I always felt it was easier to throw things out once a bad memory is created. Example, ‘OH – my throat is swollen from eating this fruit, it needs to be thrown out’ OR ‘These shoes gave me horrible blisters that then grew blisters upon the old ones!’
So why for the love of G-D do I eat things that are not good for me (Allergic/trigger stomach problems), or keep things that I cannot wear?
The starting point for this topic was because I came across a small decorative plate. Its adorable, Moroccan and shattered into miscellaneous sizes. When cleaning out my childhood home for sale; I boxed up as many things as I could to keep – unfortunately I also included some broken things as well as cat urine stained objects (Circa 2011 – 2009). Why am I keeping these miss-matched items?! I have so many cups and glasses and wine glasses and decorative bowls and NONE of them really match my personality.
Obviously the answer here is to have a yard sale…But I got attic space, small as it is.
BUT CLUTTER IS BAD FOR GENERAL HEALTH.
Still – it was my parents…
THE NEWSPAPER SMELLS LIKE URINE, THIS BOWL REAKS OF CAT URINE. HOW BADLY DO YOU NEED TO BE WEIGHED DOWN BY THE PAST?
At this point I have to laugh at my own inner conversation since I allowed myself to drown the past seven to eight years in pretty much depression over my parents, allowing all the hateful things my father had said prevent me from being happy, letting Mabibble’s destructive idiotic family put me down and then Gma didn’t exactly make me feel special or capable of doing anything great.
I know I can do amazing things; How is it possible that the only witness to this was my mother?
Why do my Aunts not provide positive reinforcement as they do to their own kids? I swear this is another culture barrier again since I KNOW if I were…Well whatever.
Its only been now 2 – 3 days on my own in this house and I don’t feel as miserable as yesterday; I stood before my kitchen sink and washed cups for a couple hours before my back began to hurt. After that I just sat on the floor and banged on the cups…Banged isn’t the right word, ‘tonked’, ‘tinked’? ‘Rapped’?
Nails on glass make pretty noise – chippy munk!
Yea…That works too.
Also had my first argument with one of the neighbors.
He wouldn’t stop barking at me, y’know I think even the birds here have beef with me. They bark too and then the berry colored poo…I can’t seem to make friends with the squirrels here as I did back in Brooklyn. I could stick a pretzel rod out the window and the sucker would take it in his little hands and eat in front of me. Shit too, but who really wants that?
I DID see a chipmunk when I was on the floor making music. I know if I begin feeding the wildlife I’ll lure in things to photograph…BUT I’ll also lure in unwanted buggy pests OR the rodents might think my roof/chimney a good place to squat.
Atleast I can finally chug apple sauce and no one will yell at me. and I can finally nap in the middle of the day while not feeling like its a sin (Gma hated this).
Does this sound like I am enjoying my independence?!
Just in time for the 4th of July I suppose..That holiday is all about independence and sacrifice and people dying…Sales.
I’ve been looking at furniture but if I can be honest here, I love sleeping in my living room with the tv and the back screen door open. I know there is another floor just waiting to be conquered in this house but why would I go up there when everything is down here?
Except the shower…But that’s what sinks are for…Kinda.
– Bad touch Bear