are thrift stores of course - I could make do or do without. I've gotten good at that. The only problem is if I find furniture at a thrift store... how am I supposed to put it in my apartment by myself? I haven't been very good at attending church, so I don't have a support system that way.. my dad is kind of old and frail.. my mom and step dad might help, if they're not too mad that I'm moving out in the first place. I just don't know. I don't know.
I just need to focus on getting through the next few weeks - getting the application, getting on the wait list, and see where it goes from there. I'm going to have to endure my sister being here no matter what, so I'm just going to have to have my Xanax in hand and man up. Nothing I can do about that. But I've been living at home for about a year and a half now and I'm honestly scared to be back out on my own. I'm scared to stress about utilities and if I locked the door and what that bumping noise was. I haven't ever lived by myself - always with roommates, or married. You know what, though? I may struggle with my self confidence regarding relationships, but I know for a fact from all of the crap I've been through that I can do scary things.