What a mess.
Tags: Mental Health, Self Improvement, Minimalism, Letting Go, Moving

What a mess.

Two months ago my life was turned upside down. Now, I’m not exaggerating here. Yes, as a bipolar adhd-er life often does jumps and falls and squirlies and belly flops (hell, it’s that way for most people, yes?) but the past two months has stood out as some of the most difficult times in my life.

I have been through way worse things but this time I faced this icky thing in my (what I call) new and improved mind. No, I did not have a brain implant. I am the same person; but my behaviors are completely changed from only a couple of years ago.

Which means my reactions (responses) and the way I handle stress has changed; and for the better. But, when you are self-aware you know damn well when you’re a mess. And I was a mess. A hot mess.

We had been renting a beautiful, large townhouse for nine years following the sale of our single-family home. Our landlord, owning just our unit, had purchased the property to build his retirement funds. With real estate absolutely insane right now, he decided to take advantage of what people are paying to purchase anything, anywhere even sight-unseen and thousands of dollars over-asking.

Who can blame him?

But….but….but….this put us in a position where we had to pull every item we owned out of every corner we had in that large townhouse and somehow find a new landing space within weeks; in a rental market just as competitive as real estate.

The facts of what we dealt with are tough enough; having to leave our home was something else entirely. I had never been forced to leave where I lived. This was foreign, uncomfortable, and unsettling.

Man, but it was just a building! Only walls, a roof, carpets, stairs, hardwood floors. None of this is anything I would ever have imagined I’d be attached to emotionally, yet there I was. Sobbing. Wondering how I was going to put my heart back together as it felt broken into a million pieces.

I take pride in becoming more self-aware as I grow older (and hopefully a little bit wiser) and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why I was struggling so hard to picture myself comfortable anywhere outside of these walls. What was I so attached to that was making me miserable, anxious, and upset at the thought of letting go of and leaving behind?

Well, it surely wasn’t the walls, the roof, carpets, stairs, or hardwood floors. It was the memories. Wasn’t it?

Our family has gone through a lot since we had moved into Appletree Village. I went through a lot; I am not the person I was when we first got those keys. And that’s a good thing.

With a complete mental breakdown only months before, I knew I had to re-shape my thinking. I couldn’t end up in a volatile mindset again.

I mean, this isn’t a loss; this is a step up- in the right direction. We did what we had to do here and now it’s time to move on.

These were the thoughts I was trying to dig into the pathways of my brain versus “I’ll never be comfortable anywhere else, I’m not ready for this, I’ll be exposed and anxious and vulnerable somewhere else”. I needed to think about this entire ordeal…differently. Regardless of how I thought of it, felt it and dealt with it, the outcome was going to be the same which I had zero control over; we were moving. And quickly.

The ins and outs and ups and downs are so much the story here. What I want to relay in words is the power of positive thinking. Augh, I know we are so sick of hearing “just think positive”. Such a bullshit response to someone’s suffering. But, if you can figure out a way to actually do it, it’s freaking great!

Let me digress here a minute. When I say “think positive” I don’t mean squash what you’re feeling and only talk about pretty things. I had a friend who would make the statement “we are only going to talk about positive things” when we would get together.

Wait, what?

Life isn’t all shiny, pretty things. There is no “Good Vibes ONLY”. In fact, life is an asshole sometimes. But what I have found in my own life, and what I’m trying to relay here, is…it isn’t is what you talk about, it’s how you handle, process and deal with what you talk about that matters.

The fact was we were moving. The other fact was there were limited places to move. Rentals were scooped up just as fast as houses. We found ourselves in line at apartments to see a place competing against 10, 20, 30 people for one place. It. Was. Crazy.

We didn’t know where we would land (apartment in town, out of town, out of state? Living with my parents, in their backyard, at a campground?). The questions were endless, but there was one certainty in addition to the move.

If I didn’t get my thinking under control I was not going to mentally or emotionally survive this ordeal. I had just been in the hospital seven months before following a conversion disorder episode brought on by deep depression and intense stress. I was not about to let that happen again.

So I changed my mind.

What does that mean? I literally changed my mind; I changed the way I was looking at my situation. Instead of “I have to go through all of this stuff and I don’t have time, energy- I don’t want to ‘get rid’ of my things…this sucks” I said (often reluctantly) “I have the opportunity to go through all of my things and let go of what no longer serves me”.

And that is exactly what I (we) did. On the other end of this freaking mess I sit at my kitchen island in my new flat without a balcony, without a pool, without a backyard blah blah…..but my view is the trees that light up on one side at sunrise then light up again on the other side at sunset. I have less to clean, less holding me down, less ‘stuff’ smashed into every corner. I type this with no piles of laundry, no accumulating dust, and zero regrets while listening to my robot vacuum (aka BFF) suck up floor ickies that I no longer have to do myself.

