A Life in Boxes

One day I was going through my storage unit, I was cleaning and organizing. I realized that my life is in boxes. As I went through each and every box; each box contained memories. I couldn’t help but remember a time in late 2013 when my ex-husband broke into my storage unit and helped himself to my stuff.

His new wife had gotten all of my purses, he took a computer that belonged to my dad and I (my dad loaned it to him to use but actually gave to me), Christmas ornaments that my son had made from preschool through the elementary school, and so much more. Keep in mind my son is not his biological son, so he shouldn’t have even touched it.

I went on the think about how much certain items meant to me because they are a memory. A memory of a certain time, a certain point in my life. It’s not an item, it’s a memory. My ex-husband stole my memories away from me, my family, and most importantly from my son.

My life right now is in boxes in a storage unit because I am living with family. When we leave a violent relationship, we always come home to family. Family supports us while we rebuild our life. As I go through my boxes I decided to never let another person into my life.

Now, I thought about this and how I might be closing myself to the very slim possibility of being loved. I’m not. I will never allow another person to move into my home, to build a life in my home, etc. My personal belongings, my memories, are far too valuable. I’ll have my place, and he’ll have his.

I saw old memories of people I do not wish to remember. Memories I had to put into the trash, or send it for donation. I saw two (2) end tables that I had back when I was married. As I stared at those end tables I immediately thought that they are going straight to donation. I am continuing to get rid of items that remind me of a life that was poisoned by others. I do not want those memories from horrible times in my life.

I also trashed a black cap and gown that I wore when I graduated from a different community college back in 2007. A horrible time in my life. I even threw both of my Associates Degrees in a box that is in my storage unit. They are the worst reminders I will unfortunately have for the rest of my life.

Every single year as I heal, I notice that’s when I do so much spring cleaning. I get rid of items, a lot of items. Last year I donated the couch I use to have. A couch I bought when I was married and trying to make my apartment (which became “our” apartment) a home. Too many bad memories attached to it. It had to go.

Over the years of spring cleaning I donated a bunch of my old clothes, my son’s clothes (he didn’t fit into them anyways), I threw away all items from my wedding which included my wedding dress, all items that were from my bachelorette party, I even sold my wedding set (which I bought), an engagement ring (which I also bought) and an engagement ring that the ex-husband gave me back in 1999 (which I knew wasn’t for me and I never took the proposal seriously). I used the money from the jewelry to pay off bills he left me with.

So many boxes gone. A lot stuff has been donated, a lot of stuff has been thrown into the trash. A lot of weight lifted off from me. When I left, I put my life into boxes. Actually, it’s more accurate to say that I threw my life into boxes as quickly as possible. My entire life fit into several boxes. Furniture I didn’t want I donated. All my life, fit into a storage unit.

I know it won’t always be like this. I am working hard to get my own place again. I am moving forward and never looking back.

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