Working from Home


After three weeks of working from home, I have decided to break my silence and focus on the things I always say I need more time for.  Cleaning, reading, writing, blogging.  I have gone back and forth and asked myself if this is even worthwhile.  I have attempted to blog for years and abandon the idea each and every time.  Why?

I pride myself in being authentic, but yet I don't want to share my thoughts.  Is it that I am not interesting enough?  This girl has lived a pretty amazing life, and now I have the time to reflect and write and share my experiences so why not be proactive?!

While in isolation, I have spent time organizing myself.  Since I am working from home, I try to focus on a project.  I have tackled the task of getting rid of things that don't serve me.  Although, that project is still a working progress, I am enjoying going through my belongings and discarding materials that no longer have a purpose in my life.  It's an emotional release.  I hadn't realized how the items I have collected over the years connected me to ghosts that I don't want haunting me any longer.  It's the final goodbye to a life I dreamed that vanished into thin air.

I have found clarity in cleaning.  I can breathe knowing that those possessions will no longer be a source of emotional distress.  Items I stuffed in the back of a closet hoping to never see again.  Items I should have disposed of a long time ago, but decided to shove down in the depths of my closet to deal with later.  A reflection of not wanting to deal with the reality of heartache.  I wasn't taught that skill set.  My parents didn't allow for crying or sulking.  "No one died, save your tears for death."  So, I learned to ignore my feelings and cope in different ways.

I have held onto these things as souvenirs that would save me from the next disaster of a decision I could make.  As though I need reminders because the battle scars are not enough.  As though the drowning memories that make me sob from time to time are not enough for my aching heart to handle.  I have to have material possessions to punish myself in remembering the tragedy that was my life for several years.

Senseless.  It's all senseless and a waste of life.  I don't need reminders.  I don't need to clutter my life with ghosts and junk that serves no purpose other than self-inflicting pain.  I need to continue to untangle myself from the past.  Live the life I desire and know I deserve.

The quarantine period has been of use to me.  It has slowed me down and I have been able to catch my breath.  I can process my feelings and work on my mental health.  Some of my goals may have been put on pause, but it doesn't mean I can't make new goals for the present and for the future when the stay at home order is lifted.