dammit. i'm just horrible at this. i used to write all the time. more so in pen and paper, but my pile of books is getting heavy. speaking of heavy, i'm starting to feel the weight of my decisions. i take full responsibility for all and any of my actions.. including the things i choose to carry. i didn't realize how much i'd been carrying around until my mother passed. and since then, i've taken on more. the history of both of us is stowed away in a storage locker half a world away that i can't afford to hang on to much longer.
i know it's just stuff. for the longest time despite our liking or not for one another at the time, mom was always cool about hanging on to my stuff. i made a habit of never keeping anything of monetary value to reduce the risk of anything getting pawned. once she had settled into the sickness the likelihood of her moving around wasn't so good. my past was safe for years, wrapped in plastic to hold off the smoke clouds, stashed in her walk-in closet.
emptying out her apartment was one of the hardest things i've ever had to do. i wasn't ready to let go yet, to her little hand-painted crafts, the dining room table, the dressers she scored somewhere from the seventies that currently hold my winter clothes. so i rented a locker and crammed it all in with my own. in a few months i'll have to go back there and decide what to do with everything.
it's a little overwhelming right now to think of but i have to start thinking. i kept all of the things from my youth that reminded me of better days. that cabinet my dad built me full of beanie toys is probably the least practical thing i've got stashed away, but reminds me of a time i didn't have to care so much about what the hell i'm doing with myself. they're the only things i kept in good condition, i'm considering giving them to some sort of cause like a charity auction or donating them to toys for tots.
just about everything else is a little more personal. photo albums, clothes i've had since i lived outside, the stereo i got my mother for christmas one year that just happened to be her favourite thing in the world [plus all the music my brother and i got her to go with it].. then there's my very own personal library. let's not forget the books, paperbacks i'd had stashed in various places all collected into a huge stand-up shelving unit.. way more than i thought. i might suck it up and make two cross-country trips just to bring back what i can as far as books go. oh yeah and that big black steel trunk. you know, the oldskool looking ones with the copper strapping, covered in various bumper stickers and things my mother wrote on top to remember. it houses artwork from school days of my brother and i, our baby clothes, my mother's rack of collectible spoons. unless i get a vehicle, that thing won't be going very far.
there's totes of memorobilia. not all of it is mine. i have things that were given to me by friends that i held onto dearly, old manual film cameras, jackets, hats, and of course a whole other seasonal set of camping gear. even the tent is full of memories of living outside in as many corners of the country i could have ever hitched to and through. my sky-blue mini dome palace in the trees. things like that i could sell and just get again later if i need them, in the long run it'd be cheaper than paying to store them for months on end.
then there's a bunch of stuff i collected in the few years i became domesticated, workout equipment, art and craft supplies including paints and canvasses, a million different kinds of beads, probably a hundred pounds in half-used sketchbooks and and pieces that somehow survived since highschool. i'm already trying to find homes for things i know i have in my inventory to make the process of purging easier.
i'm not yet sure what i'll do with a few of the criticals. if i try real hard i can probably cut back so that all of my keepers fit into the trunk. if i can find a place to safely store that away in the meantime, it will help put my mind at ease. until then i've got to remember to relax. worrying about what must happen in the future isn't doing me much good now, all i can do is try to plan for it and stay positive. i wish i could have the strength to just let it all go.. but there's some things like the letters my mother held onto, the journals i so carefully made sure never to lose, and the photos of lives long passed that i'd have a hard time forgiving myself for letting go of.
until then i have to figure out how to maintain here in a new place and hold the little life i'm building together. right now my expenses are pushing me beyond my means, there's no budget beyond food and shelter, no room for quality of life leisure spending, not even to save to go home. i'm living on a prayer that the things i'm gearing up for work out in my favour so that i don't dig myself so far into the red it's impossible to recover. when i get home, i'll see what i can sell, salvage and give away to save myself from another year of hanging onto my past four provinces away.