I am 25 years old. I've lived with my grandparents for the past 10 years. I moved in with them due to issues with my mother being an alcoholic and things generally being unstable in that environment. My grandma has always been controlling. I hated jobs I've had but stayed there for fear of her being mad at me for quitting. Any time I didn't show up at work or school, she would be highly upset with me; often ignoring me for days and threatening to kick me out of the house. I know she means well by it. My grandpa is also a chain smoker of cigars, which worries me about my health, but that's another story. Growing up, I isolated myself from friends. When I wasn't working or going to school, I chose to stay at home and be online for the most part. It wasn't until, maybe, four years ago that I started to open up and enjoy activities outside of the house. I have one really good friend (that I used to date for two years) who really helped me get out there. He's very supportive in everything that I do; although his opinion can be a bit biased as he still has strong feelings for me.
Flash forward to this year. I've had the idea of moving 400 miles away to New York City for years. I used to be best friends with a girl online who lived in that area, and I always imagined myself moving there to be closer to her. Recently, she decided she does not want to be friends with me anymore because of something I did a few years back. Well, the idea of moving to NYC still exists in my mind. I am not sure if the reason being is because I've had it impounded in my head for so long or if I truly have the desire to go. I find the idea of living in the city to be exciting and adventurous. I love the tall buildings, history, crowds, and all that comes with living in a big city.
Last month I had found the perfect apartment. It was a little too far uptown in Manhattan than I would like but I could deal with that. It was a roommate situation, which scared me a bit because the only roommates I've had most of my life were my grandparents. I tend to be a bit awkward in social situations, but I am A LOT better than I used to be. Anyway, it turns out the potential roommate was from the area I am currently living in and would be home for the holidays to visit her family. It seemed like fate, right? She was very nice and down to earth. The apartment looked beautiful. I was convinced I was going to move.
Flash forward to two days ago (January 15th). My move date was January 16th and my nerves were on edge. I was an emotional mess. I cried at the drop of a hat and kept looking around my grandparents house and telling myself "this would be the last time I do this" when it came to drinking coffee in the mornings, doing laundry, etc. I now considered my move more of a vacation; telling my family I would be back in a few months. I became confused as to why I wanted to make the move. Was moving somewhere because it seemed exciting a good enough reason? I could not make up my mind on what I wanted to do at this point. It would be so much easier to stay home.
The day of moving, I cried and cried and cried until the flesh under my eyes felt raw. I kept thinking this would be the last time I saw my family (although I know Skype, texting, emails, phone calls existed). I was thinking something bad would happen to them if I left. The stress of it all made me physically sick. I've always suffered from stomach aches when stress was in play (like starting a new job or a new semester in college), but this was unbearable. It felt like someone was wringing my insides and it made me crouch over in pain. I'm guessing what I had was a panic attack as my heart was also beating very fast and I was shaking.
The potential roommate was obviously disappointed. She relied on my half of rent and utilities to get by and did not pursue finding a roommate after we met. She asks that I send her a check for the $500 security deposit.
Although the idea of moving caused all of these mixed emotions and pain, I am left with regret. For years I wanted to move and I was unable to do it. I had the perfect opportunity and I blew it. I guess my question is, what's wrong with me? Is it not the right time for me to move? How do I overcome these emotional feelings about leaving my family? What should I do?
I am envious of people who are able to just pick up and go. I know I am an adventurous person at heart but these thoughts and panic are crippling me. The anxiety hasn't gone away neither. I am still upset (more so now because I didn't have the courage to move) and very tense. The packed up boxes in my room are also not helpin