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A Minimalist Mini-Transformation

Posted on by noemikjames / 11 Comments

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The first few weeks after I embraced minimalism I moved like a wildfire through my house. I tackled the living room and kids room with quick precision and while I know I will continue to minimize what I keep in those in those rooms, I feel like I’ve accomplished a lot there. I have not formally “done” my room and I want to say it remains untouched but that isn’t true. It’s way neater than it ever was before, but in comparison to the others spaces in the house, it feels like a disaster are. I look forward to making significant progress there in the near future. The kitchen is going to be harder because I need to work closely with my husband in that space; the kitchen is his domain and the last thing I want to do is get rid of something he deems necessary or important.

I continue to get rids of lots and lots of stuff. I’ve thrown away five big garbage bags, given away four bags of clothes (mine and the kids), gotten rid of three big bags of toys and lots of larger baby items and made two trips to the electronic recycling center. Plus I’ve dropped off four bags worth of books (all mine) at the library. My hall is currently bag-free, though I’ve already started a new clothing donation bag in my room and I really need to make some hard decisions in my daughter’s “library.”.

I also still need to pare down my own wardrobe significantly. That is going to be hard but I’m getting in the right mindset. I’m starting to take note of the pants and shirts I don’t wear much and I’m giving myself ultimatums: if something isn’t worn a lot in the next month or two it won’t make the final cut.

I’ve only been pursuing minimalism for a couple months but already the effects have been significant. My house looks so much better and I feel so much less stress. In the living room, where I spend the majority of my time, the surfaces and the couch are all clear, and every night I clean up the floor and sweep or vacuum it (this is out of necessity–my son’s “cheerios habit” is totally out of control and remnants of it are left EVERYWHERE). The hallway is also totally clean and swept or vacuumed. The bathroom is even in good shape, which is nice because that space is small and becomes unmanageable quickly. My son’s room is always super clean but I struggle more with my daughter’s. I need to create a “pick up your stuff” routine with her every night. We have been thinking about giving her a quarter a day allowance so she can start working towards things she wants after the “you can ask Santa for that” card expires. Obviously these two things will dove tail nicely.

One of the spaces I most appreciate being clean is the entry way. Normally a depository for all our shit as we walk in the door, I’ve been really careful not to let things accumulate there. I’m always taking stuff back up into the house as I make trips to and from the laundry (in the garage). Now, when I get home, I’m greeted by clean floors and even some open space on the shoe rack bench. It’s a really refreshing way to return home and it sets an expectation for what the rest of the house will look like.

There is still a lot of work to do and already stuff is accumulating in some rooms that I spent a lot of time simplifying. But all in all, now that I know where everything goes in each room (and I’ve thrown our or given away the rest) I am able to actually keep the spaces cleaned up. And after only a few weeks of doing so, I find I CRAVE that clean, open space. It seems I’ve already created a habit for myself of picking up as I go along and then doing whatever needs to be done in the last hour of the day to make sure everything is in its right place. It really bothers me now when things are awry, which I think is hilarious because I used to live in such abject chaos.

{More on habits later–I’m reading a fascinating book about them, recommended to me in a comment on a previous post–THANK YOU!.}

So yes, minimalism has already created massive positive changes in my life. I know I still have a LONG way to go and I’m realizing that there is so much more I can get rid of and that even though I have spaces for some things, it doesn’t mean I need to keep there. I believe 2015 will be the year of truly redefining what is important to me and determining what I (and my family) need and that by this time next year my space, and my life, will be transformed.

Health & Well Being/Minimalism

The $64,000 Question

Posted on by noemikjames / 8 Comments

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I haven’t written about it in a while, but I’m still embracing minimalism in my life. As I suspected, it’s becoming about much more than just a culling of my stuff. I want minimalism to seep into the very core of my being.

This is not just about simplifying the stuff that I own. It’s about simplifying my life.

Thanksgiving week was crazy, I had so many things to get done and absolutely no time to do any of them. At the end of the week I felt like I need a few days off just to recuperate. That is not how I want to live my life.

So I’m not going to.

My writing class wrapped up. I definitely won’t be signing up for another class any time soon.

Oh, and I quit the magazine.

