Monday, April 23, 2012
I'm scarred and emotionally banged up big time. Duh. I'm overusing idiotic words and phrases, as I try and come to terms with 25 years of trauma mama existence. That I'm not in pull-ups is vaguely reassuring.
And now my beloved books? I'm letting them go.
Digital media has transformed my life in huge ways, in my simplification, purification process I've slowly over the past several years donated hundreds of my books that I've accumulated. The books I know I'll never re-read, why hoard them? Others might wanna read them, and I have very, very little money invested in these treasures due to my propensity for yard sale shopping.
Sarah just let go of 20 boxes of books. It's freeing.
I relish empty spaces, the less clutter, the less stuff will be flung, tossed, knocked around, and broken when there are children wanting to illustrate their inner anger.
I even now am eliminating more'n a few houseplants, those who've been root bound too long, throwing 'em in the compost pile, washing out the pots, knowing I'll eventually re-use them.
I'm now living with kids who are overall a pretty peaceful bunch, at least in comparison to the years of broken windows and fist-fights.
And on a sad note, Chuck and Yolie's sweet dog, Ella, had to be put down last night. I think trauma survivors might be even more attached to their pets than neuro-typical owners in that the attachment is allowed to grow without any human expectations. I know this has been so for me.