Last night I cleaned out a wardrobe in the spare room. It was wild, windy, dark and wintery outside. So why was I bothering? Because I wasn’t drinking. Seriously! I have time on my hands, it’s amazing! Back in the old days, I’d come home and have a wine after work because ‘I deserved it/it was a stressful day/it was Thursday (insert any excuse here). My productivity was at an all time low.
But not anymore, things are on the up and up.
Anyway, this wardrobe was musty, dusty and hadn’t been cleaned out in years. I hadn’t even really gone there since I stopped drinking on 1st January 2017. But as I opened the doors and stared pawing through its contents, something massive and unexpected dawned on me.
This wardrobe is the old me. Yes. The clothes, shoes, handbags that I hadn’t given a thought to all year. And to be honest, it was creepy. It was like I was reliving the old, drunken me.
Every time I picked up a jacket or pair of heels, each item gave me flashbacks to different times in my life. And guess what. All the flashbacks were to events related with drinking. For example, one coat took me back to a pub we frequented, far too late and far too often in town. One pair of heels reminded me of a party in town back in my twenties.
Now don’t get me wrong, having fun and socialising with friends and loved ones is fine. What not fine and what made me cringe about these items is that there was a dark and almost dangerous side to the old me. It was how I drunk and why I drunk that, on reflection, scares me. I’m sure if I hadn’t stopped drinking I would have continued into a deeper, darker spiral like an out of control train, racing down a hill and gathering momentum without brakes. Phew, am I glad I caught it early.
While these clothes and other personal effects are still in good condition, I just can’t bear the thought of wearing them again. The associations I have with them are negative, dark and not who I am anymore.
Suffice to say I have a huge bag of stuff that I’ll take to the opportunity shop tomorrow. It feels really good to get these skeletons out of the closet and pass them onto someone who am perhaps give them a second, reinvigorated life.
Once I’d finished with the wardrobe, I felt invigorated and a sense of relief. I don’t want that stuff in my house anymore. It’s toxic and creepy.
Just another step in the journey of the new me. Thank you for reading. 🙏🏼💙🌏