Sweet n Salty
Home Away From Home
I picked up Salt In My Soul and started reading it again. I've been so bad about reading, and I have a huge pile of books I need to work my way through (enough to last me the year)! But reading it made me a little sad... Mallory went to Stanford, and her orientation week sounded like a blast, and she got involved in so many activities. It reminded me of orientation at Eckerd in St. Pete, FL. The feeling of being accepted and receiving a scholarship from my dream school was absolute bliss. Being involved in something bigger than me, like that, was incredible. It was so much fun to meet new people, and check out the campus, and see what my classes were going to be like. The campus was absolutely stunning (it had it's own private beach, a loading dock with boats, a small inlet from the ocean where they frequently saw dolphins and manatees, hammocks between palm trees along the white sand, pine trees, an incredible marine biology lab, etc.).
And as the time grew closer, the more I realized I wasn't ready to move that far away from home. I didn't know what it was like to live on my own, I didn't have any family nearby (there was a family friend, a couple of hours away, in Orlando); I didn't have any friends there. I didn't even look into medical or CF centers in the area, so I have no idea what that would have looked like. I had my two cats, Simba and Lily, and I had to live in the dorm rooms my freshman year, and was only allowed one pet in the dorm with me. I was scared and didn't know how to take care of myself, by myself. So I opted to take a year off. Then I would go back in 2012. I would be ready by then!
But then 2012 came... and I still wasn't ready. I'd just gotten out of the first major, long-term relationship of my life, I was still with my parents at home. And I was still scared to be on my own. So then I started looking closer to home... and I settled on San Diego. I had been there before and I loved it! Plus it was only a 7 hour drive/1 hour plane ride away from home so I wasn't that far. I remember the trip I took out there with my mom and my sister, to scope out the place. I fell in love. Maybe not as much as I had with St. Pete, but I could certainly see myself living there! I think the first trip was really just for fun... Then I went out there a few more times - to apply for jobs, and to look for a place to live. I honestly can't remember which one I found first (I think it was the apartment), but the other wasn't far behind! The excitement was getting real. I was going to live there for a year, get residency, and then start applying to schools to major in marine bio.
My apartment wasn't right by the beach, like I had wanted it to be (it was about 20-30 minutes away), but it was a cute, comfy, one bedroom for a reasonable price (reasonable by CA's terms). It was a bottom, corner unit. It faced a quaint little court-yard with exotic flowers and tall palm trees. It had a washer/dryer room on site, and was in a nice neighborhood. There was a grocery store right around the corner. It was only 5 minutes from the freeway. My first job was only 10 minutes away, and it seemed like the perfect job for me (an 'office assistant' for a telecommunications woman, I think - honestly, to this day, I'm still unclear on exactly what her job was, and not long after I started working for her, I started to even question what the hell I was doing there).
I remember the excitement of hunting down some furniture, and putting my life together. I got a new bed (because 'my' bed at my parents house was really an antique that they were letting me use until I left, much to my dismay. Which actually ended up turning out OK because I ended up with a much better bed in the end), and I found myself a couch with a fold-out bed on Craigslist for pretty cheap. I packed my entire life away in a U-haul, my mom's van, and my car, and made the 7 hour trek to my new life as a resident of California! My mom has a really good sense of decorating and organization, so my dad stayed in a hotel while my mom and sister stayed at my place (it was pretty cool saying that), helping me unpack, and decorate. We went to a TWO-STORY Wal-Mart (who knew!?) and bought >$200 worth of necessities for my new home (home decor for my bathroom, basically everything I needed to furnish an entire kitchen, food, etc.).
The hardest feeling was watching my family pack up, and drive away, when it was all said and done. I had never been on my own before. I had lived with my parents, and my sister, every day of my life, for the past 19 years. It was heart-wrenching to see my entire support system load up in my mom's van and drive away. 7 hours away. I cried. I asked them to stay one more day. I thought I had said goodbye, but I ran out of my apartment, through the courtyard, and across the small parking lot, to the street, to catch them, and say goodbye one more time. I committed to memory each hug. I can still feel their arms around me, and the giant lump in my throat, as I write this. And I cried some more. But I couldn't keep crying. Because my new boss was expecting me at my first day of work in a couple of hours. I didn't have time to cry! But I did. Even after I got settled in at 'the office' (which was really just her house), I snuck away to the bathroom to cry some more. And I called my mom to tell her how much I missed her. I whispered 'I don't think I can do this', as I looked at my red face in the mirror, crying silently, so my new boss couldn't hear me. I remember my mom saying, 'Honey, it's only been a couple of hours. You're going to have to get used to this, but you can do it.' So I busied myself with work. And when the work day was over, and I started to drive home, I saw the most beautiful sunset. I think I still have the picture on my old phone, somewhere.
