When I finally faced my compulsive hoarding a couple of years ago, I had to speak it out loud to others. It was tough to do that, tough to face. Hell, it's *still* tough to say it, face it. I received a lot of support and strength from friends and strangers. Those words continue to hold me up.
One such supporter is Melanie. I am not quite sure how it came about, but I told her she'd get my handbags. For a year or so, I have had a pile of handbags to send to her. I would move them from here to there; out of the box, back into the box. I saved the bags because 'what if' I wanted to use the yellow one again, someday? I saved them for later, certain I would need/use the bags again. Some of the bags were added back into rotation. Some were used for storage. OK, some are still used for storage.
Last week, I brought home an empty box from work, put 4 bags into it and took the box to my car. The next day, wrote out a label & card, taped that shit up and drove to the post office. All the while, aching to rip open the box, as if it were a gift for me, and use the bags. Well, not really use them as much as dump them in the middle of my floor so that I still have them. I didn't. Luckily, there was no line at the post office otherwise that would have been the case.
Melanie has the bags now. I'm sure she'll enjoy them. If she doesn't, I am okay with that. I was able to move past this hurdle. It's a huge small step for me.
Moving forward, taking small steps, making progress.
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