Fear of Falling

I have had control issues from a young age.  I am that person who always has the last word, who always has to be right, who always wants things done my way. I've always been like that, and I know it's deeply ingrained in my soul.  My mother is the same way, and so is my sister.  When I was in high school, I never drank and still don't.  I used to say it was because I didn't like the taste of alcohol, but I think it was my fear of losing control.  I would go to parties on Friday nights, sit around and watch my friends become idiots, and on Monday mornings back at school I would be the one telling them how dreadfully stupid they behaved because they couldn't remember.  I didn't want to be like them.

It's been a recurring theme in all my relationships- with people, with work, with strangers, with road rage.  It's one of the reasons I make tedious to-do lists even when I'm home alone all day.  It's why I make elaborate "itineraries" when we go on vacation.  It's why I spend an hour on MapQuest before I drive anywhere new (I can't even let myself trust a GPS). It's a character trait/flaw I've long wanted to change, but I have a tremendous problem dealing with it.  It makes others around me unhappy, and in the end, it stresses me out more than I need to be.  I made a promise to myself over the weekend that going forward, I was going to actively work on this.

J and I had a bit of a tiff over the weekend, on the way home from buying the new house.  We rarely fight, and I wouldn't even call this an argument, but we spent a few hours in stony silence afterwards which is horribly unlike us.  All because J said he wanted to buy a particular piece of furniture for the new house, and I immediately shot down his idea because I didn't think we needed it.  And I do that all the time.  I know it, but I can't help myself, the words come spewing out of my mouth before my brain engages.  Most of the time I wish I could suck them back in, but that's never possible is it?  Once we were speaking again, J said he is so tired of me being that way.  J rarely speaks negatively towards me, and for him to do so, I know he truly is upset with me.  And if my easy-going husband is upset, then this is something I need to work on.

I know part of it is the control.  But part of it is also how badly I deal with change.  Any change.  Every year my company had the same boring questions and categories on our annual reviews.  No matter what department, no matter what job, no matter what boss- when it came to the question about how does this employee deal with change, I got terrible marks.  It was always always the one category I failed, every time.  And if people I worked with saw it, how bad was I behaving with the people I lived with?  Because I did it with my ex as well.  It was a different situation with him- because of the abuse and disrespect and mutual hatred, I always thought I had to "fight" for what I wanted, that I always had to be ready to defend myself and my way of thinking.  In that relationship, we were always combative. It was dog eat dog, and if I didn't speak up first or speak the loudest, I got trampled.  If I didn't get it my way, then I was crushed under the weight of W's decisions.  

W was selfish and angry, his choices were meant to hurt, to demean, to dominate.  J is not like that, he always bends over backwards to please me.  He is willing and happy to make compromises for me.  Why can't I do the same for him?  Why can't I loosen my grip on the rope?  It's not as though he will take it all and use it as a noose on me.  Right now I seem to always be in a tug of war against him, but he doesn't want to play.

If we planned to go to lunch before we go to the garden center, but J decides to go to the garden center first, I instantly start listing the reasons why I think we should go to lunch first.  And I do that ALL THE TIME.  With everything.  No matter how small or insignificant the issues.  It's like I never allow the man to make decisions.  For me, it's a (bad) reaction to a change. To J, it's me telling him he's wrong and proceeding to point out the reasons why.  If he has an idea about how to do something, I almost always find a way to "correct" him, and come up with my own version of how we should continue.  I usually end up sounding like a smarty pants, and even I see that.  Why do I assume he doesn't know how to use a certain tool, pick a restaurant, buy his own clothes?  Do I try to control all the decisions in order to feel needed, to feel necessary in his life?  If so, that's going to backfire eventually.  No man wants to constantly feel like a child, married to his mother.

