MiSC
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Post by MiSC on Sept 30, 2010 16:15:50 GMT -5
When you get rid of something in some way, how do you deal with the regret that follows?
Last year, when the people were here, I dumped innumerable things, but the 2 that stand out in my mind are the perfectly good portable dishwasher and my grandma's couch. The dishwasher I'm fine with. I think I just remember it because it was perfectly good. But my grandma's couch is haunting me. At least part of that is due to the fact that I saw it being dumped on the junk truck. I'd managed to avoid looking at all the hundreds of boxes of other stuff, but I saw that out of the corner of my eye, and every time I think about getting rid of something, that memory comes back to me.
I'm not going to say that it paralyzes me, but it still hurts like hell. I actually LOVED that couch. It was just beautiful. But it needed to be pretty much taken apart and rebuilt, and I just don't have money for that. I doubt I ever will. We have a big leather sofa in the living room, and it suits our needs better than her beautiful old thing. I had to make the decision, and fast. I decided to let it go.
But I still see it sitting on top of all the junk boxes on that truck. That was a year and a half ago.
So how do you deal with it?
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Post by blossoming on Sept 30, 2010 16:22:06 GMT -5
it sounds like letting it go was a good idea. sometimes i will compare my emotions to sort of ramp them down when needed or look at them more objectively. like, when you love your couch, how does that stand next to the love you feel for your kids, or your grandmother herself? if there is a difference, and you feel stronger toward the humans, can you focus on that and then sort of slowly expand the difference between the two types of love, til one of them becomes think of fondly and one is still a true love?
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Post by Meme on Sept 30, 2010 16:26:12 GMT -5
I grieve too-- not quite the same as a human or pet but still a grief-- strangely it is a couch for me too as it was our love seat that David laid on when he was so sick before his cancer diagnosis and then I slept on it so I could be with him in the pallitive room I made for him-- I could not sleep on his bed as he was too sick but I kept the couch right beside him--- I grieve that love seat but it was too much to keep it and redo- I just let the grief come and go as I know I have the memory of those times I write the memory down like I did here- I know I did the right thing in letting it go and I have the memory That is about all I do.......... gentle hugs as I do understand-----sadly life is letting go even though it does hurt for a long time== you and me may have these grief memories forever - some things we don't get over but we can go on.......hugs from Meme
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Post by def6 on Sept 30, 2010 17:26:58 GMT -5
You just keep in mind the big picture of a clean organized house . You may have tossed something that was still good and that you thought was usefull- but keeping things that you don't need puts you on a road of keeping a lot of things you don't need and even drives some to keep really useless items like old and used makeup remover pads because they posess a memory or have skin cells on them. It's really a slippery slope.
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MiSC
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Post by MiSC on Sept 30, 2010 18:31:59 GMT -5
but keeping things that you don't need puts you on a road of keeping a lot of things you don't need and even drives some to keep really useless items like old and used makeup remover pads because they posess a memory or have skin cells on them. It's really a slippery slope. That one I know by heart. It took me years to relieve myself of my little aunt's hairbrush. I kow that's odd phrasing, but taken literally, it's exactly right.
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Post by puppybox on Sept 30, 2010 18:51:34 GMT -5
i don't get this much anymore. but i try to think, when an image pops into my head, that its not that I'm regretting getting rid of it, or that I'm missing it, but that I'm enjoying the memory of it. "yeah, that was such a Grandma B couch". "what a great couch. what a great woman".
sort of when person dies you have to try to stop thinking about the last painful times, and thinking about the good times and goodness about them.
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Post by dtesposito on Sept 30, 2010 19:22:30 GMT -5
I think that getting to the age I'm at (53) has helped me a lot. Because I've seen SO many things over the years that I've been attached to, I know without a doubt that there is no way I can keep all of them. I'm not young enough to still imagine that magical future that will suddenly appear when I'm going to make a million dollars and buy the house large enough for everything. And now that I'm changing my mindset, I'm even realizing that that huge house full of thousands of "things" would not be what I truly wanted.
That's why I said in your recent post about the ornament you wanted that it will be one of MANY must have ornaments you'll see in your life. Yes, it would be nice to be a billionaire so you could buy anything you will ever want, but the vast majority of us don't have that. My age gives me the advantage of seeing that in perspective.
I look at a thing and say yes, that was great, it has good memories, but so do all these other things, and there just isn't room for all of them. So I'm trying to keep what will fit comfortably in the apartment I now have, which means some of the things I'm attached to just can't stay here.
I think that Puppybox is right to say you can work on changing the focus of the item in your mind. Not that the couch is gone, but that you remember that couch and that aunt and you're so glad you have those memories.
Diane
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Post by Meme on Sept 30, 2010 19:23:12 GMT -5
I think there is nothing wroong in having grief about things we let go---------the point is that we let go and are admitting that it hurt and sometimes still does hurt---there are things I have let go that caused no grief and things that I grieved as I let go and then there are things I grieve because of special moments from the past--- grief is one of those things that has no time limit and needs not to be justified and should in no way cause us to keep something else - grief is ok-- don't feel guilt or shame- just allow it to be and most grief with time mellows out even if it does not completely heal--often when we can admit the grief to ourselves we can then learn to find steps that help us heal- hugs from Meme
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Post by glowworm on Sept 30, 2010 20:44:02 GMT -5
I think I understand. There are certain items in the house that I know I need to let go of, but if I actually look at them, I can't do it. Whether it's because of memories or because the things might still be useful, I just have a hard time. Sometimes I put stuff in a smaller bag and seal it before I put it in the trash or Goodwill pile, just so I don't have to look at them there. There have even been times when I've considered asking someone else to come dispose of certain things so that I do not have to see them in the trash.
