By: Revanche

Welcome to the Purge-atory

October 22, 2014

Please welcome your hosts, PiC as the (silent) Count of Craigslist, Department of Sales and Purchasing; me as the hybrid Judy Jetson, Department of Taking the Cash and Banking the proceeds and Rosie, Department of ruthlessly clearing out storage!

The last time I did this, it was a massive deep clean of my living space that I’d occupied like a fortified trench for over ten years.

I unearthed years of detritus, the inevitable anthropological build-up that accumulates in so many layers, marking milestones and marking time. One graduation, then another; the salient details rubbed away in the shifting sands of days, weeks and months.

Immersed in toxicity at the workplace and at home, facing an inevitable layoff, the survivalist bit of my brain drove forth insisting that if I physically removed the anchors that held me home, as if it were the overstuffed closet or bookshelf that kept me chained to my family and the job that paid their bills, if I did this thing, I could one day become free.  True, in some small sense.

It was also true that I was attempting to play out my final days, to make them my final days, by making it easier to clean up after me.

Ironically, the anchors that kept me home, and in that job, were the anchors that kept me from prematurely picking an end date. I couldn’t cause yet more stress, grief and pain. My sibling was already doing enough for both of us. And so responsibility both drove me forth and kept me here at the same time.

Mentally, that purge began as a good bye. It was an effort to take some control over a life that came with broken handles, a life I’d once grasped with both hands anyway, determined to ride it out despite the wounds and the scars that didn’t have time to heal.

Ages later, we’re wading back into the same battle but with completely different mindsets. This is a beginning, not a prospective ending.  I have no thoughtful reflections on the differences between now and then, except that this time is about as far away a reason as I had to do it before could be.

As we start our family, the thought of adding another body to this home causes my old claustrophobia to rise and my “one in, two out” rule is revived and the clearing out has begun in earnest.

We still haven’t finished anything to do with getting the wedding stuff sorted, putting together the photos as a start, but with Little Bean there’s a pretty clear deadline so the lead foot is on the gas.

* We’ve sold some furniture and more should be on its way out in short order either via Craigslist or as a gift to some younguns just starting out.

* I’ve tackled sections of the smaller storage where old electronics, endless cables and unidentifiable bits and bobs go to die except they don’t do you the favor of disintegrating. So that stuff is out to recycling.

* Fully 3/4 of the filing cabinet contents have been reviewed and are headed to shredding, the other 1/4 sits awaiting judgement once my brain checks back in.

* And the CLOSET. Ohh the closet. Having pulled out 30 pieces of clothing to donate, and having thrown out at least ten things that were only fit for rags, I’m about to aim for the stars and insist on purging 100 things. 200 if PiC lets me tackle his half of the clothing morass. It’s not that I buy a lot of clothing but rather, I keep things long past time they should be cycled out. I’ve found clothes in that closet featured in photos from ten to fifteen years ago. At some point, you just have to let go.  Mutant Supermodel knows my pain.

* SUCCESS: I’d been on the hunt for a tie rack to repurpose as a belt and scarf hanger. By pulling out about 7 cheapie purses and free conference bags that haven’t been in use for at least two years, I freed up enough room on the over the door purse hanger to cascade my scarves. Woot!

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