Thursday, August 6, 2009
The Manifestation of My Cry For Help
This is my room, my room on crack.
It has looked like this in some form or fashion for nine years now and well I am ready to face my demons and ready to sleep comfortably in my own room.
Like, I never believe it would get this out of hand, but as you see, and this is on a good day, it did. Now before you start judging me and calling me NASTY and DIRTY, let me explain the reason behind the madness.
9 years ago, I was pregnant with twins and they died. One lived for 3 hrs and the other was stillborn. When they died, so did something inside of me. It was like I was a zombie. I mean I got up and I bathed, on most days, and I ate, maybe once a week, and I went out from time to time....not really sure where. Most of the time, I did not feel like being bothered with anyone or anything that could talk. I just wanted to fade away. I just wanted to disappear. And well, things that I was
supposed wanted needed to do, I could not do.
I could not function. I walked past the mailbox everyday without stopping to take my mail. Most of the time it was filled with letters from stupid people who thought writing stuff like "God knows best" "Just Have Another One" and other buffoonery was helpful. (and in the interest of not overpopulating the cemeteries and adding one more body to the prison's rosters, I stop reading my mail.) Then there was always some bill that I could not afford and that would just depress me even more because I had always paid my bills on time. So, I just decided to stop opening and getting the mail. What was the need? I didn't want to read stupid letters from stupid people and I didn't want to look at bills I couldn't pay.
Now, I knew that I was suffering from PTSD , which was natural, but I didn't know that I would be dealing with it 9 years later. Well, I guess since my method of dealing with it was to not really deal with it, it only made sense that 9 years later, I was still avoiding opening my mail and taking it out of the mailbox. Even though I can afford to pay most of my bills now and most of the stupid people have gone their merry way.
Now, don't get me wrong, I have tried on several occasions to conquer this beast, but something always happens: somebody gets sick, somebody needs to eat, i run out of trash bags, i get sleepy, i lose my motivation
I have asked on several occasions for people to come over and assist me but something always comes up..well, i am finally putting my foot down and saying my room will be a place of refuge and serenity by the end of August even if I have to pay someone to do it for me.
It only makes sense to get rid of the physical clutter as I declutter my brain and my heart.
So here's to the countdown of cleaning for love.
"Physical clutter typically is a manifestation of mental clutter. Look around you, is there clutter? Are there things that you need to deal with and you just let it pile off saying you are going to deal with it another day? Don't let you another day come 9 years later. Free your mind and the clutter will follow."
~Gotta Luv Moi, Cuz I Sure Do (Smooches)