feels like the first time...

Up to my elbows with plastic grocery bags, I somehow maneuvered my keys into their proper slots in my front door. Twisting and turning to get in before groceries fell out, I saw my apartment. I truly *saw* my apartment.

I saw space where shoes had been. The shoes that now sit in my closet because I cleared out the clutter. I faced the hoarding that had been hidden and got rid of it. There was a lot of it. Shoes have replaced my secret.

I saw space where boxes once sat. The boxes that now sit in the dumpster along with most of their contents. I opened those boxes, faced the contents and got rid of it. I can walk through. I can dance through. I can move in my space.

I saw space where clothes had been piled, where REAL SIMPLE magazines had been stacked. I saw space where there been no space 30 days ago.

And, I fell to my knees and cried.

a little progress, a little piece

3 drawers cleared, cleaned out. I was able to toss most of the stuff in those drawers; though one was filled with pictures. Loads and loads of pictures spanning my life. It would have been so easy (and, typical) for me to stop and reminisce over each picture...but I didn't! Nope. I left them in the drawer and moved a few other related items in (frames, photo album, etc) to be dealt with and moved at a later date. It was easy to stick to my plan.

I moved the tea cups and saucers from the kitchen ledge to another drawer, taking time to wipe each one clean. I had earmarked an article in one of the REAL SIMPLE magazines oh-so-long ago, the idea sticking with me for a couple of years - use mismatched tea cups and saucers as jewelry holders. Brilliant! When I arrive home, my habit is to kick off my shoes at the front door, remove jewelry and drop it on the TV stand. When I leave home, my habit is to grab jewelry for the day and put on shoes. I need to remove that clutter from the front door area. So, with the tea cups and saucers fitting perfectly into one of the drawers, I moved my jewelry in...soooo cute! Necklaces, earrings and such in little tea cups; bracelets and bangles on saucers. I may have to move 'em to a bigger drawer so I can fit more tea cups in...but that's for another day.

I cleared out more...wait...ooh! I cleared out FOUR drawers! Yay me.

Then, I sat on the floor and sorted through papers. Good grief I have a lot of papers! Most of it is junk mail and coupons and PennySavers and crap and more crap. I went through a couple of bags stuffed with crap and a box of stuff previously in my car.

I now have clear space. Not little foot paths...true actual clear space. Space! I may actually be able to walk across my floor in the dark without my glasses. OK. That's a bit extreme (maybe)...but it's space. Space as a result of progress. Space as a result of me *doing something* instead of *saying something* - and it's a peaceful feeling. I did hit an emotional block. I did sit for a bit, anxious and stressing. So, I left it and moved to something else. That was new - moving on instead of sitting and wrapping myself up in the stress and emotion. I changed the music and moved around it.

I now believe my April 30th deadline is honestly truly doable. I believe I can do this. Hell, I AM doing it!

I'm proud of myself...and feeling a little peace.

Yeah, I feel good :)

NaBloPoMo 7.11 - Do Something!

For the past few weeks, I have been emailing a girl who came across my blog via NaBloPoMo. She asked several pointed questions about my compulsive hoarding; and I answered as honestly as possible. The last email she sent was interesting: No offense or anything but why don't you stop talking about it and DO something. No offense taken.

I talk about it because it is a huge part of me, my life. I talk about it because I need help to DO something. I talk about it because I can't be the only one struggling with hoarding. I talk about it because I need the support and encouragement and understanding. I talk about because if I don't, I will live with it, add to it and ignore it. If I don't talk about it and I live with it, add to it and ignore it, it will consume me. And I refuse to let that happen! I am bigger than this. I am better than this. I know I can't do this on my own. I have tried; and though progress is being made, it isn't enough.

DO something?! I am! I struggle every single day over throwing away a receipt, a magazine, mail, anything, everything. I threw out two boxes of junk mail and magazines yesterday. Damn, that was a lot. Small steps...but they keep moving me forward.

