Working to de-hoard

[Before you can make things better, you have to stop making them worse...]

I finally feel well enough to start working through the mess he left me.  When he moved in after the wedding, lots of my stuff was put in storage.  After the separation, it was returned in boxes that I've been ignoring.  So I've been working through it.  It felt really good taking a car load of old books and clothes to goodwill, like a weight lifted off my back.  Found my taxes through the years, how long do I have to keep those?  Anyway, I now know where they are.  I found the ancestry book my grandfather did, all about where my ancesters on his side came from and it goes way back, glad to know where that is again.  My trash dumpster is just filled with a bunch of crud, so good to get that out of the house.

I found the journal I kept after the break up with the husband that I had a child with.  It was gut wrenching re-reading the crap he put me and my daughter through when she was only a year and a half old.  Such a freaking jerk.  I remember how hard that time was with him.  My daughter is now almost 16 and life is so much more peaceful.  He lives states away so he is no longer a factor in her life.  I feel bad for choosing such an awful dad for her.  Blech.

I found an email from another partner, the classic NPD.  Just reading made me feel sick.  He was the most toxic human being I've ever encountered.  The letter was him going on that I better be happy having a home and all these wonderful material items and if I ever brought conflict into the relationship, we were through.  That time was such a flipping nightmare.  So glad to be outta that one.

I learned from that experience that having nice things and financial security is no fair exchange for your sanity.  Rather live in a cardboard box.  Shudder.

It feels good to get organized.  Somethings are not so sad, stuff of my daughters from when she was little.

Stuff I saved from college.  A paper I did in college where I intereviewed by grandmothers about their early lives, and my mom.  That's neat to have.  The school paper with my picture of when I became part of student gov't.  Good times.  A really nice clock from a place I worked with thank you enscribed on it.  The paperwork from closings of all the houses I've lived in.  Old birthday cards.  I don't know why I keep all this stuff but I'm not throwing it out.    Feeling all sappy.  Remembering what a tiger protector I was over my daughter in regard to her horrible dad.  It's good to remember that when she is being a sassy teenager.  She is in honor society, she got straight A's and has some good, stable moral friends.  I didn't do so bad with her.  I found a gift card I'd gotten this past christams for eating out.  Had to use it, since I'm dehoarding, took daughter out to dinner. 

I am no longer eligible for the Hoarders show, feels good!

[Rose Tiger]

I finally feel well enough to start working through the mess he left me.  When he moved in after the wedding, lots of my stuff was put in storage.  After the separation, it was returned in boxes that I've been ignoring.  So I've been working through it.  It felt really good taking a car load of old books and clothes to goodwill, like a weight lifted off my back.  Found my taxes through the years, how long do I have to keep those?  Anyway, I now know where they are.  I found the ancestry book my grandfather did, all about where my ancesters on his side came from and it goes way back, glad to know where that is again.  My trash dumpster is just filled with a bunch of crud, so good to get that out of the house.

I found the journal I kept after the break up with the husband that I had a child with.  It was gut wrenching re-reading the crap he put me and my daughter through when she was only a year and a half old.  Such a freaking jerk.  I remember how hard that time was with him.  My daughter is now almost 16 and life is so much more peaceful.  He lives states away so he is no longer a factor in her life.  I feel bad for choosing such an awful dad for her.  Blech.

I found an email from another partner, the classic NPD.  Just reading made me feel sick.  He was the most toxic human being I've ever encountered.  The letter was him going on that I better be happy having a home and all these wonderful material items and if I ever brought conflict into the relationship, we were through.  That time was such a flipping nightmare.  So glad to be outta that one.

I learned from that experience that having nice things and financial security is no fair exchange for your sanity.  Rather live in a cardboard box.  Shudder.

It feels good to get organized.  Somethings are not so sad, stuff of my daughters from when she was little.

Stuff I saved from college.  A paper I did in college where I intereviewed by grandmothers about their early lives, and my mom.  That's neat to have.  The school paper with my picture of when I became part of student gov't.  Good times.  A really nice clock from a place I worked with thank you enscribed on it.  The paperwork from closings of all the houses I've lived in.  Old birthday cards.  I don't know why I keep all this stuff but I'm not throwing it out.    Feeling all sappy.  Remembering what a tiger protector I was over my daughter in regard to her horrible dad.  It's good to remember that when she is being a sassy teenager.  She is in honor society, she got straight A's and has some good, stable moral friends.  I didn't do so bad with her.  I found a gift card I'd gotten this past christams for eating out.  Had to use it, since I'm dehoarding, took daughter out to dinner. 

I am no longer eligible for the Hoarders show, feels good!

[marbleloser]

There's nothing wrong with keeping a few "things from the past"(notice I didn't say old things  ). They meant something to you then,and they do now as well. Your exN sounds like a doozy,just from what you wrote.

It sounds like you've done a great job with your D.You should be proud!

It's nice to 'de-clutter" a bit from time to time.Sometimes you find things you've kept that you no longer have a need for or want around as well.(Hey,that works for people too! )

" I learned from that experience that having nice things and financial security is no fair exchange for your sanity.  Rather live in a cardboard box."

I like this especially.You've found that money doesn't bring happiness.Not bad to have,but it will never replace peace.

