Does Moving Home Mean Moving Backwards?

High school was rough for me.  I rebelled against almost everything my parents wanted.  I didn’t get the grades they liked, didn’t join any clubs or sports, had the wrong friends, and did not one thing right.  I resented being controlled and watched over all the time – it ate away at me and made me a very bitter human.

The freedom of college was unbelievably sweet to me.  I learned things about myself that I feel were suppressed when I was stuck living under the law of my parents. I grew into an adult that could take care of herself. I got good grades, all on my own.  I joined so many clubs and took so many initiatives to make amazing friends.  I became better acquainted with my family.  I overall knew who I was and liked that person.

Then I graduated and then I moved back home. At first, I didn’t think anything would be that different from being at school.  I had become sort of a grandma towards the end of my senior year so I wasn’t going to miss drinking four days a week minimum.  I also wasn’t going to miss spending so much money on food and unnecessary things.

When I first got home, my normal life continued.  I spent the weekends with my friends and spent my days unpacking and running errands.  But that all slowed down and since I don’t have any friends from high school – I got bored.

And when I got bored I got nagged about getting all of my unpacking done, or about why I didn’t clean up the kitchen, or about when I was going to get a job. All things I would’ve done at my own stress-free pace at school, but impossible at home.  Then I got sick and the difference between being sick at home and at school blew my mind. I’ve gone to the doctor’s at least 4 times, whereas at school I was lucky if I made it to the Minute Clinic at all. My mom cooked all my meals, washed all my clothes, and doted on me as I wallowed on the couch for days at a time.  At school – if I was awake long enough I would text my friends to get me a gatorade and still make it to the bar that night even when running a fever.

My dog is the only one who hangs out with me.  My parents annoy me with every word they say to me.  I’m alone a lot, but can’t seem to get enough alone time. I resent being controlled and watched over all the time – it’s eating away at me and making me a very bitter human, once again.  Will all the progress I’ve gained in college slowly disappear with each month I’m living at my parent’s house?

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