Gifts that keep on giving

I was looking for an audio cable so I could plug my old mp3 player into a speaker instead of using ear buds. It seemed like a good idea to go ahead and sort through ye olde drawer of electronic device cables and clean it out. I didn’t find an appropriate cable, yet I had to take a break for emotional reasons.

It isn’t unusual to put things out of sight that bother us. Attics and basements, closets, drawers, and spaces under countless beds are full of things like that. They often get too full before we clear them.

It was a simple thing. A small plastic toy horse. When folks ask me what I want for Christmas I say “A Pony!” Sadly, I have never received a real, live pony. Pony themed items are also appreciated. The very thoughtful yet toxic, abusive parents of an ex of mine gave me said toy horse one year, as well as other quality gifts that were genuinely nice and seemed to indicate affection. They broke up with him/us not long after with a number of horrid reasons why I was a terrible person. We were together for years beyond that point, as they had been similarly cruel to him at other points in his life. So the pretty little horse sat in view for a little while, eventually put in the drawer because I liked the figurine yet couldn’t bear it as a visual reminder of the mistreatment. Several years later, it is still a pretty horse. It is not the horse’s fault that it needs to go away, so I won’t be destroying it. I’ll likely donate it somewhere and hope that another person appreciates it and never associates it with pain.

Getting rid of emotional clutter

I have been churning through a lot of emotions while going through stuff. I’ve been in the house for over a decade and there are a lot of memories. There are also things that have moved a number of times in my life which I am determined to pare down if not get rid of completely because I don’t need them anymore. Emotional triggers are all over the place, and I feel a need to face and conquer the negative ones so that can’t hurt me again.

I only have a few items that belonged to my mother, and am loathe to part with them. While passing something I was suddenly reminded of something that her stepmom told me some years after my mom had passed away. She told me that having me killed her. That’s something I took to heart and didn’t question. I thought it was one of those things that simply hadn’t been said because kids get shielded from so much of life. I finally unpacked that and have come to the conclusion that it’s not actually true. It implied either some harmful intention on my part from wanting to be born and/or martyrdom on my mom’s side for choosing to have children. While it is certainly true there is often a taboo about speaking ill of the dead, that is no reason to vilify the living.

Now, it is true that my mom had complications with a number of pregnancies. My sibling and I survived yet others were miscarried. I have visible defects from poorly managed blood sugar levels in the early weeks of pregnancy. There were other complications due to diabetes and heart disease. Yet there were also other factors in why she died at the age of 37. She did not die in childbirth. Perhaps there was more strain on her body and heart, and pregnancy took some time off her life. Yet why on earth would anyone tell a child that by existing they hurt much less killed their mother? It’s possible my granny resented her husband’s first marriage and kids. Maybe she was bitter about things. For the most part she was kind and hospitable the few times they visited our home or us theirs, they lived pretty far away. I never knew them well, yet I know there were tough aspects of their lives. I hold no malice about that conversation, yet I am ready to let go of the guilt it triggered within me.

Moving right along

I rented a moving truck and we moved some large furniture pieces. Now I have more room to sort through accumulated items and stage them for relocation, redistribution, recycling, and other forms of disposal. Once more things are gone I’ll be able to focus on maintenance and repair, deep cleaning, and painting. While it is important progress it was bittersweet as it is hard to prepare to say goodbye to what was a good home for many years.

I’m still finding it difficult to compartmentalize some feelings. I find myself silently crying at odd times.  It is a little difficult to be around people who are polite, nice, and friendly while I feel like my world is changing rapidly. I feel a desperate need for change. I do have positive things and people in my life that I hope will be a greater part of my future. Fitting into a new place is a challenge. Growth isn’t always easy.

I am too easily distracted by things like books, photos, memorabilia, and more. I forget to drink enough water or eat. My stomach is in knots a lot. Sometimes it helps to play music or have a show playing on TV, and other times I need it to be quiet. Life feels like an erratic, chaotic mess when what I need is stability and calm. There are always moments of calm, even on the roughest thrill ride, yet sometimes they are few and far between.

 

Wheat versus chaff

As I continue sorting through items that have accumulated in my home the hardest part remains processing the associated emotions. I have tried a few techniques to make it easier. I’ve tried holding the item and saying goodbye, or thanking it for the purpose it has served in my life. I’ve taken pictures sometimes. I’ve let myself feel the joys and pains of remembering those I was with or whose items they were. Sometimes it’s a matter of forgiving myself for a purchase that didn’t work out the way I thought it would.

I’ve found it is easier to let go of things that will likely be used again. Things like toys, gently used clothes, or kid items that will be donated to a local community organization. It is much harder for me to throw away something that has been worn out or soiled to the point it should not be donated.

It hurts to find things that were purchased yet never used or gifted because someone left my life or circumstances changed to the point where it no longer seemed appropriate. Such items are usually easily donated, yet I again find myself forgiving myself for having made the investment in the first place. It isn’t that I regret them, more that it increases the sense of loss.

