The Move Debate

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By Michael

I have to face the fact that I’m going to have to move.  I can’t afford the house I’m in alone anymore, but damn it I feel guilty.  This is the only real home my Bug has ever known.  Just recently painting her room purple, a color she picked out, and she’s been so excited and happy, and it eats and kills me inside knowing I’m going to have to leave this place, and cause her to leave her room behind.  It’s a guilt that obviously no one else has, but for some reason I do.  I feel I’m going to fail her, I’m going to fail her brother and her sister when I move.  They’ve grown accustomed to this house, and yes while they are only here a few days here and there every few weeks, at least its familiar, at least it’s something they can come back to, and it’s a constant, while everything else is a mess and in flux.  Sometimes I think and think life would be easier if I just couldn’t care, hell I’d definitely probably have more hair if I didn’t stress about things as much as I do.  But something about thinking about moving just puts a sick feeling in my stomach.  Where I think I should be feeling some relief or some excitement to moving on and starting something new and fresh, I feel dread and worry.
I worry about the place I end up getting, what if it’s not enough?  What if they don’t like it, and in turn don’t want to come to visit me?  The likelihood I’m going to find a place big enough is slim to none, so they’ll have to share rooms…I don’t know.  I’d do anything to make my kids happy, and right now, I don’t feel like moving will be something that makes them happy.
And I’m scared…..I’m scared of the day my baby doesn’t want to come home with me.  I barely survived that with my son, with Bug, I have no chance…I’m not that strong.
I wish I was stronger.

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