I had been thinking about it for a long time. I realized that I didn’t even want to attend the meetings anymore. Everything about that commitment had become a chore. I was doing it just in case. Just in case a great writing assignment came up. Just in case I someday needed editing experience. Just in case a potential BFF were to join the staff. Just in case something happened that would make it worth my while.

But it wasn’t worth it and doing it just in case was about a poverty mentality. Doing something I don’t really want to do because it may be helpful some day is detrimental in the here and now. And who knows, maybe that commitment was keeping me from exploring something truly amazing, something that will bring me joy in the present moment.

So I quit the magazine. My writing class is over. 1st trimester grades have been turned in. My house is clean (seriously, it’s amazing, more on this later). In the evenings, I have some time.

And now I have to figure out what to do with it.

It’s not much mind you, just 30 minutes here, maybe 45 minutes there. But it’s my time and I have some say in how I want to spend it. Some nights I’m going to bed earlier. Some nights I’m indulging in some mindless TV. I have fiction books to read, and a couple of non-fiction. I have blogs to comment on.

I have a blog to write.

How do I want to spend my time?

It can be really hard for me to answer that question.

I remember when I was dealing with compulsive overeating and I read a book that changed my life. The main tenant of the book was to eat what you wanted. The central exercise was to determine exactly what it was you wanted to eat, and then to indulge that craving. I remember sitting in my kitchen, paralyzed by the thought that I could eat whatever I wanted, because I couldn’t for the life of my figure out what that might be. It took me months of trial and error to learn to decipher my cravings and determine what I actually wanted to eat.

That exercise set me on the path away from compulsive eating. It was truly life changing.

And now I have the same difficult task ahead. Once I’ve stripped my life of all the static and noise, what will I do in the silence? How do I actually want to spend my few precious moments of quiet time?

The truth is, right now I have no idea. But I’m kind of excited to find out.

I’m also kind of terrified. I recognize that all the stuff I piled into my life, it served one main purpose–to distract me. My whole life, and all the stuff in it, is basically one elaborate distraction. And now that I’m stripping it away, I’m going to have to face what I’ve been distracting myself from. Facing whatever is lurking underneath all the bells and whistles and bright lights is going to take a considerable amount of strength. It’s going to be difficult, but I think I can do it.

Beating compulsive overeating was the hardest thing I ever did. I was held hostage by food for years of my life. There were months when my entire future held only minute after minute–lined up neatly into eternity–of being completely obsessed by what I would eat. Compulsive eating was my whole world, I couldn’t see past it. But I fought my way out of that destructive relationship with food and I’ve managed to avoid it for ten years. If I could do that, I can do this, whatever this ends up being.

Do you struggle with knowing what you really want to do?

Connection/Friendship/Identity

Still Grappling with Grief

Posted on by noemikjames / 13 Comments

As always, I’ll start with a thank you for your kind and concerned words. I want to assure everyone that I am currently taking medication, though perhaps I need to look into tweaking the dosage. It is the fifth thing I’ve tried in my life and the only one that has ever done anything positive for me so I don’t think I’ll stop taking it to try something else. It really is the most effective medication for managing my symptoms.

Honestly, the hurt and sadness you are hearing is still rooted in the linger effects of that lost friendship. I imagine a chorus of, Just get over it already!, every time I return to this subject but I don’t think I can accurately relate how devastating the whole thing has been for me. I am still sad. I am still grieving. I’m still cycling through denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance, sometimes on a daily basis. I’m still raw and hurting. I’m still wondering why. I’m still unsure how to proceed in the face of so much confusion and uncertainty.

There were a lot of triggers to remind me of this friendship in past month and especially in the past couple of weeks. Each one dredged up more pain and deeper sorrow. I eventually returned to my daily crying jags and the emotional exhaustion they entail. While I was doing better for a while there, the past two weeks have been really difficult.

Then on Friday I faced another friend issue that had me spiraling once again. I really struggle with how to process friendships when someone I love does something I can’t understand, even if I recognize that they have completely different motivations and their actions could mean completely different things than they would if I were to do the same. That is something I definitely need to work on.

In the end it comes down to a loss of faith and trust, in both myself and others. I’m still grappling with how and why my other friendship imploded, and in the aftermath I don’t trust the friendships I still have to withstand any kind of turmoil.

The idea of losing another friendship is simply more than I can bear.

