All of my stuff looks at me and attacks me, begging for my already short and frazzled attention to look at it, prying my mind away from whatever I'm doing. Even when I'm not home, I think about how my room and I could have fewer items.
When I close my eyes to sleep, I often get up because there's something I could move around or throw out.
I'm fortunate in that my room has a small walk-in closet that contains most of my things. More than half of the stuff in it is my mom's because there isn't enough room in the rest of the apartment for it. All I have in my room is my bed, two nightstands, a desk, a chair, a small lamp on both the nightstand and the desk (there is no overhead light and it can get really dark when it's not daytime or sunny), and a meditation pillow.
I haven't yet devolved into listing everything because I fear it would not be productive and only make my condition worse (I'm not suggesting it's always a negative to make a list but I feel it would be for me). I still feel like I will soon because it seems like the next (il?)logical step for me to take since what I'm doing now isn't sufficient.
Every day, sometimes over a dozen times, I'll walk into the closet to stare at the items in there, hoping to get more of it out of my life and I'll do one of three things; find a brief respite by getting rid of something, outwardly sigh that I haven't found something to get rid of, or just hyperventilate in privacy. I find myself sighing a lot. Heavily and world-wearily.
I haven't hit a point where I'm getting rid of practical or useful items because my more rational side is still enough in control. I hope to keep it that way.
There is nothing on my walls because I enjoy the off-white as it's calming (not as much as it used to be) and there is no symbolism I value or pop-culture consumer goods that interest me.
I finally hit a point where I thought that moving enough stuff out of the main room would help but it was brief. At any volume above a casual conversation, there is now an echo that continues long after the sound is gone when I continue to hear it in my head, pestering me once again. Even a loud sniffle makes an echo.
I understand that this is a manifestation of stress and anxiety but it doesn't make it easier knowing the root cause of my ills. I can't always fix my emotional issues but it's easy to look at something physical and project my negativity onto it.
I often fantasized about having only enough possessions that would fit into a small car and now that I do, I want the metaphorical car to be smaller but I'll likely work on fitting all of that into an even smaller car.
I don't really tend to compare myself to other minimalists because right now I feel that any level of stuff would upset me. Even an actual padded room might bother me more because there'd be too many ridges in the pads than actually being in one because of the connotations with being incarcerated or mentally unstable.
If you made it this far, thanks for reading.
Has anyone faced similar? If you haven't, I understand. I am not necessarily a unique case but certainly not the norm. While at least some negativity is expected, I'd prefer you keep it brief or inside your head.
Submitted October 19, 2017 at 03:20AM by NeuroticNihilist http://ift.tt/2xSatY3
