Adjusting
I’m writing this blog at the end of my first week back in Chicago after six months spent at home, living with my parents and dog, and not far from Nana. And let’s just say the transition hasn’t been easy.
As someone who struggles with change at the best of times, I was especially nervous about how I would process coming back after so long. True, I’d done the same return trip for a few months over the summer, but I knew I would be going back for another extended stay sooner rather than later, and I had already decided that getting a dog would be my coping mechanism.
This time, it was a permanent return, and although I prepared several coping mechanisms - working on a new novel as part of a writing class I’m taking, learning how to play a musical instrument for the first time since childhood, training to become a Dungeon Master in Dungeons & Dragons, and trading the pokemon I’d caught while I was away with my friends who play Pokemon Go - it still left a lot of time for me to be alone.
This week, I found myself going outside about as much as humanly possible, walking 7-10 miles a day. On these walks, I could see other people, even if I didn’t talk to them, and I didn’t feel quite so alone as I did settling back in to my apartment. I’d really gotten used to having company around whenever I wanted people (or my dog, whenever I was in a canine mood), so it felt so strange to go back to living alone.
Living by myself for the first time in so long means that the routine I’d been following with my family was gone, and with all the freedom to do what I wanted when I wanted, I felt even weirder. The need to see other people hit me hard, and since I’m over two weeks past my vaccination, I started to make plans immediately.
Some things worked out, and others didn’t. But I really got my heart set on meeting with a friend who I hadn’t seen since October, and although I remembered that she was often very flaky with plans, I was unprepared for the wave of emotions that would rush over me when she canceled our plans.
I should have known that this would happen, based on past history. And yet, I couldn’t help but cry as I felt like I was doing everything in my control to help ensure a positive return experience, and there was so little I could actually control.
After living with OCD for so long, I have realized that controlling my environment to the best of my ability is the best way to stay on an even keel. But at times like this, times of major transition when it seems like nothing in the world is normal and I’m suddenly thrust into a new routine in a place I haven’t even seen in months, it feels very overwhelming.
In the end, I decided to try to be kind to myself. I dressed in warm fuzzy pajamas, enjoyed a takeout dinner from one of my old favorite restaurants, and tried to enjoy what was in my apartment instead of running away. I went through my old favorite books, rediscovered just how comfy my “comfy chair” is, and played a relaxing Nintendo Switch game on my TV.
This relaxing evening didn’t fix all the worries I’ve been dealing with since I came back, but it did help me find my footing. It occurred to me that trying to rush feeling back to normal wasn’t actually going to make me feel better any faster, and no matter how many new activities I try, it’s going to take time to get used to living alone in Chicago again.
So yes, there have been tears, frustrating moments, and far too many footsteps. But I hope that, as more time goes by, I can continue to take steps to feel adjusted in healthier ways.
Ellie, a writer new to the Chicago area, was diagnosed with OCD at age 3. She hopes to educate others about her condition and end the stigma against mental illness.