So that is where I am right now and I truly believe grief is sitting at the core of this depressive episode. I am still grieving, even though very few people in my real life acknowledge or validate my loss, even though the expectation is that I dusted myself off and moved on months ago. I am still managing this grief and it’s still really hard.

You’d think that after suffering a miscarriage I’d be pretty good at mourning a loss no one else recognizes, but I’m finding it just as difficult this time around. With my miscarriage I found a community of women who had been through something similar and who knew all the right things to say. I found empathy, understanding and support and it was easy to feel like I belonged. There is no community like that for this kind of loss. There is nowhere to find other women writing about these same feelings. That makes it hard. It also makes me intensely grateful for the support I did eventually receive after my miscarriage, when I finally found the ALI community. I’d hate to think where I’d be if I’d had to walk that lonely, heartbreaking path alone.

I just wish there were a community like that for the path I’m walking now.

Health & Well Being/Identity

Lemon

Posted on by noemikjames / 9 Comments

I am tired. Tired of working on myself. Tired of something being wrong. Tired of needing to change.

It started when I was 16, and it’s been an endless procession of depression and disordered eating and anxiety and ADD and addictions and compulsions and therapists and medications and wondering why I can’t ever seem to pull my shit together for any extended period of time.

There is always something, something threatening to swallow me whole.

I’ve spent the last 18 years managing all these things, wondering if they are even real, trying to validate my struggles with them. I have always seen myself as damaged, as not able to handle struggle the way others could, as lacking in some way.

When I made it to 24 without ever being in a meaningful relationship–or any romantic relationship for that matter–I took it as confirmation that something was wrong with me. It’s been hard, in the fallout of an important friendship, not to hold it as further proof that I am just wrong in some way. Being rejected by someone close to you really messes with your sense of self-worth.

I remember when I was 16 and my parents were looking for a used car for me to drive. I had just totaled the Jetta they got me, 36 hours after I got my license (yep, still can’t think about that without cringing) and they were looking for something a little more solid. A Volvo 240 seemed to be just the thing, and I remember the extensive conversations we had about what good cars they were… unless you got a lemon.

I was terrified of getting a lemon. It would require a lot of work and money and it would never feel dependable. I would always be worried it might break down, at any moment.

Sometimes I feel like I’m a lemon; basic functions that seem to work fine for everyone else are always short circuiting in me. I require more work and replacement parts just to run as well as everyone else. Sure, at the end of the day I’m still functioning, but is it really worth the time, energy and resources to keep me on the road?

{And I want to make clear that when I “compare” myself to others it’s not to determine who has it “better” or “easier,” but is an attempt at normalization. I’m trying to determine what should be expected as part of the human experience. Pretty much every “diagnosis” I’ve ever received is basically a determination that I am “more” or something than I am expected to be in my circumstances (depression is being “more” sad than is expected in a set of circumstances), so the next logical step is for me to compare my experience to others in an attempt to determine if it’s expected or anomalous in some way.}

I know everybody struggles (and that many struggle MUCH more than I do), and I know that I’m probably not going to witness many of those struggles. But I also know the subtle signs and symptoms of struggles like my own and I don’t see them in the people I know. Without some kind of confirmation that others are dealing with these issues it’s hard not to think that I am incongruous in some way. That something isn’t quite right inside me.

Maybe if  had more friends who shared these kinds of experiences with me I’d feel less abnormal, but I don’t have many close friends. (Yet another confirmation that I am not quite right.)

Or maybe life is just hard and it will always feel like a struggle, and I just don’t manage that struggle as well as others do. Or maybe I’m just not as good at hiding how wearing it can be to manage that struggle.

I’m struggling with how to conclude this post, to instill some actual meaning or purpose into this mess of woe-is-me navel-gazing. I haven’t quite figured out why I’m feeling this way right now, why these 18 years are suddenly crushing me. I suppose I thought I’d move past all these issues at some point, that maturity and life experience would help me surpass decades of depression and other issues. I guess I thought that arriving at the life I always wanted would alleviate the anxiety. But I’m here and I’m still struggling, and I’m realizing that I will always be struggling and the reality of that is overwhelming. The realization that the darkness will keep descending, that I will always have to fight it back, that depression is a part of me, a part of the way my brain works, that it has soldered a lens into my perception that will color my life, that questions about how to best manage depression and whether we over-medicate will always have acute personal significance to me, that I will have to answer hard questions about how to manage depression in the long run, that this is my life, and no amount of “arriving” will allow me to leave it behind.

