Moving Sucks

I think there is a universal truth that everyone can agree on: Moving sucks.

Moving sucks for everyone. There’s something so stressful about the entire process of moving, whether the move was expected or unexpected; whether you’re in a small apartment or a big house; if you’re going cross-country or to a different apartment in the same building. Moving just really sucks. It’s emotional, stressful, exhausting, and time-consuming.

This is fresh on my mind because my husband and I recently moved. We sold the first condo we ever owned and moved to an apartment nearby. It was a really tough decision because we loved our place and our neighborhood. Unfortunately, there was one problem with the cool, quirky place that we fell in love with seven years ago: I got diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, and suddenly, that third-floor walkup wasn’t working anymore.

Our building was old – built in the 1880s – and though it had been renovated over the years, there wasn’t much that changed about the steep, curving staircases. And it wasn’t just one staircase. We had a total of three staircases in our condo: one to the front of the building, one to the back, and one to the second floor (which led to a den and our own rooftop deck – honestly, it was the view of downtown Chicago from our private rooftop that sealed the deal). When we first saw the place and eventually moved it, the stairs didn’t bother us that much. Sure, lugging groceries or heavy suitcases up and down got a little old, but we accepted it because the place was so great, so “us.”

After my diagnosis, I began to freak out about the stairs. I had a reason to – my balance was off and I did have an accident (I didn’t technically tumble down the stairs, but my ankle gave out one day and I had a nasty fall nonetheless). When the initial shock died down and I started going to physical therapy, we decided to give it some time and see how things would go. I had read in a resource from the National MS Society not to make huge decisions while in the middle of a relapse. I found that to be good advice, because relapses end, and you can revisit a decision once you’re feeling better. Unfortunately, as time passed and my legs would get heavy and tired after walking, the stairs became less charming and more stressful (as you know from my recent blog post on stairs). The decision to leave our place was bittersweet, and it certainly wasn’t easy, but it was a choice we had to make because my health had to come first.

Once we made the choice and began telling friends and family about our plans, I was strangely comforted by everyone’s reaction – they not only completely understood, but every single person I talked to said the same thing: moving really sucks. No matter what the circumstance, it seems to be this unifying fact of life. It made me feel better to know that my emotional response wasn’t outrageous – moving is just terrible for everyone.

But I learned a lot with this move. I learned that now, living with MS, I really, truly do have a physical and mental limit – and I learned the consequences of pushing way, WAY past that limit. I learned that sometimes, I simply have to call it a day, and I have to be ok with that. It’s not worth it to spend days in bed recovering. This whole process taught me about the importance of rest, and not fighting the need to take a nap or zone out for a few minutes to give my mind and body a chance to reset. A five or ten-minute meditation helps me to get grounded and forces me to stop. one of the ongoing lessons that I haven’t mastered yet is that I have to be kind to myself, and give myself some grace.

I also learned that of course it’s sad to say goodbye to a place you’ve called home, but that you make a home. When we said our farewells to that empty condo, it started to feel less and less like the place we’d called our home for so long, because we didn’t have our books and art and cozy furniture – it was just a room. I look forward to making my new place feel like my home.

If you are reading this and have a move on the horizon, know you’re not alone in all of your feelings about it: it sucks for EVERYONE, so you can have a sense of belonging while you’re packing up (or throwing out) your stuff.