I’d say I’m lucky to have been forced to move. I didn’t feel that way a couple of months ago as best as I tried to convince myself of that but I grew into it and now, I’m loving it.

Every day I get rid of more; most everything that has left our possession has found a new home and that warms my heart. But this has been a process and will continue to be. I have come to realize through this ordeal that attachment to “things” is real and for me, and it’s detrimental.

Now, before I bring anything into our home I think. Before I hit “add to cart” I ask myself why I am purchasing whatever it may be. Is it really a need? Do I absolutely love it? Or is it just another thing that will end up in a pile one day with me staring at it wondering how the hell I ever buried myself in so much “stuff”.

The photo you see below is at the end of what I had packed up and shipped out. Let me clarify here that I do not have Hoarding Disorder. I just did what most of us Americans do; fill up the space we’re in….because we can.

Before this photo, I thought we were almost done, so I pulled what was left out of every room and put it together so I could run through it on one floor.

Well, there was no running through anything. Instead there was tears; tears of embarrassment, honestly.

I was so embarrassed for myself. How did I ever gather so many things that add zero value to my life? Had they added value they’d have been used, loved. Instead it was buried and smashed into corners.

I may have had a lot of stuff but I was clean and pretty well organized. I can’t handle clutter. At least I didn’t think I could. I mean….look at this pile!

Now that’s a freaking mess.

And let me remind you that this what was left after I had finished packing.

In the end, after the tears, packing, unpacking, un-storing, giving away, cleaning and realizations I found peace with the upheaval. I was forced to move but I wasn’t forced to accept it. I did however force myself to adapt, adjust and let go. That is what saved me; looking at everything as an opportunity even though I didn’t fully believe it myself.

Before leaving Appletree I walked into each empty room and touched the walls thanking the structure for its warmth and support all of those years. We had some great times, we had some not-so -great but it is where our life happened. Now, it was time to change and I knew fighting it would only fuzzy my vision moving forward so I did what I had to in order to not only survive this change but to embrace it and learn from it; gotta’ roll with the tide or the waves will swallow you whole, dammit. And I hate choking on salt water.

Am I hoping to be a minimalist, no. But I am happily adopting a lot of the practices and mindsets of a minimalist. Us Wheelers are creatives; creatives enjoy color, design, art, and all sorts of things (I feel are) avoided in true minimalism. But, I’ll tell you letting go of “stuff” has helped me to let go of other things that have been weighing me down. Toxic relationships, damaging behaviors, and even trying to gain control of situations…I’m letting it all go.

The one thing I am hoping this huge move onward and upward will help me to gain is the forgiveness I need for myself.

Self-compassion, self-care and self-love are all fine and dandy and important and I love them; but self-forgiveness, that’s a whole other thang….but now that the stuff, the unhealthy relationships, and the changed behaviors are let go of….it’s time to start working on forgiving myself for allowing all of it to pile up on me, hiding in the dark corners. It’s time to hand hold, review, and release all of it.

Part of that release included giving the sea back it’s belongings. The shells, sand, rocks and all I had collected my 48 years on this planet has been returned to its rightful owner along with any emotions I had invested in and attached to these items. There were good memories but attached to those were reminders of who I was at the time; who I no longer wish to be. So they all had to go. And they all went back to their rightful place on earth, back to the sea.

I will happily close this piece out with this; the very last piece of paper I saved from my lawsuit years ago. A malpractice lawsuit against a psychiatrist, his practice and the hospital which supported (and buried) his behavior that ended in an out-of-court settlement.

I held on to these documents (boxes and boxes and boxes) outlining and highlighting every single doctors visit of my whole entire life. Reading the observations of medical professionals; the diagnosis, the notes, the absolute truths, wrongs, and bullet-points; well, let’s just say sitting on those papers just reinforced how unworthy I was.

So I let all of that go, as well. I am not these papers. I am not these diagnoses. I am not these observations. I am not these outlines, highlights or bullet points. I sure as hell am not this consultation report for the (unnecessary) ECT treatments I received under Dr. MadScientist’s mismanaged care.

What I am is free.

Free of what has come and gone before and I’m grateful I was forced into this journey so I am able to grow and love and laugh and be who I am and let go of the rest instead of keeping it all buried and in every corner of my home as a reminder of who I once was and all the wrong I once did.

I promised myself I would continue on this less is more journey to make room for more love, hope, and experiences to enjoy, appreciate and celebrate.

That’s my story. What are you afraid to let go of?