Holding on

 I'm putting my stuffed animals in a laundry basket and trying not to cry because it's making me realize I'm not a child anymore.

This is a big step and I'm scared. I know millions of people move out every year, and I'll have a few hundred new people around me, but it's not much comfort. I am just one person with anxiety and a basket of stuffed animals.

My room is half-packed, my bed stripped, a bucket of coat hangers and laundry supplies open on the floor. It's in transition, like me. I don't know what it'll be like when I'm not here anymore. I wonder if it'll still feel lived in. I wonder how I can make a new space feel like home.

I used to dream about keeping this blog until I was 18 and getting to say look! I'm an adult, and here's what I don't have to hide anymore. But now that I'm here, it feels like I'm crying wait, I'm still young. Don't let me go yet. And I'm too old for Peter Pan, what hope do I have?

I'm bringing my stuffed animals with me. They'll be my childish companions for growing up and holding on. Part of me wanted to leave them, to start over in a sense, but I'm not quite brave enough for that. I still need my otter to hold at night.

So yeah, I've moved out for college. It's going alright so far, but I'm a little overwhelmed. Since being here, I actually acquired a stuffed Scottish terrier. He's cute but doesn't have a name yet. Suggestions are accepted. Here he is at dinner yesterday when I got him.

 

And this is Melon, my little stress plushie who hangs out on my desk and in my bag sometimes. They're an owl I think.

Featuring my Frozen 2 hand sanitizer because, Elsa. She's pretty, okay?

I'm very nervous for what this year will bring, but I'm trying to be excited too. My classes start on Monday, and they seem pretty cool. It seems like I might be able to make some friends too. I'll keep you guys updated.