This is the last box to leave the garage. There are no more moving boxes in the garage. Which is not to say, the garage is empty. The right things are in the garage now, the purposeful things. But we are not unpacked, not technically.
Here it is: I am the single greatest roadblock to us being fully, completely, totally unpacked. And I am ashamed and overwhelmed. My office is an overflowing testament to my lifetime collecting habit, compounded by seven years of not taking inventory of all I was amassing. In kindness to me, I blame having to move every two years, and not being unpacked since 2003.
But. And this is a big butt I should have learned from past sessions, when I was overwhelmed by stuff.
I really, really wish I had stuck to a restrictive stuff diet, and resisted the urge to keep every single thing we might want or need. Now I am immobilized by
I am the single greatest roadblock to us being fully, completely, totally unpacked, and besides feeling overwhelmed by the physical workload of undoing my damage, I am scared of progressing, of finally settling down.<---------- That admission is weird and irrational, and probably should have come out in professional therapy.
Geoff is looking for a T-shirt he saw, with a message he knows fits me: "Some people think the world is flat. Cool." There is a guy in a kayak about to go over the edge of the flat world. The message fits me, because deep down inside I suspect that the world is flat, and deep down inside I suspect that if we settle down and make ourselves at home, then it will come undone, and we will have to move, again.<---------- That admission is painful, and possibly irrational, and probably should have come out in professional therapy.
Whatever my psychological deficiencies, and fears, this office is absurd, and it must get whipped in to shape. ugh... this is going to hurt.