That this is my present as well as my past, and that it will most likely be my future.

Health & Well Being/Identity/Marriage/Minimalism

Speaking Shame

Posted on by noemikjames / 30 Comments

I’m sorry I left for two weeks without a word.

I never intended to be gone for so long. I faced a perfect storm of deadlines (my final Creative Nonfiction assignment, first trimester final grades and sale expirations for photo gifts) and family obligations (Turkey Day and Turkey Day Part Deux) and there was just never any time to write here.

Oh, and I was admitting to myself, and more painfully my husband, that I have a compulsive buying problem.

So yeah, there was that.

I have been trying to figure out how to say it. Or better said, I’ve been trying to avoid having to say it, let alone figuring out how. It’s a weird thing because on the one hand it seems kind of silly, and trite, like hey, I buy too much shit (but don’t we all, right?) And on the other hand it’s completely devastating and it sent me into a pit of shame so dark and so deep I’ve spent the last two weeks clawing my way out.

I think I’m finally at the surface, but I’m still mired in the muck of it. I will be for a long time.

I’ve always known that I bought too much stuff, but I never really thought of it as a true problem. Or I guess, I never considered the impulses uncontrollable. I guess I always just figured that if I really wanted to stop, I would find a way.

But as I’ve attempted to embrace minimalism, and drastically overhaul the way we consume, I’m finding it incredibly hard to curb my purchasing. Even when I really truly don’t want to be buying stuff, I still do.

So I started reading some books and checking off indicators, and while there were definitely statements that provoked a “holy shit, at least I’m not that bad” there were just as many that provoked an intensely shaming realization that I have a problem.

I walked around with it for a few days, mentioning it to no one. It was eating away at me, making me absolutely miserable. I felt small and unworthy and truly fucked up.

Then I read a book about overcoming compulsive buying and the very first step was to admit to others that you have a problem so that they can help you hold yourself accountable.

And that is when I totally lost my shit. I had convinced myself that I could manage this without confronting my husband, or anyone else. I felt so much shame that I couldn’t control my spending; I just wanted to make it all go away without him ever knowing about it.

And….

And I knew that if I had to tell my husband about my problem, I’d also have to tell him that I had lied about my finances.

Yes. I have been lying to my husband about how quickly I’ve been paying off my credit card debt to help hide my compulsive shopping problem. My husband was actually taking over the payment to my parents every month so I could put that money toward my debt. And instead I was spending a portion (sometimes all of it) on frivolous, unnecessary purchases. And then I was lying to him about it. Eventually to the tune of a few thousand dollars.

Yeah.

I did that.

And I had to tell him. All of it.

Did I mention it’s been a hard week?

I have to admit, writing this is making my skin crawl. I don’t want to do it. It makes me feel vulnerable in ways I can’t articulate. I worry what you all must think of me. I imagine the collective gasp as you read it. I imagine your pity and your disdain. I imagine you judging me, harshly.

I imagine you doing to me what I’ve done to myself for the past two weeks.

But the truth is, you can’t possible think less of me than I have already thought of myself. I’ve already gasped and pitied and judged, so, so harshly. I’ve already determined that I’m a worthless excuse for a human being. Anything you’re thinking about me, I’ve thought worse. So really, what do I have to lose?

Nothing.

And by telling you, I have everything to gain.

Keeping this problem secret doesn’t help me. It only makes it worse. I’ve tried to control it by myself and I’ve failed–to varying degrees–since I started earning real money at 14. I can’t make it better until I admit it. All of it. Even the parts that make me hate myself. Even the parts that steep me in shame.

Oh the shame. It’s overwhelming.

I’ve been listening to Brené Brown’s “The Power of Vulnerability” again. This is my third time hearing it, but my first time listening to it with shame. I mean, I always have shame in my life, but it’s never before been a constant companion. Engaging with the talk this time has been truly life changing. I’m so thankful for her work and the incredible way she shares it. I shudder to think where I’d be right now if I didn’t have her to guide me through shame, to help me understand what it is and why it’s so hurtful. To remind me that secrecy and judgement make it grow exponentially, and to assure me that speaking shame–and responding to it with empathy–are the first steps in overcoming it.

