The Emotional Flood

I had no idea the level of emotional and physical stress the flooded basement would put on all of us.


The hardest part for me has been that I did not have the physical or emotional energy to deal with this level of additional stress. I was so worn down after the rocephin, I desperately needed some space. On top of the commotion, disruption, and questions of how much work we will need to do on our house, we have had to face the emotional side of losing and throwing away our 'stuff'.


I admit it, I'm a sentimental pack rat. A really bad one. But right now, bringing up the last 35 years of my life and throwing stuff away wasn't quite what I needed. I am not ready or in a good place to do it.


It is very difficult to explain the 'level of tired' I'm feeling after this past year. Not necessarily in a sad way, just in a "Whew, that was one very exhausting journey and I need a break" kind of way. I'm trying to roll with the punches that life gives us, but I haven't been doing very well with that!

One afternoon, I went out in the garage with Mom. I sat on a stool while she showed me what we had lost. We pitched all of our cassette tapes. Hundreds of them. Literally. I also pitched almost all of my mix tapes. That was very difficult for me, as they are filled with beautiful memories. In a different setting and a different time, this would have felt easy and good to do. Even as I type this I'm embarrassed that, in the grand scheme of things, I feel sad about losing cassette tapes!


Mom lost a lot of her things from her days as a professor. She wasn't quite ready to let go of these things yet, but she didn't have a choice either.


When I came inside, I collapsed into bed from the physical and emotional exhaustion of it all.




I know it is just stuff. I know we are never going to listen to cassette tapes again!  I have enough humor and perspective about the situation to realize that we really did not lose that much, we are very fortunate, we don't need this stuff, what we did lose is not a big deal, and that we really did need to clean out this crap anyways.  


But right now, it is like looking at my whole life spread out in front of me in a quite unpleasant and chaotic way. It is about remembering when life was good. As my very wise best friend Jeannine says, I look at the past and wonder if that was the best life will ever be because things have been so hard the last 12 years. I keep my hope that things are going to improve, that life is going to be better, but it is hard to face the past right now. It's not that I don't do my best to live the best life I can right NOW, but I long for better days.

Speaking of Jeannine, here is a photo of a caricature of the two of us at our prom in 1994, during those better days of which I speak. This too, was soaked in the flood. I decided to take a photo journal of things we had lost. This way, I have the memories without taking up the space in the house.


In so many ways I want to let go of the past and pitch stuff. So there is a mixed blessing in all of this. It just kind of sucks right now!


For a very long time, I have felt weighed down by the past and all of the stuff that has accumulated over the years. Even though most of the 'stuff' is out of sight, I feel as if it is taking away precious energy. I have very much wanted to let go, move on, and create new memories. I struggle to find good memories in the past 12 years compared to the fun and joy before I got sick. So it keeps me holding on to the past.


Cleaning and staying organized are continuously put on the back burner because I just don't have the physical or emotional energy for it. We seem to move from one health crisis to another. In between, we find it difficult to tackle another big project. If the energy was present, a lot of 'stuff' would be very easy to throw away. Much of it was just shoved in a basket or a Rubbermaid container 'to do later' when I was 'feeling better'. It is so incredibly frustrating to have a body that doesn't cooperate with what I know I need to do for my emotional well-being.


I desperately want to be able to separate the chaff from the grain. I want to be able to find the things I'm looking for when I want them. I want the most precious things preserved, and the rest discarded. I've read enough about organizing to know that you're supposed to spend 10 minutes a day, or work on this space, or tackle this first, but when you have NO physical stamina or energy and reading through papers is a challenge, these aren't realistic ways to approach organizing, which is part of what makes this process so frustrating. And when I do have moments of precious energy, I don't want to use it to sort through a bunch of crap. 


I want to be all Zen about this, live in the present, and not hold onto the past. But for me, it's a tough balancing act. How do we preserve memories of the past, especially of those really good years without holding ourselves back? Do we keep them only as memories, and not as 'things'? I know, especially amongst some of my other chronically ill friends, I am not alone in this struggle. Our lives look nothing like we had hoped they might, and even with great efforts at acceptance, we miss being healthy and the things we were able to do.  


My friend, Rachel, and I have discussed this topic a great deal. As she says: How do we find the balance between being realistic and staying hopeful? How do we make sure we are not living in denial about what we might still use? This is what I faced when parting with my bike and my saxophone. It is what I face now with my Shel Silverstein books or other items I thought I might save for my own children. How do we balance the sentimental and the practical?


This isn't to say that I haven't kept plenty of 'stuff' from the past twelve years, particularly in the form of letters, cards and photos--the ones that have lifted me up and sustained me over the years.


I wanted to start 35 out lighter and with a different mindset, so I guess this was one big kick in the pants to do so! The timing of this flood was definitely significant, but I did tell God that I wasn't amused! I will always have the memories, even when the 'stuff' is gone. Eventually it won't hurt so much. Eventually the flood of 2010 will be just a blip on the radar.


If anyone has tips on how to let go of 'stuff', how to decide what to keep and what to toss, and how to find ways to keep the sentimental stuff that you do keep organized, I welcome them.


The journey to clean out our basement and face the past 35 years has only begun! I don't look forward to using my energy to sort through a bunch of 'stuff', but I have known for a very long time that doing this and throwing much of it away is crucial for me to move forward, whatever life may bring. I want to live more fully in the present, and not be weighed down by the past. I want to use my precious energy for the things that matter most to me in this life. Oh, but first to sort through all of that STUFF!




Blessings from a sentimental pack rat,




Emily


Note: I have been working on this post for several days now and am feeling much calmer. We are still very overwhelmed by the potential work on the house to be done, and I am still overwhelmed about HOW I am going to tackle my 'stuff' so that I can move forward, but things are settling down a bit!


Photos: Hundreds of cassette tapes from my growing up; My beloved mix tapes; Caricature of me and Jeannine at prom.