I keep having to tell myself that many of these are not things that I need, and that it is okay to let them go. There are useful items that I have trouble deciding about, too, yet those are easier to pare down. Taking the time to ponder how much I actually like an item versus whether I’m keeping it simply because it could potentially be useful helps me with those determinations.

Memories are potent. Sometimes I need to take a break. Overall I am making progress; that’s the important thing.

Breaking Up is Hard to Do

I have had some reasonably successful long-term relationships in my life. Some were marriages, others were not. Some breaks were a lot cleaner than others. I’ve had some intermittent relationships and possibly more than my fair share of dating fiascos. I was 18 when I first married and though it lasted several years I assure you it was a mistake and I was naive and ignorant at the time. I’ve initiated some breakups and been blindsided by others. It’s never an easy or fun thing to go through regardless. Staying amicable when trust has been broken is difficult, everyone copes differently, and every situation is a bit different. I’ve been trying to identify any trends in my reactions, so here are some observations.

I feel guilty regardless. If it ended because my partner cheated on me, I feel as though I must have given them cause or not been meeting their needs. If I broke it off, I feel bad for hurting them. Even when things end by nature of mutual choice because of logistics or it no longer being mutually beneficial I feel terribly responsible. A symptom of this is that during the immediate aftermath I go out of my way to make life better and easy for my now ex partner. I’ll continue shopping for them whether it’s snacks or clothes. I’ll buy them things. I’ll do extra chores. It’s possible that in some situations I’ve been concerned about triggering anger or violence and have erred on the side of compliance and sacrifice to keep things amicable. It’s like I have a great need to treat them well, even if they treated me badly. I don’t think it’s particularly healthy.

I end up with physical stuff. I don’t know if it’s sometimes a vain hope that they’ll get back together with me or they want some ongoing connection or what, yet I’ve ended up with clothes, toys, music, and more. It feels weird to have, and weirder still to get rid of right away. I don’t enjoy being reminded of them when I come across such things, especially from the marriages. Maybe it’s a subtle form of control or punishment that I have to deal with things they didn’t have time or space to manage. It sucks. It is literal baggage that nobody is paying me to store. Closets, basements, and garages all have ended up stuffed, and I feel like I should be billing my exes for storage and disposal fees. Worst of all is a bunch of crap my kid’s biodad foisted off “in case they want it when they are older.” I have enough other things to manage and organize without guilt over potentially nostalgic items from someone who left when they were two. Neither the kid nor I need cast-off goods simply because someone else didn’t take them. Oh, and “maybe you could sell them for extra money” was insulting as well. Leaving behind junk is not charity; I am not Goodwill -the labor of sorting and organizing for donation is not easy or fun.

I lose stuff. Somewhat ironic perhaps given the previous paragraph. I’ve lost equipment, movies, books, clothing, and more because I couldn’t say no when they asked for them or didn’t notice they were gone until it was too late. I’ve lost things in some moves which I would have returned if roles had been reversed (legal paperwork, childhood keepsakes, etc).

Everything is awkward for a while. Socially who knows and who doesn’t? I don’t want to put everything out there publicly nor talk about it over and over again. So I tend to withdraw at times when I really need support. This is one area where having the Internet has been helpful. I can post in forums where nobody knows me for advice if I need help or compassion. I can research and read what others have done in similar situations. It’s not easy, yet this does eventually improve.

My intent is not to cast a negative light on my prior partners, even those who took advantage of breakups to get rid of stuff and/or get things they liked. This is mostly me trying to identify what boundaries I may need in place in the future. Most of my former loves have been decent fellows. Courtesy can be in short supply when your heart hurts. While I seem to have a great need to take care of them, I definitely need to take even better care of myself.

So Much Stuff

I don’t think I’m a hoarder. While I have difficulty letting go of things I have seen worse situations. Though at some times I’ve lived in clutter to the point of having paths through a room instead of higher levels of organization, there are levels of filth and decomposition that I cannot tolerate. That might be a low bar to set, yet it is what it is. I don’t prefer a cluttered environment, much more the opposite. Sometimes it’s tough to dig out, though!

I tend to be non-confrontational. So I don’t often request much less insist that others clean up after themselves. This has led to a default at times of if I don’t do it, nobody will. Sometimes I think this is a problem of sexism, as most partners and housemates were used to their mothers doing such things. That applies for dishes, laundry, and a lot more.

I didn’t have that kind of example. Our organizational method was largely random. We all did laundry, dishes, and yard work fairly regularly as needed. Dishes, clothes, and books had consistent places to be yet many things did not. Our personal items went to our rooms and it didn’t much matter where once in them. When I moved to a home that didn’t have a linen closet I was pretty lost as to where to put the ones that weren’t in use. Having been raised with a mindset that if something isn’t broken you keep it in case you need it makes it tough to get rid of many things. I have seen this be a problem for my dad. While I value the frugality of making do with what one has and being prepared for harder times, there is literally too much, The cost of keeping things and the guilt of discarding them make for a constant battle.