I've decided to do it 'their' way - throw that shit out. 'They' say it's so easy. 'They' say if there's no need for it, no use for it, throw that shit out. If you say so. Next weekend, that is exactly what I'm going to do.

I will need help. A couple of people who will keep me on task, tell me those green capris are not coming back in-style, the red shoes are too beat up to keep; a couple of people willing to help me out.

So...there...I have asked for help.

And it did kill me a little bit inside.

NaBloPoMo 7.2 - Save it for Later

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.

Creative Writing Homework 04.06.10

Homework assignment - our character experiences an epiphany that alters his/her life. This didn't turn out how it was supposed to...

I've been writing my homework for three days. It's not coming. Well, that's a half-truth ~ words for my homework are not coming. Words for what's rolling in my mind are coming fast and furious. It's this damn clutter! Clutter, mess, compulsive hoarding, piles, piles, piles, mess. I've stopped making progress. I was content to sit back and accept what I had accomplished and call it done. I was content to test myself, ensure I could maintain, not undo what I had done. "I'll just lay this sweater here. I'll hang it up later/tomorrow/this weekend." That sweater was covered by this shirt and that scarf and this jacket and this sweater and these magazines and this jacket I wore because that other jacket is is somewhere in this pile. OK, hang it up. Okay - moving forward. Aw crap! Now it's wrinkled! I have to iron it/take it to the cleaners. There's a pile for that over here but it's too high, so I'll leave it in this pile so the clothes don't fall and create a mess. All the clothes are wrinkled so I'll just leave them where they are. And that's what I do. That's how I think. Twisted, right? Yeah, it is. You can say it. And, as I clear out my living space, I've noticed the weight gain. Losing protection in one area, transferring ti to another. I started to tell myself that it's focus - focus on my apartment now, focus on me later. Then I realized what I'm doing - the protection thing. The overeating is causing some minor health issues that scare the fuck outta me. Yet, I continue to overeat. Most of the time, I stop myself. But the emotions need to be quelled and food is what does it. Sadly, I can't have the final Creative Writing class at my place. I wish I could see it as a goal instead of feeling it as pressure. Then Mom called upset that I won't let her help me. She doesn't understand why I will allow my friends to help but not my own mother. Shame humiliation embarrassment. That's why she can't help.

Open the Door and Let Him In...

Six people have been in my apartment since confessing I am a hoarder.

The 7th person came in today.

I haven't had gas in my apartment for ten years. Yeah, I know. I've had no heat. I use the microwave or crock pot to cook, or simply order take-out. Today, I had the gas turned back on in my apartment.

I spent most of the morning cleaning & clearing more stuff, clearly wishing I had a normal apartment before letting someone else in. The guy knocked around 1 o'clock and I hesistantly let him in.

To his credit, he didn't startle or blink. But after the third time out then in, he said "My mom and sister are hoarders. Like, really bad. Like the ones on that TV show." Blink blink "I'm a hoarder myself. But not like the ones on TV." Then he walked out. Blink blink He did his thing ~ lighting the pilots, cleaning the vents and lines and such. I told him my apartment has been a work-in-progress for 2 years. He said congrats and told me to keep moving forward. Then, he left.

I'm encouraged now more than ever.

Creative Writing In-Class Assignment 02.16.10 - Look What I Found in the Dumpster...

We're given a prompt and 12-13 minutes to write...

Look what I found in the dumpster...

it's my life...in black Hefty trash bags!

I spent my Monday morning in the throes of decluttering. You'd think I'd have nothing left in my apartment...you'd be incorrect, Sir!

Like I said, I spent my Monday morning decluttering. I started with a set of drawers - purposedly untouched because I know what lurks inside. Bills, magazines, receipts, mail, letters, notes, crap, crap and more crap.

Crayons, markers, coloring books. Really?

Boxes of stamps and ink from my "crafty" period.

Tons of scrapbooking items from my "craty" period, phase II.

Pictures from my last day of teaching in 2000 of kids I don't remember.

