Just Throw Everything Away: Since when is not dying even one time in my entire life so far not a big deal? And also because not bringing a shitload of shame to my family is important to me. When stability was only a vague concept, I thought it meant being rooted in one place, both physically and psychically.
Basically, psychic stability is about not losing your motherfucking shit. Although I have not been rooted in one place physically, I am always at home because of Harv and Cal.
I am with my people. So, greetings from Texas. My fam and I moved to Austin in July. My maxim for this transition has been and still is: Packing is one of my only skills.
Two months before our move date, I spent a week buying packing supplies- hundreds of boxes, cartons of tape, professional-grade tape dispensers, foam peanuts, bubble wrap, color-coded stickers, stacks of packing paper, and ten rolls of Necco wafers.
As the mountain of packing materials grew, Harv campaigned for professional packers. Each time he suggested it, I reminded him that sorting and packing were my passion.
Of course you should do it all. Fifteen days before the move, I woke up still feeling unmotivated and lazy, but I forced myself out of bed to go to the gym. That simple act filled me with pride as I gloated about my newfound agility and strength since exercising on the reg.
In the midst of those congratulatory thoughts, I fell down the stairs. Luckily, the cup of water I was holding hit my face as I tumbled forward, so I felt awake and refreshed as I lay on the floor. My vision wavered and I felt dizzy as Cal helped me up. The vertigo proved burdensome because I still had a lot of packing to do. Oftentimes, I got so dizzy that I would have to sit down or lean against a wall until the world stopped spinning.
They were too big or heavy to take onto the plane or leave with my brother. I sat on the kitchen island trying to sort out my next steps. I felt boxed in, lost in all of the material baggage I had accumulated to fill the empty spaces in my heart. Instead of looking for ways to save everything, I left all of it behind.
I set up another donation pick-up, and bagged up the items that were only valuable to me but to no one else for the garbage pile. Decluttering an entire life and home requires more than a handful of days.
I did not tell my mother we were moving away. My life was wholly comprised of secrets until I became a mother and a wife. I made a commitment never to live on the periphery of truth again, but I slipped back into those shadows when we decided to move. I physically left the city and my childhood family behind.
I removed them from my life. I still have a handful of objects in my possession from back in the day. The entire lot fits inside one large plastic storage tub. They are my tangible connections to milestone moments.
Sometimes, I debate the merits of donating it. I kept the baby. I still wish for things that will never come. I wish my childhood family could have been my forever family. But I have Harv and Cal and a new beginning here in Austin. Stumbling through the thicket of longing is wasted time I will never get back. Then head towards Plan B. Austinites sure know how to be supportive because more than people came out. It was one of the highlights of my year.
I was just hoping to make new friends in my soon-to-be home city, but I got so much more than I anticipated.
Look at the Stars. Look How They Shine for You. After I immigrated to the U. I still read every day. So going forward, whenever I stumble upon brilliant writing or not-that-brilliant-but-fascinating-AF writing, I will share it with you. Please read this if you are going through rough times. You think you have problems, but is one of your arms trying to tear the other arm off?
This story is lit.