Sorting Through Ten Years Of Stuff
For pretty much most of my life, my room has been a mess. I’ve always considered myself someone who is a bit disorganized and a little messy, but it’s never really been noticeable because I’ve lived with my parents my whole life, and my mom always picked up after me before I’d even start to notice that I’d made a mess at all. Now that I’m not a child, and I treat my mom like a maid way less, I’ve noticed that maybe I don’t have all my eggs in my basket.
My room has never been, like, dirty. There’s no dishes piled up, no food rotting, and there certainly aren’t bugs and muddy shoes in the corners. It’s not filthy or anything. It’s always just been very full of stuff. Mostly clothes. In fact, more often than not, the thing preventing my bed (and floor) from being seen is stacks of clean, folded clothes that my mom has laundered for me and left for me to put away. But I never put them away, so they just end up hanging out.
For years, my room has been a point of stress for me. I don’t enjoy being in my room, I never hang out in my room, and I never showed friends that came over my room. Every time I looked at it, I would just feel overwhelming stress and anxiety. I wanted it clean. But how could I go about cleaning it? It seemed like so much work, and even thinking about it was too much effort.
The only thing I’ve used my room for for the past few years is getting dressed in it, and sometimes sleeping in it (I actually sleep on the couch a lot because I can’t be bothered to move everything off my bed so I can sleep on it).
So, needless to say, it was time for a change. But, like I said, the very idea of change was so incredibly overwhelming, I almost would’ve rather continued to suffer than even begin to attempt to clean it.
Basically, my issue is that I have too many clothes. My closet and two dressers were completely packed with clothes, and everything that was laying around my room was clothes that I just didn’t have space for. I physically could not put away my clothes, they had nowhere to go.
So, why not just get rid of some clothes? Certainly I don’t need that many when I really only wear like, the same five outfits over and over again, right? I seem to have a bit of hoarding tendencies, though. I can’t seem to let go of stuff. I want my stuff. I bought it because I like it, so why would I get rid of it? What if I get rid of it and then miss it? I can’t bear to let go of things, even if I didn’t remember I had it until I saw it.
I knew that cleaning my room would be hard for me, and push me out of comfort zone, but I truly felt it had to be done. I can’t continue living life with my own bedroom making me miserable everyday. So, I took to the closet. Without a doubt, the closet is the biggest issue. This is because for the past decade, everything I don’t need has been shoved in there. Everything I’ve decided to just put out of sight and get back to later, now bursting out into the rest of my room.
To prepare, I went to the store and bought the entire supply of extra large totes. They had six, which seemed like plenty, if not one or two too many. However, I ended up filling every single tote to the brim by emptying my entire closet. Pajamas I wore in fourth grade, board games and harmonicas from my childhood, friendship bracelets from summer camp, art supplies from every year of elementary school, con badges through the ages, so much fucking shit.
I filled two big trash bags with things I could actually bring myself to toss (like the boxes of crayons from third grade), and then put all the totes in the basement. Currently, my closet now stands empty for the first time in my life since we moved in in 2001.
It took a few hours, but I was on a grind and managed to get through the hardest part. Then, I took a break, and now it’s been two days since I’ve touched it. I have a very bad habit of starting something, taking a break, and then never returning to it. It’s a lifelong problem, and I knew that if I tried it with my room, I’d do the same thing, but I did it anyways. Now I have to re-motivate myself to get back to it.
I keep telling myself the hardest part is already over, so it should be easy to get back to working on it, but good lord I do not want to continue working on it. I just want it to be done. But it takes longer than a couple hours to undo years of disorganization and neglect.
My long term plan is to paint, put in new carpet, get a bed frame, and get new furniture. Why so much change, you may ask? Well, when I was eleven, my parents got the entire house painted and carpeted, and I got to pick whatever colors I wanted for my room. Up until then, I’d had white carpet and white walls, and I was eleven, so obviously I picked purple carpet and black and pink walls. Over a decade later, I am so beyond sick of it.
This time, I’m thinking of going for light blue walls with a light grey accent wall, light grey carpet, white baseboard, and white dressers. But we’ll see what I actually end up deciding on after I manage to finish cleaning my room.
Definitely a bit of a first world problem here, but it’s exhausting having so many material possessions, I don’t want this many! But it’s almost painful for me to not have stuff. I can’t get rid of it, though simultaneously I feel desperate to be rid of it, y’know?
Anyways, taking care of my room is something that is a long time coming. As difficult as it is, I wish I’d done it sooner. I’ve literally been unhappy with it for years. Like how do I do that to myself?! How do I let my own room be a problem in my life? No longer, I say!
I thought about taking before and after pictures, but I don’t think I could stand to let anyone see how bad it was. It was a depression den. I don’t want people to see that, you know? I want my room to look nice and neat and pretty, not be a visual representation of my declining mental health.
So, yeah, the end of this post is me vowing to myself and to y’all that as soon as I submit this post, I’m going to go work on my room! I have to get through it! It’s almost done. I can do this. Right? Right.