Confession
I am 26 years old, single, private college-educated, possess a master’s degree, have a great job, witty, intelligent, attractive, emotionally mature, fun, kind, good, moral, and shave and bathe regularly. I have also never lived alone.
Not that it was meant to be such. I was supposed to go off to college and learn to live on my own, but my dad got sick so I stayed at home and went to school in town. After graduating and getting a good job I was supposed to go be the single girl in an apartment, but either financial issues rendered the need for a roommate or emotional needs were fulfilled with the presence of a live-in boyfriend. The last of the boyfriends up until that point then popped the question, turning the roommate/boyfriend/fiance situation into the solid husband/nuclear family/household partner status.
I’ve signed a couple leases in my day, but when I bought my first house I thought I was going to die. The numbers swirling around the inspection, mortgage, closing costs, broker’s fees, property taxes, and homestead exemption made my head spin. I literally suffered a panic attack during the closing. My x fulfilled his husbandly duties and pointed gracefully to the blank spots for me to sign, all the while fanning me with triplicate copies of who knows what to prevent me from fainting. Our modest $131,000 home would be paid for over 5 times at the end of that 30 yr. mortgage. No one should ever show you that number. Ever.
I now feel that fear again. Since leaving the x, I’ve been on standby at my mom’s. My original moving day of September has long passed by. Rent= free. Utilities= free. Food in the fridge= fair game. This would indicate a significant savings on my part, but who knows what I’ve been doing with that money (okay smartasses, I’ve been drinking it). My mental health has similarly declined. I am all of the things above, but why can I not be independent? I agonize over this confession, for that I know I really am scared to come home to an empty place, excluding furry beast. I am afraid that I will be the girl who accidentally died, but was only found weeks later due to a strange odor and after her dog had eaten her for survival. I am afraid of paying rent without equity. I am afraid that I won’t be able to get to fly out of town on a whim when I need to escape this dull city. I am afraid of budgeting and living within my means, as I pretty much have none.
That being said, I sucked it up and put down the deposit this morning on a cute 1/1 across from a dog park. I felt an instant need to have a drink, but there is no vodka in the office (damn it!). I have 72 hours to change my mind. What would you do?