As I have mentioned before, I just graduated from college this past May.
I loved college so much I turned my 4 year experience into 5 (by adding a sociology double major...I am sure that will come in handy ;) )
In those 5 long, glorious years away from home I truly was independent. I was lucky to have my own living space for all of college. I think I only spent 2 semesters out of my 10 with actual roommates (as in share an actual room, roommates). I lived 3 hours from my hometown which personally I think is perfect...It provided the perfect balance between being close enough that I could go home for a weekend just because I felt like it but I didn't have to worry about any unexpected visits from my family.
Also, after my first year of college I have paid for everything. A combination of loans and financial aid and odd jobs paid for my tuition, room, board, books, spending money, EVERYTHING, for the past four years. It wasn't easy but it wasn't exactly a terrible struggle either.
I loved this life. I loved not having to answer to anyone. I didn't have to tell anyone where I was going or what I was buying. Everything in my life was mine, I didn't have to share, I didn't owe anything to anyone else. I was as close to an independent woman as any undergraduate could be.
And then May came. I had just finished school and I was 5 months pregnant, jobless, homeless...single.
My only realistic option was to move back home. So I did.
At first it was like any other holiday and then...it just kept going...and it still is.
I haven't had a job since I have left school so I have spent a lot of time doing...well nothing. Any money I had at one point has completely dwindled down to nothing.
I went from everything in my life being MINE to nothing in my life being MINE.
My car is my dad's. My room is my dad's. This glass that I am drinking tea out of is my dad's. Even the tea is my dad's.
I have to give my sister rides because, after all, it's NOT MY car. I have to cook dinner because it is the least I can do for having a place to live.
It's not that I am unappreciative. Honestly, my dad's expectations are not even unreasonable.
I just miss MY LIFE. MY THINGS.
I miss having control.
Realistically, I am thinking it will be January before I am back on my feet and NEXT August is the soonest I can even consider moving on...
How am I going to survive?
Baby, please come distract me.
-19 Days Until Baby