I'm 21 and Have My Own New York City Apartment—But I'm Not Okay

Nobody prepares you for the moment you realize you're finally growing up.

If I'm being logical, I'll admit that my parents prepared me to be independent all my life. After all, they sent me in Ubers by myself as early as age 13. They taught me how to take care of myself and others—how to tell right from wrong, how to balance work and self-care, how to deal with love and loss.

And of course, the little things, like how long to keep tuna salad before it expires, or the difference between a Tide pod and Cascade (hey, they look similar!).

But change is never logical. Change is complex and chaotic. I just moved into my first-ever apartment solo, and I've never felt more grown up. Things have finally settled down in the new place. There are no more movers and contractors drilling. My mom finished organizing my Marie Kondo-style closet. My dad set up the WiFi and TV.

Now that everyone is gone, I'm alone, and I'm panicking. The silence scares me. So does how quickly time seems to have passed. It feels like just yesterday, I was moving into my apartment to be closer to my elementary school.

My struggles with anxiety have not made this drastic change any easier. I was diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder and OCD in 2020, but my mental health struggles have actually been going on for much longer.

When I was eight years old, I was obsessed with everything being "just right." If I touched something with my left hand, I had to touch it with my right hand, or else my mind wouldn't be "at peace."

It made no sense. Although the habit faded over time, the same sentiment still stands. If I feel slightly off mentally, my brain reads it as being in danger, and I'll have a strong physical reaction. I get dizzy and have a hard time concentrating. It becomes difficult to follow conversations as I fall down a rabbit hole of rumination.

Living alone, it's particularly hard to pull myself out.

With OCD, I like everything to be under my control. There are a lot of unknowns attached to being in a new environment. I don't know how I'm going to feel or adapt. Change triggers my anxiety—change of scenery, lifestyle changes, or diet and exercise changes.

Moving out of my parents' home is the ultimate test. I turned 21 less than a month ago, and now I have to take care of my very own space. I've lived in New York City my whole life. I only moved a mile away from my family. My boyfriend works a few blocks away. I know this neighborhood like the back of my hand.

But somehow, this new life feels strange and unfamiliar. It's overwhelming, and yes, anxiety-inducing.

Adulthood has approached so fast, I'm having trouble processing it quickly enough. I blast Tate McRae's new album so loud in my new apartment that I can't hear my anxious thoughts. I work out so long, so hard, that the only growing pains I feel are in my legs.

It feels like the world is spinning a web of stress I can't seem to untangle. Where and when do I get food? How am I going to have enough money for three meals a day, five days a week? What happens if I get locked out of my apartment? Or I break a glass and nobody's there to help me clean up? Nobody prepares you for what it feels like to finally grow up.

Adulting hits like a tsunami—it washes over you when you least expect it. Like when I had my first panic attack weeks before my 18th birthday. Or when I lost my grandma this past March. Adulting can simultaneously be exciting and scary.

I think about how I met my boyfriend almost a year ago, and now I can't imagine my life without him. Or how I took on my first real journalism internship this past summer and realized that my dream of writing for a newspaper was finally coming to fruition.

That said, in those more difficult moments, it's hard to stay rational. Reason seems to get thrown out the window in the face of anxiety. Anxiety looks different for everyone, but to me, my surroundings fall silent. Everything and everyone around me becomes blurred, and it's difficult to focus on the present.

So how do I stay grounded when everything around me is moving at lightning speed? In my case, I try to acknowledge the pros of having my own apartment: Independence, freedom, and more me-time. No more parents interrupting me on my Peloton or dog barking while I'm trying to write.

I now inhabit my own personal space, and I feel very fortunate. I am trying to embrace the calm and find peace in the silence instead of being scared of it.

The answer to staying grounded is love. Self-love, love for others and gratitude for the role they have played in your growth. When the world is spinning, I take a second to appreciate my constants, both human and material.

I hug my parents extra tight and tell them how much I love them. I add an extra 20 minutes onto my Peloton stack. I savor the last bite of nigiri from my favorite neighborhood sushi spot.

I'll also let you in on a little secret. When I'm feeling helpless, I listen to old voicemails of my grandma telling me she loves and misses me. It's a poignant reminder that no matter how life shakes you, love is never lost.

Carrie Berk is a 21-year-old bestselling author and just released her solo debut book, My Real-Life Rom-Com. She has nearly 4 million followers on TikTok and 1 million on Instagram.

All views expressed in this article are the author's own.

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