Knowing your limits (or) Why I moved out of my apartment

When I went on medical leave, I explicitly promised my doctor that I would rest. Really, really rest. Not “Kassie” rest where I lay down for ten minutes and then get up to do dishes but actually allow myself to recover and heal without the pressures of an overloaded to-do list and multiple creative and health-related ambitions. I wrapped my mind around rest and did my best to embrace it. Then, a new family moved into the apartment below mine.

Now, as a feminist, I do my best to honor the different approaches that women take to work, family, creativity and life in general. I find strength and inspiration in the dynamic ways that women approach everyday challenges. But holy mother, it can be difficult to keep that in mind when someone’s approach impacts your life directly in a nasty way. Woof.

My new neighbors consisted of a couple and their three-year-old son, who is a serious cutie. Having been a single parent of a small person, I understand firmly that change can be rough on kids. So, I didn’t let it get to me when the little guy screamed and cried at the top of his lungs for the first several days after the family moved in. I tried to ignore the constant banging accompanying the screaming, figuring that the little guy was unpacking his toys and giving each of them numerous hearty whacks before putting them away. (I have a little girl… I have no idea what little boys do.) But several days into their new presence, the screaming and crying and banging had yet to abate. And not being able to sleep, read, write or hear myself think was becoming taxing.

I went down to introduce myself and to let the parents know that I was going on medical leave within a few days. I courteously asked if the little guy would be home most days and if he ever took naps. I was assured that he would be placed in daycare in two weeks and that he would hopefully start to nap soon. I returned to my apartment confident that I could stick out two more weeks before guaranteed rest time during the day. I started living in my noise-cancelling headphones, which helped to muffle the screaming, even though it did not drown it out significantly. My parenting style did not involve my daughter screaming bloody-murder all day and into the quietest parts of the night, but I had a ridiculously good kid. I could cope. It would be fine.

The kid never stopped screaming or banging. And after two weeks of enduring it round the clock, I was informed that the little guy would be staying home, not going to daycare at all. I was so on edge from sleep deprivation and constant negative noise that I knew a change had to be made. These parents were not going to change their parenting style, so it was on me to make a change.

Now, I love my apartment. I really, really do. It is the right size for me and my bookshelves. It has a small porch that overlooks a giant tree that colors beautifully in the autumn and blossoms hopefully in the spring. In the winter, everything about my space makes me feel cozy and protected. I’ve lived in my apartment for four-and-a-half years. But because my health is more important than living in a space I love, it became clear that I would have to leave.

The constant insane noise level was making me sicker. I could have dug my heels in and stayed in my space stubbornly. But it would have done me more harm than good. When I found out that the little hellion was not going to be leaving the house for even a few hours a day (blessed rest for me! Oh, the promise of it all!), I knew in my heart that I could not endure a winter season cooped up with the non-stop screaming, banging, crying concert that was that child. I had hit my limit. And I took it upon myself to make a change.

So, the day before I returned to work, I moved from my apartment of four-and-a-half years. I miss it. I miss my tree and the space that had come to hold so many memories and so much of myself. But ultimately, in respecting my limits I did right by myself. Sometimes I pause in the middle of the day now just to hear deeply into the quiet of my new apartment. And in those moments, I know I made the right decision.