And I have just payed the down payment on my first apartment. I mean. It may be uni digs but look at me being an adult and moving out.
I did the BIG UNI SHOP yesterday and it was mental. I own a toaster, and a Pyrex jug now. And about a hundred other things that I have nowhere to put right for the time being.
Yesterday was a bit of an emotional rollercoaster. I am hyperaware that if Emmet had stayed this would not be my reality. Also my Mum is all ‘my baby is moving out’ and I’m here thinking hallelujah! I am free! I can escape the daily expectations and stupid insensitive comments of my family. While she is a bit sad.
I mean. I love my Mum. She is a great Mum. But also. The environment lately has not been one of fostered understanding re. Emmet. Otherwise known as ‘I can’t imagine being a grandparent at this age’. And continued pregnancy jokes that trivialize everything that has happened in my life the past year and does not make me want to tell them anything about having been pregnant.
I didn’t feel they were emotionally available in October and even less so now, which sucks. When something goes majorly wrong in my life my first port of call has always been my Mum. Except since October it hasn’t.
I have learnt to rely on myself, my partner and my friends. My family haven’t factored into that support network in quite the way I wish they had.
They don’t even realise they do it, to them it is funny because ‘it is so inconceivable that this could possibly happen to anyone in our family. Look at Zoe she is So Sensible. That is definitely something that happens to other people.” etc…
And for them yeah, it probably is. I delayed telling them anything until I had made up my mind about the whole situation I was in, and told my partner. Neither of which ended up happening because it was all over so soon and in the space of 3 days my life took a U turn and then I was thrown into a life very different from the one I had imagined when I saw that positive test.
Now nearly a year later I still have no idea how to go about telling my family so I don’t. Part of me longs to, and the other part that listens to all the shit they say would prefer to flee and not tell them.
I would do anything to trade the toaster and the pyrex jug for nappies and babygrows.
I am looking forward to my University course. I am excited to move out and to start on my own and to begin a new chapter of my life, but also. I am dreading it, not because I am worried about living on my own or making friends or cooking, but because this is a huge slap in the face that Emmet isn’t here.
Every single thing about preparing for university is a reminder that he is gone. Everything. And I know that sound really pessimistic, but right now that is how it feels.
I want to feel excited and privileged to be able to go and I am. But also. I am not.