I don't know who to talk to about some things.
My family (okay, my sisters. It isn't much of a family at all, but my sisters, yeah.) are okay, but there are some things that you just can't, you know.
The people I'm moving in with are now too close for me to get outside opinions.
My friends would be the obvious choice. And often they are who I go to just out of habit and need. But, despite most of them being older than me, because I have a late birthday, they are all still so young. None of them have had to grow up yet really. So all these things that are happening that I am worried about, I'm kind of lost with.
This blog is my last place.
Although the only people who read it are in the categories above, this thing is for me.
I can't help but feel I've made another mistake.
I move out of my flat this weekend. I'm giving up my independence again. I have no idea when I'm going to get that back. I feel like I am losing a piece of me - one that is actually kind of important. Ever since I made the decision I have found reason after reason as to why it is a bad idea. It's too late to turn back.
This has actually been one of my biggest decisions to make, more so than when I moved out of my mum's.
Because when I did that, I'd already been gone for years really. Constantly thrown out like the chocolate wrappers from what she scoffs, and left to stumble around in the night, rarely mentioning because it was 'just a misunderstanding' staying at friends when things were really bad, or, if I had one at the time, a boyfriend's as often as possible, and going back there as little as humanly possible just to get away.
I don't think I really even noticed when I actually ended up moving out. I don't think my mum did either. Except for when she stopped receiving as much money to waste on things.
I don't know.
I can just see this blowing up in my face. I think it may already have done.
Just have to keep remembering that this won't seem bad in the future, because by then it will have sorted itself out.
I'm very worried.