Confessions of a recovering shopaholic/hoarder

Who knew cleaning was do damn emotional? I mean, wow.
If you don't know what I am talking about it might be because you don't find it difficult to let go of things - perhaps you do not have "hoarder tendencies" like me but you may enjoy this post regardless.

I have been wanting to clear & clean out my house for quite some time. I have been in denial about how I live in a state of messy chaos and it's time to face the music - the crazy out of tune screaming un-melodic music of my constant state of disorganization. Not only does it cause me frustration but it puts a lot of weight on my relationship with Danny.
Enough.

I thought that since I had finally made the decision to do it that this would be well...easy.
WRONG.

I posted on facebook yesterday: "I will do anything for anyone who will come over and clean my house. It's bad, that's all I'm going to say."
I was totally serious, this was not a joke.
Shortly there after, I got a text from my babysitter that said "I will come help you."
She came over and as I began explaining what needed to be done. I was insecurely fumbling through what I thought was a chronological list of to do's. I felt like an alcoholic at an intervention. Making excuses and sighing a lot and saying "it's not that bad."

At one point throughout the day she came in to see what I was doing in my room. I had all my old beauty products and makeup splayed out on the carpet while I sat in the "little kid position" (one knee underneath bum and one knee hugged tightly into the chest) - crying.

"It's just so hard." I said. We chatted and laughed as I explained that although I have come to a decision that I don't want/need to wear makeup anymore - that I feel beautiful without it - it's still hard to actually take the physical steps to throw it all out. I feel it's a great big huge gigantic step to actually dispose of it. I may have made the conscious mental decision to not wear it but throwing away thousands (I'm not shitting you) dollars (hard earned dollars) worth of beauty products just really feels like an appendage being ripped off.
It's all part of me.

I realize I sound like a hoarder right now, but I'm an emotional gal who still has a pair of jeans in my closet from 2002, not just in the hopes that I can get into them again, but because I remember what I did in (and out) of those jeans. They are a memory of what I think of as a "simpler funner" time. I find it hard to let go of the past, like I'm shunning my old self in some way. It feels like throwing away pieces of myself. (I read this and I feel ridiculous - Gah, fuck Grace - really?!?).

I look around my house at all the things I have accumulated that have somehow become parts of me. I kept saying to Rylie - how did this happen? How did all this "stuff" make it into my house?
There have been many times where I have found myself in financial turmoil, spent more than I could afford because I NEEDED that thing to make me complete. Complete...ly broke...actually. I catch myself believing and convincing that these products will improve the way I feel about myself, about my life and about who I am as a person. They never did, and here I was still looking at them hoping that if I kept them neatly (ok not neatly at all) stuffed under my bathroom sink that through osmosis I would just feel richer, more beautiful and worthy.
"Look at this stuff, isn't it neat, wouldncha think my collections complete? Wouldntcha think I'm the girl, the girl who has everything?" - Ariel, The Little Mermaid

There were really so many realizations today -  about my relationship with money, my relationship with stuff and the times when those relationships have trumped my work in strengthen my relationship with my-self. Looking around at the piles of shit - I realized quite clearly - who I had become. I am not the girl I once was, and it's time for me to let go and move on. I am a strong woman who owns her shit, I am not going to let my piles consume me anymore. (This is where we cheer triumphantly and raise ours fists).

I mean really...what I am I going to wear these with...my hammer pants? 

It's time to let go, it's time to move forward and honour who I was. I can give myself credit for how far I have come and then release it all.
As I was packing up the makeup I said to Rylie "I just don't know what to do with all this - a lot of these products are not made ethically or with natural ingredients, I don't want to give them to someone else." She looked at me and said "Sure, but not everyone feels that way Grace. You could bring someone a moment of happiness."
Sigh - how profound!

(Disclaimer: not all of these products are terrible, I just don't use anything anymore - other than Bonnie's food based locally made products, wash and cream.)

As we went through clothes and I told her the stories about my green pants that I love so much, and my ripped jeans from 2003, she would say "And now they can make someone else happy."

I really just needed some support through it all. I didn't need someone to come and clean for me or throw out my shit I needed someone to come and help hold my hand while I said goodbye to these material objects that held so much of my energy.
Moving through the clothes, the old bills and papers, the makeup, the heaps of junk - was a big release. It was hard.
As I moved through my material shit, I move through emotional my shit.

A huge garbage bag full of the past!

With Love and Gratitude,

Grace Karyn