I don't want to do that to him, and I don't want to make him feel bad or belittle him or make him, as he said he does so often during these conversations, just give up and "let" me have my way because he is worn down and it's easier just to give in.  "Yes dear."  Back when we were dating, I half-jokingly told J I was high maintenance, that I was raised a princess and a daddy's girl and was used to being spoiled.  And J has always treated me the same way.  It's one thing to be spoiled and showered because the giver is freely doing it, entirely with an open heart.  It's another thing to get your way because you have demanded it and browbeaten your spouse.  There is a fine line between being a princess and being a spoiled brat.  I don't want to be that way, but sometimes I think I am.  I am worried that J will become resentful eventually.

J told me this weekend that it is tiring and it is easier to let me get my way than to argue with me.  That makes me sound like a bitch.  I know he wasn't calling me a bitch, it just makes ME see myself that way.  I know J meant to open a meaningful dialogue with me, but I snapped at him about how I won't be a doormat, I have opinions, I won't keep my mouth shut.  I realized with a painful stab to my heart, that in my mind I was arguing with my ex-husband.  It was like I didn't even see J standing there in front of me.  Why can't I get that awful fucking waste of a human out of my head after all these years!

I tried to explain it to J- that when I say "no we can't do that!" I sometimes mean "that idea scares me" but I don't know how to say it the right way.  I don't know if he understands or not.  J just sees it as me being negative.  He said he deals with that all the time at work, his ideas are always met with resistance and negativity. People will say "we can't do that" or "we've always done it this way we don't want to make changes"- and he said he really doesn't want to hear more of it at home.  I tried to let him know that- whether or not he thinks it's a big deal- things scare me sometimes, but of course he doesn't understand that either because he is my protector and my support and my white knight.  He is always telling me not to worry, not to get upset, everything will turn out okay, he will take care of it.  And it almost always does work out fine.  But it's a nasty symptom of my anxiety, to be fearful of any change, and so I try to defend myself with the word NO.  And that's fucked up.  Even if our Saturday routine gets shuffled in the middle of the day.  Even if J wants to buy a fireproof safe to put in the storage room of the new house.  I always react, and normally I react and overreact badly.

J sees it as me battling against him, and that's the last thing I want to do.  We always say we are a team.  It's one of his catchphrases for whenever we have a bump in the road.  We're a team!  We're in this together.  I should chant that to myself before I open my mouth, to remind myself that I am not his mom, I am not that naggy henpecking type of wife, I'm not his boss.  J has a tendency to ask for my opinion, a lot.  Most of the time it's on innocuous subjects like matching a shirt with dress pants, or will I read an email he's writing and let him know if it sounds okay, or what should we buy his mom for Mother's Day.  And of course, sometimes he makes these same decisions without me and I am fine with that.  But I am also sometimes quick to tell him the green shirt doesn't go with the gray pants, or his mother doesn't wear the necklace we got her last year so why buy her another one this year.  I have a tough time drawing the line on what is constructive criticism and support, and what is just plain damn control and nitpicking.

For months now he's been asking my thoughts about buying a particular kind of car.  Well it's a car I absolutely can't stand, I think they are ugly, and I don't think they are a car for a manly man to drive.  So every time he brings it up, I am utterly and completely negative about it.  I say ridiculous things like, well that's a girl car, anything to talk him out of it because I don't like the car.  But then I will say, like a snot, well it will be your car, you do whatever you want.  Of course at that point, I've spent ten minutes ranting about how much I would hate it and I wouldn't want to ride in it.  The damage is done, my point was made, he has been beaten down.  WHY WHY WHY!  It's a fucking car, and more than that, it's HIS fucking car.  He works hard, we have the money, why am I being such a petulant child about it?  What does it matter?!?! 

WHY AM I THIS WAY?

I have GOT to stop this.  My husband wants a certain car, and he deserves it, no matter what I may think about it.  I am scared about getting rid of our current vehicle, the fun and fast convertible we've had since we were dating.  But it's a car, I've attached all sorts of crazy sentimental emotions to it.  J has wanted to sell it for five years now, and I keep saying NO.  Why?  The fear of change?  The fact that I think I have to control every decision we make?  I don't know.

