I did it. It’s been exactly 365 days since I packed up (I didn’t really pack. I brought a suitcase of clothes) and headed out on my next adventure. All in all, it’s been a good year and I’m confident the decision to move was a good one. But in retrospect, there are some things I’d do differently given another chance; things I know would’ve helped my mental health quite a bit.
Bring More Stuff From Home
When I say I arrived at my apartment with a suitcase, I mean that. I walked into an empty apartment. The only thing there was a LoveSac I had shipped ahead. I didn’t even have the Internet—and wouldn’t for a few weeks. (Side note: My incredibly poor planning meant that I spent the first few weeks in a hotel.)
When I left home, I told myself that I didn’t want to bring anything from home because everything there reminded me of my OCD. I wanted to start fresh. It was a rationale thought, but not true. In reality, I was avoiding an opportunity for an exposure. By wiping the slate clean, I was ensuring I wouldn’t bring anything “contaminated” to my new home. I wanted to start off on the right foot and knew that if I brought something that caused compulsive thoughts, I’d spend the first few weeks struggling. I wanted to avoid that. At all costs.
If I had to do it again, I’d fight through the avoidance and bring any and everything that reminded me of my OCD. I know the impact exposure response therapy (ERP) can have on OCD and it was dumb to neglect another opportunity to kick OCD’s butt.
Control My Impulsivity
Three weeks. That’s the amount of time between when I decided and when my landlord handed me the keys. If you read my post about buying a ticket for a cruise, you know I struggle with my impulse control. This is another example. Impulse control is something I struggle mightily with and this is certainly a prime example. While I knew the move was a good life decision, I also knew the serotonin that’d come with it. But once again, I failed to account for the inevitable downfall a few days later.
Due to my impulsivity, I ended up making a very poor financial decision. Like really poor and one that added an incredible amount of stress to my life (sorry, Mom and Dad). The high ticket price for my apartment along with the exorbitant cost of living in Hoboken was compounded by the fact that I didn’t have a job. While I don’t regret making the move, I’d have been better off spending more time searching for a more cost-effective place to live. My bank account would have thanked me.
Go Outside (Literally)
I spent a year in my apartment. For about half of that, I didn’t do much of anything. No exploring. No walks along the Hudson. No cafe-hopping or hefty doses of vitamin D. Instead, I opted for Netflix. Oh, and a ridiculous amount of job interviews.
While a lot of this isolation was due to the pandemic, there wasn’t anything stopping me from ridding myself of my hobbit-esque living. The sidewalks along the Hudson certainly didn’t close. I avoided them nonetheless, and thinking back to these first months, it was a lot like my life at home. I was letting OCD win.
I don’t remember what made me “get out” for the first time, but once I did, I kept going and things got progressively better. I’ll chalk this up as a slow start, but a win in the end.
Moving Out: The Best Decision I’ve Ever Made
There’s not an inkling of me that regrets moving. Not only was it necessary to advance my career, but I wasn’t doing my OCD any favors by staying in my comfort zone. I needed to push myself outside of that and prove to myself that I was more than my OCD. And that’s what I did. One year later, I know I made the right decision. Would I do some things differently? Absolutely. Would I change my mind about moving? Not a chance. I genuinely feel like the move helped my OCD recovery more than anything else has.