Trigger warning: Suicide. Depression. Sexual assault.
In a few days, I make one year since I moved to Florida. My fiance got a job and they said he had 2 weeks to move or he would lose it. We were in a pandemic, it was winter, it was almost Christmas, we weren’t financially ready, but we figured it out and me and my toddler packed up with daddy and left a home that was all I had ever known for 29 years. Moving from New York City to Florida was not easy. I had never lived without my mom (except for that one time I moved to Ohio for 3 months because I was getting over a break up) I had never lived anywhere that wasn’t my bedroom in Queens, New York. I moved to Florida with no friends, no family, no job, just a suitcase with my clothes in it. It has been the hardest year of my life in all ways. I thought moving to Florida would be the answer to all my problems because i’d be leaving a toxic household. It wasn’t though. I didn’t realize that being away from one problem, would just give me alone time with all my other problems. I’m still adjusting and understanding, but after a difficult, long but necessary trip back to New York City after being away for so long I realized that the only reason I hated Florida was because I wasn’t used to the peace it allowed me. Let me explain in true Romyboattt fashion. Here’s some things this past year has shown me.
Understanding Peace– I was away from a household that caused me pain for years. And i know that it sounds like “okay girl whats the problem?” But look, when it’s all you known your whole life, its very hard to ever feel like you deserve anything better than what you grew up in. My parents weren’t the worst, I wasn’t the best daughter either but a lot of who I am, is because of how I was raised and the things that were said to me growing up. When I moved here, I had a really hard time adjusting to being the one who made all the rules. I wouldn’t allow myself lazy days or allow myself to eat whatever and whenever because for so long staying in bed or eating junk food was a problem. I wasn’t used to peace and quiet and having a place where my energy was in charge.
Independence– I grew up with an overly involved mother. I guess thats not a huge problem, but it kinda stunned my growth. I didn’t know how to make decisions for myself because she always made them for me. When I moved, I still asked my mom for help even with the color towels I bought for my bathroom. It took some intense intervention from my therapist and fiance and best friend telling me. its YOUR home do what YOU want nobody else needs to approve but you. I still struggle with the need to have my mom validate most of the things I do but Florida has made it a little easier to just leave my phone in my pocket and not call her in the middle of target to see if she likes the shit i buy.
All my other problems– Yes I got away from a household I felt no longer served me, but I still had other issues that I finally had time for. I developed an eating disorder, I had a severe case of postpartum depression, I was jobless. All these things took a backseat because my only focus was my poor relationship with where I was living. Once that changed, I had to work out all my other shit. My father always judged me for the things that I ate and the amount that I ate so when I moved, I began binge eating because to me it felt like a big “fuck you” to ever being judged for what I wanted to eat and I no longer had to restrict myself because of fear someone would call me fat. I was depressed about becoming a new mom and not feeling worthy enough to be such a cool kid’s mommy. My body changed, I didn’t feel as beautiful as I did before the baby. I was broke. I didn’t even realize how much I missed of his first year because I was so busy hating where I lived to focus on him. I had to deal with very dark childhood memories I suppressed for so long.I had to face the effects my sexual assaults (both as a child and as an adult) had on me. Florida made me sit with my problems and really figure out what the fuck was happening to me and why I was the way I was.
Popularity Means NOTHING– Florida humbled me so fast. In NY, I was popular. I wasn’t a celebrity or anything but I had a lot of friends. I knew a lot of people in cool places. The reasons why I was so known weren’t great but I took my “hood fame” and ran with it. I never made lines for clubs, I never hung out at the bar or at the dance floor. I was pretty cool. I am a nobody in Florida. I have no friends, I don’t know anybody other than my fiance and my son ( and a few people who i know live here but I don’t hang out with) I felt like the new girl at a new school starting in the middle of the school year when everyone has already made their friends for the year. None of the club promoters I knew or the friends I had in New York meant anything in Florida, I was back to making lines and paying at the door. I developed so much social anxiety during the pregnancy and pandemic that I didn’t even know how to begin making new friends in a new city. I wasn’t as “cool” and “friendly” as I used to be. It’s been a year and I still have no friends.
Suicidal Ideations- They are real. It’s a tough topic to talk about but at one point my depression got so bad, I thought my son and my partner would be better off without me. I was just so tired of waking up everyday and barely existing. I would wake up disappointed everyday that I lived to see another day. I spent months writing my suicide note. One time things got so bad, I was crying on the floor of my closet saying ” I can’t do this anymore” with a belt in my hand and if my fiance had been just 1 minute late opening the closet door, I wouldn’t be writing this blog anymore. Change after 29 years just got the best of me and I couldn’t find anything positive to keep going. I had a new home, I was away from the place that made me sad, my relationship had space to grow, I had a fresh start and I saw all of that as negative. Things were so bad. I used weed as an escape and not saying that weed is bad, but I used to smoke, to enhance the fun, and then I just started getting high to run away from life. Florida gave me too much alone time with my thoughts and they ate me alive.
This isn’t a post to bash Florida. I went to New York after being here and I realized that the only reason I was so obsessed with New York was because I was afraid and felt unworthy of a better life. I had to go back to realize I was codependent on a city that was never going to love me back. Those friends I thought I left behind, weren’t my friends when I went back, I mean, they stopped being my friends soon as I moved. That “popularity” ended once I had a baby. New York didn’t love me anymore and I don’t think it ever really did. But my love and loyalty for that city, didn’t allow me to give Florida a real chance. I came back from my trip and felt safe. For the first time in a year, I wasn’t sad, I wasn’t crying, I wasn’t anxious, I was safe. Am I still depressed? Yes. Do I still want to die? Most days. Do I have hope here that I never had before? Yeah. The sun shines a little brighter here and hopefully soon, I will too.
If you struggle with suicidal ideations and thoughts. There are resources. Call a friend. DM me on instagram or twitter. Call the hotline. Things don’t feel like they’ll get better, but some days are better than others so we gotta live for those. National Suicide Prevention Hotline – 800-273-8255