Skeletons in the closet

I only deep-clean when I'm angry. And I was angry. Rather than be spending time cleaning out a closet and re-organizing purses, wallets, clothes, shoes and every accessory I own by color, style and length I would have preferred to be seeking revenge. That kind of angry.

It's a damn good thing I chose the closet.

Or so I thought.

Inside that closet I didn't just come face to face with bad fashion choices and ill-fated purchases; I ended up confronting my past. Notes from a marital counseling session found in an old purse. God. My wedding ring which no longer fits. Fitting. The Hawaiian carving from our Maui trip that was supposed to bring us good luck. Right. An entire box of momentos from that trip. We were already having trouble. 

I was only trying to clean out the closet.

See? THIS is why I don't clean.

Perched up on one of the shelves sat my old jewelry box which, in reality, became more of a keepsake box, having never been one to wear jewelry, even my wedding ring. I got it down, curious what memories might lie in it. Definitely handmade macaroni bracelets and necklaces from the boys, that much I could count on. 

I wasn't prepared for what I saw.

The bracelet my Dad gave me at my eighth grade graduation. The purple bow I wore at Maddie's service. The visitor badges I saved from Big T's plastic surgery. The cigar my Dad and I were supposed to smoke together on his 50th birthday and never got around to it.

And then that tongue depressor my sister made me that night in the ER. Dated and everything.

I started crying. Hard. There, on the floor in my closet I cried out loud, for no one to hear, mascara burning my eyes, letting go of I don't know what.

Everything.

Something.

Anything.

All of it.

So much has been welling up in me the last few weeks and I've complained and joked and rationalized and refused to stop and feel any of it. My past has been haunting me more than usual and in more ways than one and in my typical keep-my-head-up-high demeanor, I've carried on with a la-la-la-I-can't-hear-you-life! attitude.

It catches up with you.

It caught up with me.

People ask why I'm doing this 30 day challenge Operation Eleanor. Some have even suggested I seem so 'fearless' they are curious what my fears could possibly be. The truth is? I'm afraid of everything. Everything. And it's exhausting. It's exhausting to be constantly afraid and it's exhausting to not live the life you want to live because you're too afraid.

It's time for me to get rid of the skeletons in my closet. Or at least face them. And it's harder than I could have ever imagined.

Comments

[Will]

It gets easier.

I promise.

[Tricia (irishsamom)]

Wow, I could really relate to this post Megan and I'm glad you wrote it. It's honest and it's a path I've walked too. I had the same experience when we short sold our home and I had to pack it up and go through my life and all the things that were now gone, all at the same time. A physical loss, for sure, but much more of an emotional one at the same time. It did start the healing process for me though and I'm sure it will help you through all of this. I remember someone taking my kids for the day - I, like you, just soldiered on packing up the house on my own, distracting myself with all I had to do. It was only after the movers had emptied the house out that I sat alone, in the house that once held so many good memories and fell apart. Even though I didn't want to feel those things, I allowed myself to do it that day and it was a huge part of moving on, despite the pain of it. I hope that it brings you another level of peace and letting go so that you can live that life you dreamed of and live it again, only better this time. Hugs to you. Keep writing. xx

[Flora Valle]

<3 <3 <3

[Issa]

Sometimes the hardest thing there is, is letting yourself feel.

Hugs Megan.

[Tori]

Its so hard, I know, but it does get easier.

Honestly, you handled it In a super healthy fashion by even looking at this stuff.

Cry. Cry it all out. It'll help. :)

You are such a strong woman, friend & mother. This whole experience is only going to strengthen you more.

Hang in there!

[Lu]

Issa said it, sometimes feeling it is the hardest part. I am so sorry you are going through this. Huge hugs mama.

[Natalie]

For what it's worth, I am very happy I was lead to your site. Similar life experiences and all... Sending internet hugs and positive energy.

[mrschaos]

I get it. I do.

Love to you my dear. xoxo

[Habanerogal]

Feel it we are here every Step of the way

[Swanny23]

Laughter is the best medicine. Except when it becomes a knee-jerk reaction that keeps us from feelin the emotions we need. This is too often my own reaction to stress and fear. Give 'em a joke and move on, that's my motto. Trying to let ourselves *feel* more is sometimes a big, scary thing. You're not alone in this, and your post reminds me that neither am I. Thanks for sharing.

[califmom]

So proud of you and so thankful you initiated this kick in the ass for the rest of us.

[Donna in VA]

Gosh, my heart breaks for you. But darlin', know this. . . you are much stronger than you give yourself credit for.

[Lesley @Avalea]

Oh Megan babe. *sigh* It was good for you to look in that box. It was. Is. Because mixed in your tears were happy and thankful ones alongside the anger and hurt. All of it being released together is cleansing. I can only speak for myself, but a good cry usually leaves me feeling raw and unsure the next day. Sometimes with a dash of hopey changey feelings. Sometimes cranky as a mofo. Whichever way you're leaning, pace yourself and be kind to you. This is a process, afterall. One that you are conquering and I am so very proud to be on a parallel walk with you.

I'm still running. I know it will catch me. Maybe during this process. Maybe when I least expect it. But I know it will. I'm glad you wrote this because I know I will revisit this post.

[Avitable]

That strength of yours comes through in every word. Letting go is so fucking hard, but once it happens, it's amazing.

xo

[Chibi Jeebs]

They say the hardest - yet most rewarding - thing is to allow yourself to FEEL your feelings. Scary as hell, though. And why does everything that is rewarding always hard to do?

Sending you much love.
xoxo