Looking at all those clothes in the basement was to much for me to deal with today. There is a long, long, story somewhere in there, but right now, I just have the time and patience for the cliff notes version.
When I moved 5 years ago from Texas, it was a very strange time of my life. I had been living with someone for 7 years who was an abusive alcoholic. The last year we were not really together- we lived in different cities- but our lives were still intertwined (houses, cars, financial stuff) I left on a 3 month journey back to my hometown- to "find" myself I guess. I wasn't working and didn't plan to for a while, so the timing was perfect . After 2 months of hanging out and just being me- I met my husband. Totally by chance, but I knew the minute I laid eyes on him that he was for me. (we had gone to High school together, but back then I thought he was such a preppy ass.) Ok, so maybe not the minute, but within the first 12 hours or so.
I had to go back home to Tx. and do a little soul searching- figure out what I wanted to do. I really didn't want to move to Michigan. I loved (and still do) Austin. I had lived there for almost my entire adult life. But he could not move, his father was dying. After being apart for less than a month I decided. I had a huge yard sale, packed a u haul, hooked my jeep to the back and drove to Michigan by myself. (driving those huge trucks is NOT as hard as it looks) I took everything that was mine in the house. I was afraid to leave anything behind. Like somehow, my ex would use it against me or something. I don't know. I can't explain it. I think I was insane at the time. I brought plastic plants here. I brought broken things. I brought EVERYTHING.
We rented for the first year and so a lot of my stuff stayed in the boxes and tubs. That should have been the clue to me that I really didn't need everything I had brought. We got married, and bought a house, and I got pregnant (surprise, surprise) in the first month. So a lot of things didn't get unpacked, just stored until "later." We had all the time in the world we thought. Then, when I was 4 months pregnant I had a severe car accident- lost control of my jeep on the ice on the freeway. Spun around, rolled down a hill. Totaled the jeep. I ended up the hospital- I was lucky, not badly hurt and the baby was fine. After more tests though, they found my cancer.
I have/had invasive cervical cancer. I had to wait for treatment- obviously. The part they needed to treat was being used. I was on bed rest and waited. I got as big as a house. Finally I had a c section and radical hysterectomy and my baby. He was/is perfect. I think I am still fine to this day (Dr visits every 6 months and blood work confirm this to be the case) But, until last spring, I honestly just didn't have it in me to worry about boxes of crap in my basement. I had other things to worry about. But, I also worry that if anything happens to me- someone will have to deal with this. I think it should be me.
So, I'm going to do a little at a time. This stuff represents my old life, my past. I think I can re work some of it into my new, improved life. But a lot just needs to be moved on. Maxwell is right about that. Holding on to items from your past just keeps you in the past and doesn't allow you to move forward. I think I am ready to move forward.