Cards from people all over the world congratulating me on my pageant win. In 1997.

Without thought, these pieces of me were thrown into black trash bags, tied up and left outside my apartment door. I moved on to three stacked drawers and attacked with the same fervor and absence of thought - toss, tie, outside the door.

As I dragged the last of six bags down to the dumpster, I stared at the scene. Pieces of me and my life in six black trash bags, sitting in a dumpster. I ran upstairs and right into bed.

I thought this process would be freeing, lifting a burden, relief and release. Not yesterday. It was almost paralyzing. It's left me raw and exposed and feeling extremely vulnerable.

I know this is a good thing. Or, it will be. But yesterday, I found pieces of me in the dumpster and that sucked.

you know that dream where you're naked in front of everyone...?

That's how I'm feeling.
This whole Project Clutter has left me feeling incredibly vulnerable and exposed and raw. And, I don't wear it well.
Decisions...choices...reactions...actions...all made by True Reese...but the aftermath of feelings and reactions to those decisions/choices/reactions/actions are taken over by Vulnerable Reese. I'm a bit of a mess. I'm cluttered.
*Sigh*
I'll push forward, because that's what I have to do; it's what I intend to do.
Let's hope everything else aligns and becomes decluttered as well...

Operation: ClutterCleanUp Day 2

Step 1 - Operation: Clutter Clean-Up

:::exhale:::

Wow! Quite a bit accomplished in 3 hours. Ain't gonna lie to ya - I'm pretty amazed.

Though exhausted, I slept fitfully last night. I was up around 5a, watching The West Wing; not paying attention, just distracted enough to keep the edge off the anxiety. Around 8a, I decided to channel that energy into cleaning: cleaned the litter box, the toilet, the bathroom sink, counters and cleared out clothes from a drawer in the dressing room. The drawer wasn't too bad as it was mostly t-shirts and shorts I don't wear. Figured that was a good sign of things to come once B showed up.

She got here around 11:30a and went right to it. She had a plan, she was very systematic, pushed when I needed it and backed off at the appropriate times. In order to get through the tossing out, I had to do a lot of pre-emptive striking: before she could say "Do you really need/wear/want this/that/the other?" I had to do it. That helped and hurt; I threw out clothes without thinking. I didn't want B to say anything, I wanted it to look easy; like I was okay with it. I wasn't.

So, B had a plan: attack the closet first. Ai yi yi! We went through all the items, one by one. Some stayed, most didn't. It was so empty. That was the first painful twinge - you just threw out X-amount of money! Pushing that aside, we continued. I wasn't going to share this part because it shows my warped way of thinking...but that's why it should be shared. :::exhale:::

In my closet sat a white hamper. This white hamper used to sit in my parents' bathroom. Then, it was passed to me while I was in high school. This white hamper moved with me in and around Riverside then out to L.A. This white hamper sat in my closet, stuffed. I didn't know what it was stuffed with or how long it had been since I opened it (to me it was another flat surface on which to pile more things). B told me I had to get rid of it. Ohh, easy, Turbo! I had to go through it - what if there was a top I could wear? Or towels? Or something, anything I could wear in there?! B said if there is something in there a) I probably already bought one to replace it or b) it just doesn't matter now. So, sight unseen, the whole hamper was tossed. Without me looking in it. And that brought about another twinge - although I KNOW that was exactly what should be done.

We moved from the closet to the trifecta - the 3 places in my living space in which I pile clothes: the rolling rack, the stacked bins and the unstacked bins. The rolling rack was easiest as the clothes are on hangers already. We moved those into the recently cleared out closet. Then we tackled pile A - clean clothes. We put each piece onto a hanger then into the closet. Then, pile B - did the same thing. Clothes in the closet. Amazing.

3 hours, 3 trips to the trashbin, 4 bags to Goodwill, 2 baskets of laundry & dry cleaning, clothes on hangers in the closet. Not too bad for Step 1, eh?

To my credit, I didn't cry until B left.