Today I cleaned out my physical closet.
And in doing so I also cleaned out a part of my mental closet. I let some things go.
I haven’t done that since my husband and I moved in here, over four years ago. And it, along with my mothers message, has stirred a lot up for me. A lot of unexpected things. And I’m finding it difficult.
I didn’t realize how many things I was keeping around to punish myself for failing in one way or another. There were race shirts and bibs for half marathons I never crossed the start line at. There were trinkets and messages and books from people I had lied to – designed to give me comfort, but I kept them as a way of reminding myself I was incapable of forming authentic relationships. There were gifts from my parents and family that didn’t fit me and that were not even close to being something I would wear or use… but that I kept out of some sort of guilt – hanging on to some physical evidence that maybe… maybe they actually love me.
This is a very lonely and hard time. I am incredibly sad right now. I have been taking time out between tasks to sit, and cry, and try to be with my emotions. I have been writing an emotion journal for N, for yoga on Monday.
Eventually I cracked in two ways. First, I had a drink (then two, then three). It’s about harm reduction right now – I have felt, continuously, a barrage of emotions for seven days – and am dangerously close to the limit of my capabilities.
Second, I emailed A and asked for another appointment this coming week. I need it, and I’m going to have to figure out how to pay for it, but I will. There is nothing more important right now than my mental health. I am selling a few of my things that I found and have decided to forgo pitching in on the car my husband and I were going to buy.
It’s going to be okay.
I have to believe that this impossibly hard time is worth it. I have to believe that at the end of this journey there will be a peace.