I was never trained in how to set routines or organize anything. It is somewhat ironic that I have had to perform organizational and inventory related tasks for some of my jobs and did so successfully. Not knowing where certain things might belong or work best, and fearing that if something is put away out of sight I’ll forget where it is have both contributed to problems for me. A lack of training and support, compounded by repeated shaming from loved ones for not automatically knowing such things, has left me feeling inadequate, worthless, and hopeless. That isn’t meant as an excuse, because as an adult I know I can still learn, and change, and hope to live in an environment that is more peaceful and settled. It simply takes a lot to keep going when the process feels overwhelming on many levels.

 

Closeting My Emotions & Talking to Myself

I’m in the process of cleaning out a 1400 square foot home (plus basement and two car garage) and fitting stuff into a 980ish square foot home (unusable basement, leaky one car garage, small storage shed). I have a lot of stuff going back a few decades, not all of it collected by me. There are some things to which I have emotional attachments, like the piano that belonged to my mother. There are things that other people foisted on me in various ways like by moving out and saying “Oh, you can just keep that, I won’t have room). It is a tedious and extremely stressful process for me to sort through and get rid of things in general having been raised with a depression era mindset that you should keep everything in case you might need it later. Having memories of other people who are no longer in my life and having to get rid of things that were theirs makes it even harder. Frankly, it has been overwhelming at times and I’ve procrastinated too much.

So I began with a closet that was so stuffed it wouldn’t close properly.

How hard could it be? Let’s listen in as I converse with myself. For sake of clarity let’s limit this to two voices: Productive Me, referred to as PM, and Hesitant Me, referred to as HM.

PM: Okay. Let’s do this! [proceeds to remove paint cans, boxes, and some other stuff. Gets trash bag for actual trash, dust, dog hair, etc.] Wow, we haven’t had a dog in over three years. This is way overdue. [continues by removing some coats, accessories, and more] Alright, let’s see if we can close this door now! [door slides over, dips down, and rests at an awkward angle against frame, leaving a gap.]

HM: It’s broken. *sigh*

PM: So we’ll fix it!

HM: We don’t know how it’s broken, or how to fix it. It always worked before!

PM: Are you serious? Fixing sliding closet doors was literally part of a full time job you had one summer during our college years. It’s probably a quick fix with a screwdriver.

HM: I don’t know. That was years ago. I’m not sure I remember. This is a different door. The hardware might be different.

PM: I’m pretty sure this house was built before those dorms were, and the tech used has not changed in decades. You can do this. Let’s get a light and a screwdriver! [begrudgingly, we do so and assess the door from within the closet.] Okay, so turning this would raise it, and tightening it should make it close flush with the frame. Oh! The plastic piece that allows for adjustments is missing. That explains it!

HM: Aw man. I think I remember finding that and throwing it away. [roots through closet] I don’t see it. It’s gone. We’ll need a replacement. This makes everything look bad. This is terrible. I am horrible at home maintenance. I’ve neglected things. I shouldn’t have thrown away that piece.

PM: Dude, get a grip. Seriously. You and I both know this is an easy fix once we have that part. It will be fine, even if we have to go to a hardware store and buy one. Maybe the other one broke off. You used to be confident about this stuff -you could probably do it half asleep! What the heck happened to you?

HM: I lived with a judgemental narcissist who belittled any mistakes, blamed me for his, and steadily eroded my self-esteem over the course of several years!

PM: …Uhm…..Uh…Well, I’m sorry to hear that? You didn’t deserve that, at all. You are okay. I know you can do this, and do it well. It isn’t difficult. I think we might have compatible hardware from a set of doors we removed from another house a couple of years ago. Let’s stop for now until we can figure that out.

HM: But now we have all this stuff in the hallway! It’s a mess! I made it all worse!

PM: We are the only ones here. Nobody else is going to see it. If somebody comes to the door we’ll pretend we aren’t here.

HM: Like that one time at Halloween when we didn’t have any candy?

PM: Exactly. I think you need a break. We’ll come back to it.

Amazingly enough, or perhaps not, a plastic piece of the needed variety was found within minutes of searching. Sadly, it was getting dark in the hallway as it was late in the evening.

HM: This isn’t working. I’ve tried several times and the light’s not bright enough. I’m tired of holding my arms over my head to try. The screw isn’t fitting into the back plate. We might need to take the door all the way off and use the other plate instead.

PM: I am pretty sure it’s the same sizing. Let’s try again in the morning!

Sure enough, the door was properly aligned in less than two minutes the next morning and once again closes flush with the door frame. Yay! I did know what I was doing!

The rest of the closet was cleared, and items that still need to be there are better organized. Coming across baby-proofing items on the shelf was frustrating because they could’ve been donated somewhere ten years ago, I’m unlikely to ever need such things again, and for being a reminder that I should have cleaned things out sooner. Finding wedding-related items, both decor and a full photo collage frame, let me feeling a bit ill. I feel obligated to keep the photos at least for now. Oh well. One closet down, a whole lot more to go.