That's just one small example, it's the one facing us currently.  People sell cars and buy new cars every minute of the day.  Hell, I got a new car last year.  If it was MY idea to sell the old sports car and get a new one, it would be cool, and J wouldn't care.  But it's like it's because it was his idea, that I can't let it go, I can't process it and be fine with it.  My husband is an amazing man, with sound judgment, outstanding morals, intelligence.  Wouldn't it be so much easier on my anxiety, so freeing for me to just let him make the decisions and be okay with them?  He won't steer me wrong, he won't let me fall, his decisions are for "us" and what's best and he will take care of me.  J always makes certain my needs are met, no matter what he has to do.  Why can't I shake off the anxiety, the tightness, and give him the the respect and freedom he deserves?  I've got got got got got to work on this.

I've got to work on this right now, because with this move to the new house, we have a million billion decisions to make.  I cannot allow myself to control every single one.  I won't.  J works very very hard, he's made a lot of sacrifices, to take this traveling job.  His personal comfort, never being at home, missing us and me missing him too.  But it was a great opportunity and now it's allowing us to make this move to the new house.  I need to remind myself of that whenever he wants to do something, or buy something, or go somewhere- even if I don't want to or don't agree.  THAT is compromise, that is a true partnership.  One person caving all the time is not.  Eventually that person is going to be so far deep down in a hole, they will tunnel their way out and move on to a better place where they can live their own life the way they want to.  I don't want to lose my husband over decisions about paint colors or lighting fixtures. It's not worth it!  I have an amazingly patient husband, but even so, there are limits for everyone I believe.

Arg, it's frustrating and sad to know I am like this.  Why am I still making him drive a car we bought in 2004, just because I am overly fond of the memories we've had in it over the years.  It's a broken down money pit we hardly ever drive anymore.  The wonderful memories will always be there. LET. IT. GO.  Let J plan where we go to eat lunch on Saturday, and when.  Let him hang the silly sports posters in his office if he wants to.  Let him wear those crazy bright blue tennis shoes he picked out and bought without me last week. Let him decide how to design the new signs he is making.  It's like I can't even sit back and allow him that, I have to have my finger in every tiny pot, stirring.

Let it go and let my husband be happy with making a decision and let ME be happy letting him do it!  Why is my little world so complicated?  Why am I MAKING it complicated, more than it ever needs to be?  Me and my anxiety and my stupid control issues.  I need help.

MISS GEE

Change Your Brain

I had to start this post over again, wiping out a few paragraphs filled with negativity.  All I wanted to say was how very excited I am about having a greenhouse at the new home up in the mountains, and I went off on a tangent about how much I hate our current neighbors and how miserable they make me and how I can't wait to get away from them.

I don't know why my mind automatically goes to the negative, to the anger, to the unhappiness.  I see potential problems where others see unlimited possibilities.  I hear a suggestion and my mind shuts it down, while other people are always open to new ideas and embracing change.  I want to cast off my old way of thinking, this Debbie Downer, this Negative Nelly in me.  I want to learn to say and think "I can" and "I will" instead of "I can't" or "I won't", and not just say it but believe it!  I want to stop hating, to stop staying in this continual mode of always being pissed off at the world.  I am only holding myself back from life, by seeing the darkness and never the light.

What I wanted to say in this post, is how very much I am looking forward to the opportunity to grow my own fresh vegetables and herbs, to cook healthier, to experiment with new recipes.  Instead I looked out the window here and went on a crazy rant about how we don't spend any time outside at our current house because of the people who live next to us.  Why did I have to go there?  I just deleted it all.  Focus on the future, focus on the excitement, focus on the dreams and the plans and the possibilities.  Stop worrying about what others do and say, stop letting my head get crammed with all the things that bother me and instead fill it up with the simple satisfaction of living a good life, and being blessed with good fortunes.

