Every time I look around the apartment and take account of what I have, the first question that comes to mind is "How much do I need to get rid of before I leave?" The second question is "How much is it realistic and affordable to ship?"
It seems almost comical to some that my deadline for getting out is when my gym membership expires, but that's the longest commitment I paid for upfront. It's all arbitrary anyway: in theory, there's nothing stopping me selling all my stuff for pennies today and just getting on the next flight, even if the finances don't feel like they quite work out at the moment. (Although I don't think I'll ever feel like they do, especially with income taxes being what they are in the parts of the world I think I'd be happier in. If the poverty mindset is in any way genetic, then I've likely inherited it to some extent from my dad, who actually grew up relatively poor.)
All rather depressing and certainly not doing my mental health any favours, but I've watched myself get progressively unhappier (net) over the last few years, so staying would almost certainly be worse, and selling stuff takes time, so delaying that isn't an option.
It's funny how some small behaviours have changed in light of all this: I try to look out of the window more when I take the bus, and to prefer the bus over the train. Every moment with friends here feels just a little bit more important.
(It's not like this would be my first time leaving — it's just that, in previous times, coming back felt like a door that would always be wide open. Now I'm not so sure.)