OK, so one of the biggest confessions is that I don’t think it would be a good for me to live alone. Now usually I say things like budgets, culture, and just general, “it’s not the right time” but in reality it’s more than I’m afraid of my depression symptoms. My family has no problem with me living with them, and in my mom’s culture it’s actually pretty rare for a woman who is unmarried to live alone. Each of my mom’s sisters lived with their parents until they were married and my mom only left early to go live with her sister after her sister got a divorce so she could help take care of my cousin. Now my family never had the expectation of me to live with them, but they never said that I couldn’t. My dad has even openly said that if I wanna live with them forever, he’s perfectly fine with that. My mom agrees with him so long as it means that I’m living with them because I want to and not because, I think I need to take care of them like unmarried daughters are expected to in her culture. But the truth is the idea of living alone is an awful one to me. I have dealt with my depression symptoms for so long that I’ve picked out two or three ways to hurt myself. If I ever got to that point, and each of them revolve around being alone. If I’m with my family, I’m never alone. Not to be extent that would be necessary for those ideas. But then every once in a while we get a day where I just can’t get out of bed because I’m sick or because I’m having bad symptoms or etc. and my family still does things and goes out and is productive. It days like those when I’m alone that I realize how much of my self-care is very performative. I don’t take care of myself because I need to take care of myself. I take care of myself because I don’t want my parents to worry about me. I shower and get dressed because my mom worries when I stay in bed all day. I eat every day because nothing I have ever done had scared my mom more than the day I collapsed and I couldn’t remember the last time I ate. I take care of myself, so my mom doesn’t worry about me, so my dad doesn’t worry about me. And I’m afraid that if I lived alone, if there wasn’t somebody around to see me every day and know that something was wrong with me and worry about me. I would stop taking care of myself all together.
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The thought of living alone is often a little frightening for me, I know how dark my own head space has gotten and to have that freely roam around could be a recipe for disaster. I’m not saying you should branch out on your own or stay in the comfort of living with someone, but I hope at one point you feel like you’re worth it and doing things is not just for others benefit. Doing things that make you feel fulfilled and smiling without even thinking about i, but it is hard for some and you look like you are making progress towards it.
Thanks for sharing this part of your life and I hope you have a great day.
Moving out doesn’t have to mean living alone. Is there a community, church or school or whatever, where you could find roommates? Move in with friends?
Do you like animals? If your self-care needs the motivation from other people’s worries, I wonder if having the responsibility of a cat or dog who needs you and showers you with love and attention, if that would help. They’ll let you know when they’re hungry, and you can remember to feed yourself when you feed them. A dog will need walks, which would get you outside and active, at least a little, and sunshine itself is So Good For You.
Maybe it’s a terrible idea, but if having outside motivation can make a difference, having a creature who depends on you might help. You need to take care of yourself because Fluffy needs you. Maybe that’s also something you could look at while you live with your parents? An emotional support animal who needs your support? Something that gives you that reason to get out of bed when you can’t for yourself?