I know that a large part of my depression, is how my brain processes the normal ups and downs of every day life.  People always remark to me that I am always happy, but that's just the forced smile I show them all, the pretend laughter.  I rarely feel happiness inside.  J is the only one who knows it, who senses it.  He will ask me "why are you never happy?" and I don't know how to answer him.  If I knew the answer, I would give anything to put a plan into action and change the way my mind thinks!  My one good friend here is studying a very specific branch of psychology and she's been having practice sessions with friends who volunteer.  After talks with me, she said I'm complicated and she needs more training before she can help me.  I could have told her that!

I know all the inspirational stories on the news, blah blah, about people overcoming odds and fighting for survival and never giving up hope.  My thoughts always go straight down the crapper from the outset.  Why can't I learn to be grateful and accepting and bare, instead of hunching inwards and closing myself up?  Why does my mind think of a post about flowers, and suddenly it becomes a tirade, a toxic monologue about other people?

What makes one person lean towards the negative, and another person always seems to have a sunny disposition?  Brain chemistry?  Environment?  I had the perfect, fun, happy childhood but I'm always grumpy and gloomy.  J spent his young years working hard and having a tougher go of things, but he is the most positive person I know.  I am SO tired of always being so upset and unhappy and down.  The negativity is powerful, it is poisonous.  It holds me back from doing the things I really want to do, it keeps me stuck in a bad place in my head.  I want to actually be- in real life- that productive, animated, chipper person I always portray on social media.

I want to feel real hope and optimism and sunshine on my face.  I don't know if this is an inherited trait, or if I can retrain my brain to learn to think this way.  J is like that.  Oh, not smugly happy, but he always sees the finest in people, in situations, he always has positive ideas, he always expects the best outcome.  My mind immediately goes to what could go wrong and how hard it will be and what if it doesn't work out?  Why can't I just smile and say YES and think oh how wonderful, and really really mean it!

But anyhow, back to my original post idea, I AM supremely excited to have this little workshop and greenhouse on our new property.  Well, it will be ours at the end of this week when we close.  I can't wait to plant tomatoes and peppers, rosemary and cilantro, marigolds and lavender and whatever else I can stick in a pot.  I look forward to making fresh salsa and drying herbs for my stews and sauces.  I am counting the days until we can relax on the front porch with coffee, or spend an evening on the back deck watching the birds and roasting marshmallows over a fire. And I want chickens! Okay, I'm getting ahead of myself, but I'm trying for that optimism and joy!

MISS GEE

Freeze Frame

So plans change at a whim, as they usually do.  This weekend we were supposed to go see the new house again, walk through it, take photos, measurements, yadda yadda.  But J had to stay out of town for work over the weekend, because of some issues with a potential strike of union employees.  And when the corporate office says you can't come home, you can't come home. But the good news is, he will be home Tuesday and off the rest of the week.  Yay!  So, it's a give and get situation, and considering that means he will be home for three entire days to HELP me with the big blow out yard sale on Saturday, well, I will take it.  I think it's been harder on him though, he's been calling and texting me constantly, and it was snowing yesterday there, but I think he's just more bored than he is blue.

My Friday was normal-  my weekly support group meeting at 7:30am, errands.  But once I got home, I knew I was done.  It has been a glorious weekend, sunny, cold, clear skies, joyful birds, blooming flowers.  Those days when everything is super bright azure and deep green. I just didn't want to go back out into the world.  And quite frankly, I don't want to be out in my yard either with my horrible foul neighbors always outside prowling around.  So I spent the weekend alone in the house.  Not happy but not sad, just eh.  That's me lately, eh.  If you can still be alive and have a flat line on the machine, that would describe how I feel anymore.

For some reason I decided to start sorting through all the old photos.  I think I mentioned it in my last post.  And I really do have other things I need to be doing, but once I get an idea stuck in my head, I sort of do it and damn the consequences.  So right now I have a dining table covered in photo albums and boxes.  I spent hours going through it all yesterday and barely made a dent.  Most of the photos are old, because once I got a digital camera, I stopped printing out photos.  These boxes are filled with prints from my old 35mm camera, and what's worse is back then- if you are old enough to remember- you always got a free second set of photos!  Not only am I sorting photos, but all the duplicates as well.

