Catharticism

On occasion I feel an overwhelming urge to write, but am unable to focus on a specific topic.  Regardless, it is imperative that I heed that urge in order to free the thoughts free-floating through my head.

Sounds odd, perhaps; that’s how my brain works.  Writing has proven effective time after time in sorting out the issue du jour.  The thoughts line up and spew onto the page in some sort of order and things begin to make sense. When bouncing around in my head these same random thoughts only cause trouble.

There are so many things on my mind tonight; where to begin? And should I share my thoughts and concerns with you?  My concerns tonight are not of the negative or the positive variety, they are merely things that I think about periodically and sporadically, when the house is quiet and dark and I’m alone.  Its not a case of being alone too much or too much time on my hands; these are the most introspective moments of my life, and growth, if not already in evidence, always follows these moments.

My life is no longer my own; I feel “owned” by my employer and by those currently paying my compensatory wages.  My freedom to seek employment at a facility of my choice is no longer a freedom; it is the choice of my employer, until I am deemed completely rehabbed and employable once again.  Had I not been injured, I would have found employment elsewhere and relocated my household.  As it is now, I have no concept of how long it might take till I am ‘free’ to leave.  This is not necessarily a positive thing, in my opinion, but I have learned to let things work them selves out in their own time.  Reasons that I cannot see today may make themselves clear tomorrow.  However, my impatient nature is struggling mightily with this.

This morning I deposited a toddler at the sitter and this afternoon I picked up a toddler-become-a-boy.  Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that I suddenly noticed that he’s growing up and leaving toddler-hood behind.  But that can’t be!  It was only yesterday he morphed from infant to toddler.  And the day before that he was newborn.  What’s next? I imagine he’ll be graduating from high school tomorrow.  Humorous?  Yes.  Sad? Yes.  So many emotions course through a mother’s heart as they hurtle through their child’s life.  The days go by too slowly, but the years are racing by at the speed of sound. 

My confidence suffered a major assault in the past years and I allowed it to happen; I may even have made it possible by not listening to my heart at the first sign of trouble.  And when my identity was at its most fragile stage I added insult to injury by setting myself up for even more assaults on my integrity and capabilities.  Recently, the confidence that I formerly had in myself and my strengths and abilities has begun to return, and it is restoring me to a much stronger state than previously.  Adversity does truly strengthen us, but causes a fair bit of discomfort while doing so. 

Those are but a few examples of what topics my mind brings to my attention on any given day.  Having shared them with you, I can now put my finger on my thoughts; they are no longer free floating.

PURGING -- ROUND TWO

 Getting rid of as many clothes as I did a few days ago, you’d think that was the end of it.  But, oh no, I had a second go-round with the leftover clothes, and whittled away the pile by perhaps another third.  Things I’ve never worn, things that don’t fit properly, things that are uncomfortable, colors I can’t stand, and so on.  All gone.  Well, not quite gone; most are waiting for inclusion in a new rug while a few are waiting for a ride to the thrift store.

This weekend I tackled a long overdue project and that was to clean the cupboard under the bathroom sink.  It was quite cluttered and full, now its much emptier and well organized.  A few cosmetics went in the trash.  There is a maximum time that you should be keeping cosmetics before they need to be thrown away.  Since I haven’t purchased any in the past year, I’m guessing ALL of mine should have gone to the landfill.  I kept back the minimum that I need to keep until my great Arbonne shopping spree in May!

Going through boxes and bins in the basement has been on my list of projects since moving in.  This weekend I went through two boxes.  Granted, they were both extremely small boxes (think shoe box size), but everything has been allocated to a new home.  Jen’s stack of papers from school has been recycled, kept for a bit longer, or tossed completely.  I’ll revisit the “keepers” in a week or two, and I’m sure I’ll be able to get rid of even more.  Why did I do Jen’s and not Chris’s?  Very simply put, Jen’s papers were easily accessible, Chris’s weren’t. I’ll get to his when I open the right box downstairs.

Ugh, why are we so attached to our belongings?  Is it really necessary to keep so many things?  I'm sensing that I'm really on a mission here, to rid myself of anything that isn't necessary.  

Stay tuned .  . .

Isolated

Perhaps my sense of isolation today is of my own doing, but knowing that does nothing to ease the feeling. It simply adds guilt to isolation, not a great combination.

Normally I love being alone at home with Kevy, but today is not one of those days.

Acknowledging isolation, I came up with four possible reasons or causes that I would be feeling that way.

First, I'm broker than broke and that pretty much forces me to stay home. Just knowing that I can't afford to do anything makes it much worse. I'd be fine if I was choosing to stay home, but this is out of necessity.

Second, I really really really miss my adult children. It's not even possible to exaggerate that statement! Living in the same neighborhood as them, we could walk over or invite them over for dinner.

Third, when I was working I spent all day with people and was quite happy to spend time at home without others around. That was my time to "regroup" and prepare for the next set of days on. Being off work, I am lacking the company of co-workers; not necessarily missing it, but lacking the interaction with others.

Fourth, when the isolation hit me the hardest this afternoon, I simply wanted to get out of the house to go for a walk. But, Kevy had not napped and did not want to go outside. Being already tired and grumpy myself, I chose to not force the issue and we stayed in the house.

It goes without saying that single parents (or single grandparents) could potentially experience stronger feelings of isolation. Not having a partner, someone who is a support, someone who knows me, intensifies the feeling of being alone.

It's a rare day that I feel isolation as intensely today, so don't think this is my normal state; it's not.

Purging

No, not the "binge and purge" type of purging! I'm referring to purging as it pertains to belongings; clothing, books, etc.

Two and a half years ago, while preparing to move from city to country (I consider living in Steinbach living in the country. Long story.), I went through every item in my townhouse, one by one. I tossed dumpsters of stuff and drove to the donation door at the thrift shop at least a dozen times. We'd been living there for eleven years, so there was a lot of stuff to wade through.

It was a sense of relief each time I got rid of something. It could be anything, an old t-shirt, old letters, or anything. To part with old belongings, I was hanging onto the past and was unable to embrace the future.

Now, I can understand that I purged just prior to a move. After all, isn't that the best time to do it? So then why am I on a purging rampage the past few days? I'm parting with items that I so diligently packed up to move here. Mostly I'm posting them on Kijiji, but I haven't stopped there.

My closet got a good purge this afternoon while Kevy napped. What did I get rid of? Seven hoodies, my favorite article of clothing, are now awaiting a buyer on Kijiji. Six t-shirts and tank-tops are nicely folded and will be crocheted into rugs. A javex-ruined pair of pants will also become part of a rug, as will my beloved Adidas track pants. I thought my world would end when I put them in the back of my closet six months ago. But, when tearing through the closet today, I realized I had forgotten all about them!

Once the stained or torn items were weeded out, I went through the rest and tried on every single article of clothing. Every article. Shirts that were too short will always be too short regardless of my weight. Shirts and pants that fit but were a bit snug are being put away in a box for another six months. If I haven't lost enough weight to wear them comfortably by then, they will also become part of my rugs.

It's amazing what a sense of lightness and relief I feel when there is less "stuff" around me. Clutter in my space makes it difficult for me to think. Far from being cluttered, my home is still a lot fuller than after moving in.

I'll do a bit more tomorrow,