Over the past few weeks, I’ve been trying to figure out a good system for processing things to donate, and I’ve collected enough thoughts to write about that. Basically, I have a table near the door where I keep all of my trash, recycling, and now donations. Just as I might bring down my trash/recycling before doing an errand out-and-about, so, too, will I bring bags or boxes of donations to downsize the unyieldly apartment-mansion.
In further refinements of this process, I’ll have an area for bringing things in.
Ideally, that would be in a different area, but the main thing is not being too fancy with processes, or they won’t work. If I have a spot where I know that I can, if, say, I’m going down to my car, I can pick a bag or two to bring down, then it’s much easier than finding that bag halfway across the apartment-mansion, so called because it’s so big and yet so wasted in its potential by things I can donate and maybe eventually sell.
The selling sections are going to be fewer and further between for now.
Selling, say, videogames would require a separate process of playing through part or all of them before deciding their long-term value to me. Most are nice but I don’t need to own them anymore, so I can sell them to clear up space, to move somewhere smaller and now quieter. I have some new neighbors that slam their door as though their life depended on how much force they apply to the door-slamming process – one ounce of strength wasted here, several times a day, and I imagine they think they’re going to be killed by the door-slamming-forces.
My interest in moving outweighs my interest in staying.
I collected many objects from many thrift stores over the years as a way to somewhat help with depression. For me, I assumed, adding more objects into my life would help me feel better. They did, which was the insidious part. What’s helped me more with my depression – situational, rather than chemical; behavioral, rather than, also, chemical – was to address the stress in my life. I was depressed because I was doing things that weren’t making me happy, being around people that were bringing me down, and not self-actualizing in a way where I could get out there and do more with my life.
That’s all changing now that my health is in a better place.
It’s still not wise for me to be overly ambitious. I loaded up about six bags of old clothes to donate and two books along with my trash/recycling. I won’t bring all of them downstairs, but it’s a start. I’m not sure if I’ll try for a weekly or daily process, but I know that I should be doing more, and, it’s useful for me to be more physically active like this. It’s worth noting that it’s important not to overdo it, or, I won’t do it at all. If I can only bring a few things out, good, that’s better than zero things.
Never deadhead when you’re trying to move somewhere better.
Never be emptyhanded when leaving the place you’re moving out of, no matter if you’re moving out today or in a year, because then you’ll just have to move that load of things later on. For me, fortunately, I’ve got a significantly keener eye on what I want to keep versus sell versus donate now, so I can look at things with that sort of long-term eye. The basic idea is that, thanks to my spine problems throughout the past year, I can’t physically move as much as I once used to – and probably never could again.
Why would I want a bunch of things I can’t move?
There are a few heavy items I own, like that aforementioned table, my bed, and some other things that would take two people to move, but, the fewer two-person-move items I own, for example, the easier it could be for me to move a majority of my property into a storage unit to then travel around the world. This past year has also taught me where my interests are, or, what I care or don’t care about. I don’t care about making a lot of money on any of this stuff. I care about it going to not-the-dump. I care about potentially using the stuff I don’t care about to strengthen friendships I have. I don’t care about nostalgia as much anymore.
How will this continue?
I think the biggest thing I learned to overcome was my addiction to technology itself. I still maintain a poor relationship to it. Today was a beautiful day and I only stood outside for less than 5 minutes. I think the better way to phrase it is “my addiction to productivity.” Clutter is potential. You can turn a book you’ve never read into a book you’ve read. Just put it near where you might read it, right? The problem with that is just because you see it every day doesn’t mean you’re going to read it. Your mind will more likely skip over it, and accumulate all of it into a “clutter” mindset where you can’t quite concentrate because your mind is focused on organizing things, but can’t, so it adopts a sort of defeationist attitude.
“If only I could clean up these boxes…”
Well, why not? Start off small so the brain doesn’t feel too weirded out by the change in scenery. I’ve spent hundreds of dollars more in rent each year by worrying about whether I could sell certain items for potentially $50 or $100 dollars. I have a Pennywise shirt hanging up in the storage room/spare bedroom of the apartment-mansion for this reason. I haven’t followed the advice – “penny wise, pound foolish” – but I will more now that I can. Once moved out of the apartment-mansion, it goes in the trunk to then donate.
This downsizing process continues until I’ve moved out completely.
|Sources: My personal experience.|
|Inspirations: It almost motivates me to get out more having this full table, but, I know I shouldn’t over do it.|
|Related: Other Downsizing Zeal essays.|
|Photo: Some bags going out.|
|Written On: 2021 May 16 [5:42pm to 6:02pm]|
|Last Edited: 2021 May 16 [First draft; final draft for the Internet.]|