Because they are old, it's been really hard for me to go through them.  But it's because they are old, I am not carrying them with me into the new house.  Since we moved into this house, these photos have been down in our basement.  When we move into the new house, with our limited space, well, I've got to cut the number down drastically.

It's easy to say that the photos of the ex have to get dumped.  At first I thought I might struggle with tossing them, not because I still have feelings for him, but just because of my hoarding issues.  The way I attach sentimental value to things.  I've talked about how for me, tossing old cards and letters fills me with tremendous guilt, because I feel like I'm trashing my past.  I was really worried I would feel that way when I started throwing away the old photos too.  I had this insane idea of boxing up the photos of him, and the next time I went out of town (so the postage wouldn't reflect my current location) I would mail them to him.  I don't know where he lives, but he has a business and that address is online.  I don't know why I even considered that he would want the photos, or even care, and more than that I was afraid it would open up a can of worms.  Some things are just better off left dead and buried.

The first time I went to Vegas was with W, but J and I have been out there many times, and I have those photos and memories.  I have beautiful photos of New Orleans from when W and I visited it, but you know, J and I have been there too and those photos are MUCH more important to me.  And I don't exactly want to sit around and reminisce about my days with W.  When I think about the trips with W, I think about the fighting and screaming and long silences and hurtful words that always always always punctuated everything we did, even vacations.  Photos from those years remind me of all the pain.  Why would any sane person want to cling to those reminders?  It's amazing how much a tiny slip of color paper can wring emotions from the deepest part of your brain.

Once I started the process, I found all the old anger and hatred and fear and hopelessness welling up inside of me, all feelings he stirred in me during our 13 years together.  I did not feel any "good" feelings when I looked at him.  I kept thinking, what a waste of a human being.  He was handsome, he was smart, he was once ambitious and could have done great things.  The man interviewed at freakin' NASA!  But he let drugs and partying pave the way for laziness and apathy, and he disintegrated in front of my very eyes into a worthless piece of shit who hated women, tormented me, and wasted his potential.  I thought about the years of my life that could have-should have been happy, but how I spent them instead cowering into this little pathetic shell of the person I had once been. At the end of our relationship, I had changed as much as he did, and neither of us for the better.  He destroyed both of us.  So it became extremely easy to toss the glossy images of his shaggy curls and blue eyes and easy grin away into the garbage.  He did the same to me when we were married.

There were a lot of photos that made me sad.  Photos of my old dog, of my cat who recently died- both from cancer.  But happy photos too. Photos of old friends, family photos from childhood, baby photos of my now-grown nephews.  Pictures from high school marching band, from Disney, from the beach, from concerts. Those are the ones that will be harder to sift through.  Even though they evoke pleasant memories and warm feelings, and I laugh and smile when I look at them, realistically how often am I going to sit and look at these?  Honestly this is probably the first time in ten or more years I've gone through them.  It made me think back to a few years ago, when J's grandmother passed away at 94.  She was still living in her home, so she had never needed to let go of any of her possessions.  After she was gone, I can remember sitting with J's mother and aunt on the living room floor, sorting through hundreds of old photos.  And while I'm sure they meant the world to granny, none of us recognized a single blurry face looking back from the black and white squares.  They all went into the trash.  When I'm gone, my remaining photos will end up in the same place I'm sure, because whoever takes on the daunting task of cleaning up my belongings will have the same blank stare on their face when they look through my albums.

My goal for right now is JUST to get rid of the ones with W in them, or from trips he and I took together, or just any of the ones from my life with him.  The exception being any photo with the dog in it.  I do have hundreds of photos of just the dog.  But at least that many more of him with W in the frame as well.  I thought about sitting and cutting W out of the picture, but then what will I do with a stack of half-cropped photos.  At what point do I say, I have eight hundred pictures of the dog, I can't keep them all.  And then I know I will have to go through them again, and then again, until I have a manageable number of treasured portraits of loved ones and pets.