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MiSC
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Post by MiSC on Sept 30, 2010 21:35:31 GMT -5
I think I understand. There are certain items in the house that I know I need to let go of, but if I actually look at them, I can't do it. Whether it's because of memories or because the things might still be useful, I just have a hard time. Sometimes I put stuff in a smaller bag and seal it before I put it in the trash or Goodwill pile, just so I don't have to look at them there. There have even been times when I've considered asking someone else to come dispose of certain things so that I do not have to see them in the trash. That's huge with me. And while I usually have a memory like a steel sieve, I have an almost photographic memory when it comes to those things. I barely remember the couch in Grandma's house, but I can see it as plain as day on the back of that truck. I remember having a little wooden box she gave me -- a little white box that kept a little stack of memo paper. The paper fit the box, and the box fit the paper. But when the paper ran out, I couldn't get rid of the box. My grandma was not a wealthy woman by any standards whatsoever. What she had was provided to her by my mother. Grandma owned almost nothing. Just the few knick-knacks in her house. Mom had bought the house for her, so when Grandma passed, the house went back to Mom. Grandma only had the knick-knacks and furniture in her house. When Grandma hit about 70, she decided she was old. For the next 16 and a half years, she put little white pieces of tape on the bottom or back of everything she owned, and wrote the name of the person she wanted it to go to after she was gone. I know it sounds morbid, but it got to be a running gag after about the 3rd year. We teased her about it mercilessly, and she laughed right along with us -- then took another little piece of tape and stuck it on something else. My name was on the bottom of that little wooden box. It took everything I had in me to dispose of that box. It was just a tiny little wooden box that had nothing in it. But she'd written my name on it. She was thinking about me when she handled that box. But I did finally let it go. Not a week ago I was looking at a funny picture of myself from a few years back, and what was on the mantle behind me? The little white box. I'm not going to say I was unnerved or frozen or anything, because that would be an exxageration. But I've had it in my head ever since. I'm fighting with myself. One part of me is whining that I threw it away and will never get it back, and the other part of me is screaming at the first part to just get the hell over it and move on with life. It's a constant battle between those two halves of me, and far too often it's the whiner that wins. The yeller just fumes and refuses to budge. SHE'S the one who digs in and won't do jack around the house. She's very resentful. This is weird, I know, but often I think in analogies, and right now the analogy I'm working with is about two parts of me representing two entirely different ways of thinking. I clarify this because I've always been up front about my mental health issues, and I don't want anyone to think I'm literally talking about two different personalities. So anaolgies r' us.
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Post by glowworm on Sept 30, 2010 22:13:43 GMT -5
For the most part I don't really regret getting rid of things after they're gone. There is one - and only one - exception to this. I accidentally donated the owner's manual for my car. It was in the trunk with a bunch of stuff that I was donating. It's gone now. I have no idea how long it's been gone but I need it. *sigh* I don't think that really counts, though, because I didn't intentionally get rid of it.
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hopehope
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Post by hopehope on Oct 1, 2010 1:25:01 GMT -5
Not really able to write here, today.
The wishbone chair. The hand loomed ethnic carpet.
Been returning to me lately. Lot of stuff.
Will try to write more when equipment is more favorable.
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Post by shopgirl on Oct 1, 2010 1:40:55 GMT -5
Miss Glow-Worm, you can download your car's owners manual and have it as a PDF file to read right on your computer when you need it.
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Post by messymimi on Oct 1, 2010 7:23:23 GMT -5
Dear MiSC,
If you think it would help, go sit in a dim, quiet room or place. Close your eyes and take several deep, relaxing breaths. Then think about your grandmother -- relive a time when you were with her. See her, smell her, feels her hug you. Ask her to sit and talk a while. Explain to her how you think, how your house is, how you love her but have to let her things go so you can get control of your house. Let it all pour out, and imagine her listening.
Then imagine what she would say back. Remember that she loved you, and still does. She wants what is best for you. She is in a place now that puts no emphasis on material items. She knows that it is only the love the matters, only the love that travels over with you.
She will probably tell you that you need to do what is best for you, because she wants you to be happy and loved.
Try it, if you want, and see if it helps. It's like getting her permission in a way, something I know she would grant you if she could talk to you now.
messymimi
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Post by midlife on Oct 1, 2010 9:12:26 GMT -5
I know what you mean. I feel conflicted about the past, in general. Not just with possessions and memorabilia from the past, but even ideas from the past. I'm a writer (sometimes), and I'm always drawn to writing about the past, trying to recapture lost times and places and lost ways of thinking. Part of me says that that is beautiful and necessary, but then part of me says, "What about the future?" Is focusing on the past escapism? Avoidance? Is it grief and regret?
When I'm clearing stuff out of my house, I try to tell myself that I'm making room for new experiences and new memories... but part of me feels like I don't really *want* new experiences. New experiences are scary and unpredictable! I just want to sit here and reminisce with the safe old ones.
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