[Rose Tiger]

Thanks, ML.  Maybe part of personal inventory can be literal. Ha ha.  I've thrown out everything that ex left here, so good to get rid of all those reminders, like his plant, his garage crap, I put the two seater bike on the corner with a free sign and it was gone in 10 minutes.  Yay!  And isn't it funny when your kiddo is doing good, it's a reflection on you but when they are doing bad, it's those kids they hang out with... . it's a miracle she is doing well after some doozy stepfathers.

Does anyone know a good way to sell wedding rings? 

[Rose Tiger]

I can do a little personal/personal inventory.  Daughter's dad, I don't know if he was PD, unless there is an imbecile personality disorder.  He would get on me saying, that's not how my mother did things, and remarks like that.  I would ask him to mow the lawn and he would balk saying, I'm not doing it alone, you better help me (by emptying the hopper for him).  He would get a job and then decide he didn't like it and quit.  After the split, he would say things like, I went on a ski trip so I don't have child support money.  He would bring daughter home at eleven at night when she had school the next day.  At mediation, he told the mediator, her mother has money so I shouldn't have to pay child support (I walked out at that point).  At the divorce decree, he said, your honor, there is something you should know.  The judge said, yes?  He said, you need to know that she is a smoker.  I almost burst out laughing while the judge said, sir,  smoking is not illegal.  My side, I was a control freak.  I was like Monica on the show Friends when she walks in and says, ok the couch is wrong, someone moved the coffee table and don't even get me started on the ottoman.  I was that bad, everything had to be in it's place or I was freaking out.  Not a lot of fun to live with.  Everything has to be perfect or the world will end or something.

The N made me want to slash my wrists on a constant basis.  He wasn't physically abusive, he was very smart, colonel in the air force, brilliant and he used it to 'talk to me'.  He could push buttons with such precision and venom that seriously, I would be thinking, where are razor blades, I need to end it, I am awful awful horrible.  He was perfect and I was the complete sobbing mess.  He went on TDY and I told my daughter, we need to pack and be out of here in two days.  And we did.  Tried marriage counseling where it came out that his older brother raped him for a year when he was eight.  Sigh.  When he was a toddler, his older brothers shut him in a closet and threw spiders on him.  The counselor told me that he had no self, it was like looking a patient that bled out and was empty.  Nothing for her to work with, nothing but an empty shell.  I talked about my childhood with her and she said my family on an abusive scale of 1 to 10, we were a nine.  I couldn't connect to that emotionally though, it was like oh well, what's for dinner.

Then I met current ex.  I knew I had dysfunctional family issues but thought I was good to go.  Not so.  With previous boyfriends, I liked them.  With this ex, I adored him.  I have never been that happy in my whole life.  I felt so good with him.  So it was extra devastating when he turned on me.  But I never felt like slashing my wrists.  I felt like doing everything I could to make it work.  Which meant a lot of trying to make him change (back to how he was in the beginning).  Couldn't work because who he was now is who he is.  :'(  Now I can feel, now I can tie into the pain of childhood.  Now I will cry at hallmark commercials.  All those hidden buried feelings have surfaced and working through 50 years of pain, man, that is a alot of work.  The desire to find a partner, which was huge for so long is now gone.  It's more of a desire to find a friend, not someone to save me.

[marbleloser]

Your D's dad sounds like my stbxw,even down to the smoking.She told my atty in deposition,"He drinks beer!" Atty said,":)o you think he has a problem with alcohol?" "Um,no,he doesn't have a problem,but he drinks!" She shrugged her shoulders.

Your last one sounds like exBPDgf.

Looking at your post in order,can you see how you(and I) were at a moment in our lives where we were completely open to a BPD relationship?If you were like me,you had shut off all emotion during the other relationships.Those with BPD opened us up to exploring them and feeling them.It's nice to be able to do that.It hurts a great deal to understand the relationship,but we also got to "see what we were missing",take a good look at our childhood and the part it may have played, and learn to embrace our emotions.

[Rose Tiger]

Oh no, sorry to hear you had the same sort of folks in your life.  Your honor, he left his dirty socks on the floor, I want justice. 

I suppose in a way BPDex did help me to open up with feelings, being so encouraging, accepting, and loving in the beginning.  Like the parent I never had but should of had.  Very soothing.  The counselor I met during the N experience told me that I needed to reconnect to my feelings and grieve.  By grieve she meant sobbing so hard that drool is dripping out of your mouth, deep wrenching cry sessions.  I remember praying and praying, please God let me reconnect to my feelings.  She was such a cool counselor, in trouble with the military because a female cadet went to her after being raped, the military authorities told her to hand over her files or face prison time.  She refused.  I got kind of stalled because I could not connect to my feelings, it just wasn't happening.  She did meet the BPDex as we started dating.  She said you both have similiar wounds and can help each other to heal.  I wasn't expecting though for the relationship to go the way it did.

Uh oh, was BPDex an answer to prayer?  There's a mystery of the ages.  Too bad his experience with me couldn't help him in the way that my experience with him did help in my healing.

[marbleloser]

"Uh oh, was BPDex an answer to prayer?"

I believe in this.I also believe things happen at certain times for a reason.I have no doubt mine did.

[Rose Tiger]

 

[talithacumi]

I felt like getting rid of all the stuff I didn't need/want (or even remember I had !) was like a physical manifestation of my inner, psychological process, too! Felt GREAT!

As for the wedding ring ... . mine was gold with a couple of small diamonds, I sold it to a pawn shop, and used the money I made to self-soothe with something I KNEW would last forever ... . a tiny tattoo right behind my ear!