But that's what downsizing is all about, getting rid of the excess, the burden, the cumbersome possessions.  And I'm glad that we are making the choice now to downsize ourselves, so that we can do it on our own terms, at our own pace.  Instead of doing it twenty years from now because we are too sick or frail to stay in our home, and we have two days to decide what to keep and what to discard before we get carted off to a studio apartment at the assisted living home.  I don't think anyone can argue that being in control of your own destiny feels pretty fucking awesome.  So hang onto it as long as you can, because like I said, plans change at a whim.

MISS GEE

Full Calendar

I shouldn't be blogging today, I have a MAJOR to-do list, but right now I can't face it, I just need a small break.  Plus I am extremely and deeply sad today, that a longtime family friend has passed away very suddenly, and I can't shake that heartache.

It's very disappointing to have had a few happy and excited posts, and to go straight to feeling hopeless and dismal again.  The thought of the new house wasn't enough to sustain me.  True, I do get excited talking about the house with J, and making plans, and talking about the future and what we want to do before, during, and after the move.  And although in about a month the house will (hopefully) be officially ours, we're still sticking to the idea of taking 1-2 years before we move there permanently.  In the meantime, LOTS to do.  The only relief I have, as far as my anxiety, is that we ARE taking so long to pack up here and move.  And J will be there with me.  The first yard sale is in just two weeks, and we've decided we aren't going to try to sell everything on one Saturday.  Which I am 100% perfectly okay with, because it's not possible.  People will think it's a "haul away" day from an episode of "Hoarders" if I tried to put out all the crap on one afternoon.

Last week my body was rocking and rolling, but my mind was not in sync. I floundered and stumbled, a lot. This week my brain is racing with ideas and thoughts, but my body doesn't want to cooperate.  I can't seem to EVER get the two to coordinate with each other.  So for this week, mostly what I've done is keep a notebook and pen at the ready, writing down my intentions and plans and schedule.  I can't seem to do much more than that.  We had a big antique/craft show recently where we set up a large booth, and this last weekend I had my first craft show for 2016, and I spent so much time and energy getting ready for them, I guess this week my body wants to crash.  So the most exciting thing I will do this week is watch all my Harry Potter DVD's and veg out. With working the show this weekend, I spent two days on Vicodin with all the terrible pains associated with putting up a tent, tables, unloading boxes, standing on my feet all day, etc.  I love the shows, but my body hates me for it afterward.

So the big gigantic neighborhood yard sale is in two weeks.  Then at the end of April we've signed up for another antique/craft show.  We've got one in the middle of May, and another one at the beginning of June, another one in July.  And in between, our other weekends are already full.  This weekend it's driving up to see the new house and make another walk-through.  Then drive back up for the closing two weeks later.  Then back up there again for Mother's Day for his family.  Then Memorial Day weekend my parents will be here for several days, and we promised we would take them up to see the house (plus we are thinking about another yard sale that weekend too).  We have a big out of town concert this month.  J has a huge work function to go to one Saturday in May. We have a vacation planned.  So, my calendar is completely booked up through somewhere into the middle of JULY already!!!  And between weekends my days are busy with my normal errands, housework, making jewelry, running Etsy shops, eBay orders, packing up what we sell, digging through the clutter in the basement.  For someone who doesn't have a real "job" anymore, I barely have time to catch my breath some days.  And if you read my blog, then you know I don't really have the physical stamina or the mental energy to carry on like that.