I hung in there for a year. But then I had to come back home. My health was declining to the point I couldn't live on my own, and my depression was escalating: I was miserable. It's another story for another time. But even though I was miserable at the time, looking back, it was the peak of my life.
And as the time grew closer, the more I realized I wasn't ready to move that far away from home. I didn't know what it was like to live on my own, I didn't have any family nearby (there was a family friend, a couple of hours away, in Orlando); I didn't have any friends there. I didn't even look into medical or CF centers in the area, so I have no idea what that would have looked like. I had my two cats, Simba and Lily, and I had to live in the dorm rooms my freshman year, and was only allowed one pet in the dorm with me. I was scared and didn't know how to take care of myself, by myself. So I opted to take a year off. Then I would go back in 2012. I would be ready by then!
But then 2012 came... and I still wasn't ready. I'd just gotten out of the first major, long-term relationship of my life, I was still with my parents at home. And I was still scared to be on my own. So then I started looking closer to home... and I settled on San Diego. I had been there before and I loved it! Plus it was only a 7 hour drive/1 hour plane ride away from home so I wasn't that far. I remember the trip I took out there with my mom and my sister, to scope out the place. I fell in love. Maybe not as much as I had with St. Pete, but I could certainly see myself living there! I think the first trip was really just for fun... Then I went out there a few more times - to apply for jobs, and to look for a place to live. I honestly can't remember which one I found first (I think it was the apartment), but the other wasn't far behind! The excitement was getting real. I was going to live there for a year, get residency, and then start applying to schools to major in marine bio.
My apartment wasn't right by the beach, like I had wanted it to be (it was about 20-30 minutes away), but it was a cute, comfy, one bedroom for a reasonable price (reasonable by CA's terms). It was a bottom, corner unit. It faced a quaint little court-yard with exotic flowers and tall palm trees. It had a washer/dryer room on site, and was in a nice neighborhood. There was a grocery store right around the corner. It was only 5 minutes from the freeway. My first job was only 10 minutes away, and it seemed like the perfect job for me (an 'office assistant' for a telecommunications woman, I think - honestly, to this day, I'm still unclear on exactly what her job was, and not long after I started working for her, I started to even question what the hell I was doing there).
I remember the excitement of hunting down some furniture, and putting my life together. I got a new bed (because 'my' bed at my parents house was really an antique that they were letting me use until I left, much to my dismay. Which actually ended up turning out OK because I ended up with a much better bed in the end), and I found myself a couch with a fold-out bed on Craigslist for pretty cheap. I packed my entire life away in a U-haul, my mom's van, and my car, and made the 7 hour trek to my new life as a resident of California! My mom has a really good sense of decorating and organization, so my dad stayed in a hotel while my mom and sister stayed at my place (it was pretty cool saying that), helping me unpack, and decorate. We went to a TWO-STORY Wal-Mart (who knew!?) and bought >$200 worth of necessities for my new home (home decor for my bathroom, basically everything I needed to furnish an entire kitchen, food, etc.).
The hardest feeling was watching my family pack up, and drive away, when it was all said and done. I had never been on my own before. I had lived with my parents, and my sister, every day of my life, for the past 19 years. It was heart-wrenching to see my entire support system load up in my mom's van and drive away. 7 hours away. I cried. I asked them to stay one more day. I thought I had said goodbye, but I ran out of my apartment, through the courtyard, and across the small parking lot, to the street, to catch them, and say goodbye one more time. I committed to memory each hug. I can still feel their arms around me, and the giant lump in my throat, as I write this. And I cried some more. But I couldn't keep crying. Because my new boss was expecting me at my first day of work in a couple of hours. I didn't have time to cry! But I did. Even after I got settled in at 'the office' (which was really just her house), I snuck away to the bathroom to cry some more. And I called my mom to tell her how much I missed her. I whispered 'I don't think I can do this', as I looked at my red face in the mirror, crying silently, so my new boss couldn't hear me. I remember my mom saying, 'Honey, it's only been a couple of hours. You're going to have to get used to this, but you can do it.' So I busied myself with work. And when the work day was over, and I started to drive home, I saw the most beautiful sunset. I think I still have the picture on my old phone, somewhere.
I hung in there for a year. But then I had to come back home. My health was declining to the point I couldn't live on my own, and my depression was escalating: I was miserable. It's another story for another time. But even though I was miserable at the time, looking back, it was the peak of my life.