Monday - my compulsive hoarding is found out; threatened with eviction; I spill everything to my friend DB, who helps me start.
Tuesday - I call for help; Regi answers and I meet her at my apt. She questions, assesses, takes pics and arranges to come back on Sunday, tells me everything will be cleaned up and cleaned out in one day.
Wednesday through Saturday - I toss out 4 bags of shoes, do what I can and cry a lot.
Sunday morning, I'm up at 6 o'clock. On shaky legs, with a stomach equally shaky, I look around my apartment thinking I can't recall what it even is supposed to look like. Clothes are piled in the middle of my room as well as on a chair in the corner; shoes are shoved in a shoe rack in an effort to make it look 'clean' (yeah right); books, magazines, papers, mail, bags are piled on every available surface or stuffed into anything empty. There was nothing I could do. I needed a place to start but just could not do it by myself. I sat on my bed, crying and shaking; feeling so desperate and helpless; overwhelmed and without hope. Despite all of Regi's assurances, there was no light at the end of the tunnel, in my mind.
Regi and her crew of 2 (Annette and Eric) showed up at 10 a.m. ready to go. They walked in and tore my shit up. Taking one area at a time, one piece at a time, the 3 of them went through my stuff tossing, packing: DVDs go here, CDs there, shoes up here, books over here, etc.
To my credit, I didn't cry while they were here. I did, however, rock back and forth on my bed, all the while making decisions about what to keep, what to toss. This was so difficult! I didn't - I don't - understand how I've become so attached to things, to these so-called possessions. Saying 'no, toss it out' was incredibly emotional and more than a little painful. I truly wish I could accurately describe my feelings during the process, during the day...for me just as much as for you reading this.
I was embarrassed to have people in my apartment, eyewitnesses to how I 'live' in unliveable conditions. I was shamed and humiliated by so many things. I *am* shamed and humiliated by so many things.
At 5 o'clock, Regi and her crew of 2 left. In their wake is an apartment with a place for everything. And a grateful girl whose life has been given back to her. I sat on the floor - which, I must confess, I hadn't seen for quite some time - and cried. Relief, release and happiness.
I still have a long way to go with a lot of things to left to do.
What I also have is hope.