How Come You Taste So Good?
I’m sure the image of me sitting around with harsh black eyeliner lining my eyes inexpertly while listening to (insert something more emo than The Cure here. Help a stupid sister out.) and cutting my arm while hoping like hell it gives me attention (this is actually the mental picture I have associated with the diagnosis of “depression,” which is why I use the PPD initials instead when referring to my current issues. Makes me feel less like a dramatic teenager), it was just not the case today.
Rather than sit around wallowing in my grief, I was overtaken by the intense urge to purge.
To be fair, this is something I typically do every couple of months, but to completely illustrate how un-me I’ve been, I’m going to confess to you, Darling Internet, that it’s been over a year since my last purge (of my own stuff). I hope you understand, baby, I’ve just been unwell. No baby, it’s not you, it’s me. Really, it is.
Since I live with two people who are unable to part with so much as a four-year old Target receipt for a plastic garbage can that we no longer own, I am completely responsible for making certain we don’t save such stuff. Last year found me tossing rudely away The Daver’s collection of cassette tapes because we no longer own a tape player, and empty CD cases (why we lugged them from apartment to condo to house, I cannot be sure).
(I move it to the garage where it sits until I insist that we drop it off at the Salvation Army down the street. It does, I admit, sit there for many days erm, months. Ashley keeps threatening to leave a pee-stained mattress propped up against my garage to really give my home that Salvation Army Drop Center look. She’s a funny one, that Ashley.)
So today, I tasked myself unceremoniously with purging my closet. This is a more depressing task than one might think, as I am currently too large for my pre-pregnancy stuff and too small for my maternity tents clothes (thank you, Baby Jesus, thank you).
And without really delving into my cadre of un-fat clothes, I was able to get rid of three bags of clothes and another bag full of miscellaneous stuff that I have never found a use for but saved in case I suddenly needed about 500 mini packages of off brand tissues (um, I have no idea why people insist upon giving these to me. Do I constantly walk around with bats in the ole batcave? I am sure there are less oblique ways to inform me of this.) or the tags for clothes I’ve been wearing for months (which is pure laziness rather than deliberate ‘I might need this-ness’).
For some reason, getting rid of stuff gives me a high like no other (aside from Vicodin. Mmmmm Vicodin, how I love thee…let me count the ways….one, two, three…). I don’t pretend to understand why I feel so gooshy and elated when I’m getting rid of something and becoming more organized, but it never fails to bring me to near-orgasm.
I have a deep seated fear of becoming that person who lives so incredibly surrounded by crap that my kids are horrified and disgusted to come to my home, for fear of being attacked by a toppling box-o-junk and buried there for the next several years.
I think I might be severely twisted.
(The Internet is letting out a collective “You think?”)
Oh, the high I got just picturing the purging! I LOVE throwing shit out almost as much as I enjoy buying it in the first place! My in-laws are hoarders in the making and it is all I can do to turn my categorizing, junk tossing, labeling eye.
Oh no Sistah! I hear you!
Nothing makes me feel better than getting rid of crap!
Nothing, I say!
You SO need to come visit my house. If purging other people’s shit gets you to near orgasm, then coming to my place will give you so many multiples you’ll probably get knocked into a coma. Fo realz, yo. I am a horrible packrat and it drives Greg insane. I save everything.
I just packed two stuffed carloads to the local Goodwill station and made the hubs take two loads to the dump.
I’m the queen of purging. It soothes my soul.
That and there is less shit to dust.
well lucky you. I am glad it is easy for some people, but I am in no way one of those people. I don’t think I will EVER be. I TRY, but I get to sentimental about even really dumb stuff, that I know is clutter, but I still can’t or won’t do it. I really think I need to call in a professonal. yikes.
When I get in “that mood” to purge also. And honestly, I feel another purge coming on soon. But that may be related to our very rapidly nearing move. When I purge, I’m so proud of myself, but then, the shit comes back in another form. My children and the man are also hoarders, this may be why I can never get rid of the crap!
Purge on my queen… Get that stuff that is cluttering up your life OUT of there.
Sadly, we move so often that we get a chance to really purge every two years. But, like you, I get a high off of eliminating STUFF in the house.
Oh, I just went through and did all of that for a couple drawers. Now I need to move on to the kitchen.
Then I organized the desk, under the bathroom sink, and the bedroom closet. It feels soooo good.
Long live the purge! I glow for days after a good purge. My rule of thumb is “will my fat ass still fit in this?” or “would I really care if my kids destroyed this?” If the answer is no then out it goes. I do like to keep a few non-sentimental knick knacks around though just so that the kids have more targets to choose from.
Purging makes me anxious. What if I need that skirt that I haven’t worn in the 8 years since I bought it? What I need to produce the cards my parents recieved at their wedding 38 years ago?
And I am a bulk shopper so I always have lots of tissues, paper towels and cans of mushroom soup stored in the garage. I think psychologically I feel safe when I know I have enough crap around to survive the apocolypse.
I envy that! I am so filled with doubt about purging, plus I’m cheap don’t don’t want to feel like I’m throwing money away, that I have waaay too much stuff.
I love it when I get bloggy shout outs. You just made my day dude. And the matress is coming…along with a bunch of 1/2 empty paint cans…
I am so in need of a good weekend to just throw shit away. Sometimes I feel like my things are suffocating me.
What slays me every time is living with Mother who is a champion hoarder. As in save the box that it came in and the receipt and the bag and the old item that the new item was purchased to replace or update…it drives me nuts.
But I suffer from boxed up life syndrome. Or at least that is what I am calling it the boxes in my closet that represent the different lives I have lived. I just can’t seem to let go of 1994 or 1999.
Oh I can so relate. It feels sos good to prge & get rid of shit.
I am one of those who has a real hard time letting go of things, but I still get that intense pleasure when I finally do organize and purge. Weird.
Good for you for getting to it.
I am typically a pack rat, but I just read “It’s All Too Much” which is pretty much a homage to all things purging and since I don’t want to live in this hell hole another year and the realtors don’t really like to show clutter, I am on the purge train. I just filled five huge bags of crap from the boys room and the clothes, ye God, the clothes. Never having purged in this manner, I can totally see the high you get from it. But my legs hurt from all the work and I could really use a drink about now.
The Smiths
I feel a little less crazy knowing that I’m not the only one who starts getting rid of shit when I’m down and depressed. I just did the same thing last weekend, I gave away a HUGE bag of maternity clothes on freecycle, some girl really hit the jackpot on that one!
Oh my gosh, I love purging. I love it. I purge my house every few months. Thing is, I don’t have a lot of stuff, so it gets harder and harder to find things to throw away. I totally get a high off of doing this!
i come from a family of packrats…i have to be very careful of hoarding…i know of what you speak.
we are twins separated at birth!
just found your blog. LOVE it!