You know that annoying 'when life gives you lemons, make lemonade' slogan? I hate to admit it, but yeah.. okay.. I made lemonade yesterday. Metaphorically.
The sick dog clean-up led to let me vacuum this... which led to ...let's find a place to put this... which led to... you get the picture. And now my train-wreck of an apartment looks positively habitable. Martha Stewart's not going to want to spend any time here, but it's a helluva lot better than its been.
I've been on an apartment-therapy kick for what seems like more than a year now. Purging this place of all remnants of a very, very poisonous love affair. So bad that it was easily 75% of the reason I was suicidal. That's not love, oh what a shock to have figured that out after nearly 5 years, that's masochism. So that very bad man is out of my life for ever and always and so is nearly every material possession that vaguely reminds me of him. Whew! It's amazing how much negative energy (sorry to be so new-agey) STUFF can hold. It's not surprising I wanted to kill myself - it's surprising that I managed not to. And I am so damned happy that I held on long enough to have a giant jolt of revelation that made me realize that suicide is NOT a solution. Not even a teeny bit. But I understand those who have given up, boy do I. I know I will never go there again, and I wish there was a way to reach out and shake everyone who is going through the hell I was in and tell them: there's another way. Stay here! Try a different way, any choice is better than killing yourself. I guess this blog is really me trying to hand a thirsty person a very tall glass of lemonade. Here. Drink up. And stay with us.