Ptsd

You never know how an event affected you until you’re reminded of it. In my case, the events I relive aren’t traumatic per say, they just deeply affected me. When I’m in an episode, i physically see the events happening and feel the way I felt back then. After my episodes I feel exhausted, my body hurts, and I quite honestly feel high. I never had a history of mental health issues until my mother almost died. I’ve learned that with ptsd you just have to let it run its course. Only time will heal those wounds and you can try to avoid situations all you want but at the end of the day, those flashbacks will happen. There’s no escaping it.

Material Girl

Growing up I was always surrounded by STUFF: books, clothes, toys, you name it. My toy of choice was a stuffed animal. Any guessers as to how many I have? Over 300. I was OBSESSED. My grandma is a hoarder so I always thought it was normal to have a lot of things. My dad was either buying drugs or hot wheels that he’d later sell FOR drugs. I rarely had friends over at my house because of my dad being a clinical psychopath but when I did go over to another friends’ house I noticed that their house was different than mine. A lot of my friends were taught to be self- sufficient. They knew how to do laundry and fold it, cook a meal, vacuum, etc. Everything was always done for me. My grandma would do my laundry, my mom would pick up after me and my dad would do the cleaning because that was his business. The only time I’d do the dishes was when I was with my grandparents and that was a few times a year. I will never forget when I was in middle school and we had a cooking class and no one would let me do anything because I didn’t know how. They wouldn’t even let me do the dishes because I didn’t know the difference between detergent and sanitizer. No wonder I was called a spoiled brat. I’m now 23 years old and I’m realizing that I need to make a lifestyle change. I have way too much STUFF and truly believe that I could get by with being a minimalist. That word honestly scares me. I have ZERO attachment to any of my stuff but I grew up with having a mess around me. I’m very attached to the mess and it’s toxic. When I see my house clutter free, it almost makes me feel lonely, if that makes sense. When I see the clutter around me, it feels like a home that is lived in. It’s comfortable to me. Right now there's laundry in the dryer, dirty dishes in the sink and the dishwasher, boxes of stuff everywhere, must in the basement, and trash overflowing. I'm to the point where I want to throw everything out and start over. 

*Disclaimer: I’m not a hoarder, there are no animals in the house and it's not inhabitable.