I am working on pricing items for the yard sale in two weeks.  I'm sorry, maybe it's just the OCD in me, but I've GOT to have a price tag on every little thing, even if it's only 25 cents.  J is the type, just throw it on a table and when someone asks, quote them a price.  I can't do it that way.  I don't want to be put on the spot and have to make hundreds of snap decisions like that on a Saturday afternoon.  Plus, whenever I go to shows or flea markets, I'm usually too shy to ask about prices if an item isn't marked.  And I always pay full price, I'm again too shy to dicker.  J will say, hey I'll give you five bucks for that, for something marked $20- he's not too proud to look for a bargain!  So my house is a disaster, I've got yard sale stuff spread out all over the dining room table, all over the basement, all over the garage.  The guest bedroom is covered with all the Etsy and eBay items.  In my craft room my two work tables are completely covered with new necklaces I'm working on. Trying to keep it all organized but trying to work on every bit of it as much as I can.  We just have so much SHIT.  I try to put it into perspective- the house is a wreck because we're getting rid of things, but it's hard to look at the disorganization, the piles, and not think wow this mess is all my fault.

J has also tasked me with really getting down and dirty and start listing as much as I can on my Etsy vintage shop.  Plus we are both starting to list on eBay.  And I also spent Sunday creating an Etsy shop for him, for the new crafts he is working on.  All he has to do is make his signs, I will manage everything else for him. Photos, listings, packing up and mailing.  Between Etsy and eBay, I go to the post office about three times a week right now.  So it's a lot going on, mentally. Physically, it's not really that much.  I'm trying my best, but I always have that voice in the back of my head that "my" best sucks compared to the rest of the world.  I mean, I just got off the phone with J, who is working in the mid-west right now.  He just finished working a 17-hour overnight shift, and he had to drive through a blizzard and over a foot of snow to get there and back.  Yes, really, and I'm sitting here whining because I don't have the energy to upload a few photos online or put a 50 cent sticker on an old coffee mug.

J has pretty much told me/asked me to focus on getting rid of things any way that I can, even if I donate.  He doesn't care.  Last weekend he went through all the old papers in his office filing cabinet and we had a nice little blaze going in our outdoor firepit with it all.  I'm going to try to do the same this week too.  I have an enormous problem with hoarding papers- old notes, Christmas cards from 20 years ago, recipes I've clipped out of magazines.  I've always dragged those things from house to house, and now I simply can't.  So it's a huge project, but I would hope that I can find the energy to do even this.  I mean, I can sit my ass on the couch and watch TV while I do this, how hard can it be?

Part of it for me is engaging the brain cells needed to make the decisions.  Keep, toss, donate.  And the things I've attached emotional importance to will be the toughest- they have no monetary value but I want to keep them.  I've saved every movie stub, airline ticket, vacation brochure, note, card from my life with J- obviously I don't want to part with those, even if I just have them all stuffed in a box somewhere.  Then I have all the photos I ever took during my years with my ex.  I have all my old college textbooks.  I have old magazines from the 1990's.  I have board games I haven't played in 20 years.  Just a lot of stuff that I've kept, and it's really uncalled for.  I don't even know where to begin.  And that's the hardest part.  But today I'm going to try to get started.  Even if I just clean out one drawer.  That recipe book I've had for 30 years but I've never made a single meal from?  What is the likelihood that I ever will?  Why do I need to keep it?  I find most of my recipes online these days, like the rest of the world.  Why is it so hard to let go of things like this?  My mom goes to the dollar store and buys the same Easter card for me every year, why am I saving these, will I go back and read them one day?  No.

But it feels like I'm throwing away my history, my past, a part of me.  I know there are certain things I won't let go of.  I'm not going to throw away photos of my late dog from my first marriage, but I sure as hell don't need to keep all the vacation photos of my ex.  But I literally have several boxes of photos to go through. I can't sit and look at every single one and make a decision on each one individually.  Yes, that's a pretty shot of the mountains or the beach, but it's from 25 years ago, do I need it?  No one is even in the picture, and I know I took it on a trip with the ex.  Do I want it?  Why?  Get rid of it!!  It has no place in my current life, in my new home, in my future.

I am not going to get stressed out this soon into the process.  I've got loads of time to do all of this.  Our goal is to hopefully move by the end of 2017, and that is enough breathing room for even someone as slow as I am to complete thinning out the hoard.

MISS GEE