So here I am, speaking my shame. I’ve already told my husband–I had to sit with him and try to explain, through my tears, why I lied to him–and now I’m telling you. I’m working hard on my compulsive buying problem, and I’m making small gains. It’s going to take a lot of work, but for the first time in my life I have a sliver of hope that I might get ultimately overcome this issue.

Again, I apologize for falling silent for two weeks and then returning with this.

And I thank you for being gentle as you share your thoughts.

Health & Well Being/Minimalism

Maintenance

Posted on by noemikjames / 7 Comments

Thank you for your comments on my last post. Quite a few of them suggested that I didn’t make myself clear and I want to revisit the issue again, after I’ve had some time to process. I did appreciate responding to all the comments. It quickly became clear that I wasn’t quite sure what exactly I was trying to communicate with that post, but the more I responded to comments the more developed the idea became. The post also inspired a couple of email/text/message exchanges that enlightened me. I hope to write a follow up post soon.

In the meantime, I want to write a little about maintenance.

I’m getting pretty burned out on my Jillian Michaels DVDs and started abandoning that extra 30 minutes on my thrice weekly workout. Most of the time I just hit the elliptical for 30-45 minutes and leave it at that. At first I was feeling really upset and disappointed in myself about it, but as I sailed through the increased candy consumption of Halloween without my pants getting tighter (I never get on the scale anymore and just gauge where my body is by how my clothes fit) I realized I don’t have to commit to the duration and intensity of exercise that I had before. I have arrived at my ideal weight. I feel really good about the way I look, the way I feel and the way my clothes fit. I am where I want to be, and it doesn’t take as much effort to stay here as it did to get here in the first place.

I still need to exercise–for me it’s more about mental than physical health at this point–but in the absence of my former regimen I’m unsure how to maintain strength and endurance without burning out.

I want to add in a once weekly yoga session of some kind because I definitely need to make stretching a priority again, and yoga does wonders for my piece of mind. I have one audio track I can follow, but I know I’ll get bored of that quickly so I should find some DVDs or apps that can help me get on my mat once a week.

I know I’ll keep up the elliptical because aerobic exercise is what calms my thoughts and releases the endorphins that make me feel good. I doubt I’ll tire of that 30 minutes because it provides one of my only retreats to read blogs or a good book.

The strength component is what I’m least sure of. I downloaded the 7 minute workout app and really like the free full-body workout. There are other, more targeted workouts for your upper body, core and lower body and each one only costs $1.99. I think I’ll try one and see if I like it and if I do, I’ll invest in the others. Maybe doing a circuit of those throughout the week will be enough for me to maintain my strength and form without burning out.

It struck me as I’ve been trying to develop a workout regimen that I can stick to for the long haul that I haven’t made exercise a priority in my life for a long time. It used to be something I always made time for, but when I met my husband I set it aside to spend more time with him (sadly exercise is not a priority in his life at all). I am thankful that the stalled weight loss after my second pregnancy inspired me to return to exercise again–it really is a positive addition to my weekly routine.

I am also using this realization to inspire me on the minimalism front. Right now the work I am doing is hard and time consuming and exhausting (and emotionally fraught), but if I keep it up, and get where I want to be, maintaining those changes will require a lot less effort. I’m lucky that this initial push is producing results that inspire me to keep going, despite the ambivalence I sometimes feel (much like my initial workouts changed my body in ways that compelled me to keep putting on a sports bra even when I just wanted to watch TV). If I can get to a place of maintenance in this aspect of my life, my day to day experiences will be much improved.

How do you maintain the routines that work for you? Do you have to change things up sometimes to stay motivated or interested?

{Oh, and any suggestions for yoga or strength DVDs/apps/audio tracks would be most appreciated!}

Connection

Desperately Seeking an Honest Dialogue

Posted on by noemikjames / 17 Comments

A couple of days ago I put up the following on FB:

My son is wonderful and amazing and I’m thankful for him every single day, but holy $#!^ he’s exhausting. Seriously, the next few years are going to be loooooong.

I got a few, “the next FEW years?! comments, which I appreciate because I know it’s going to be crazy until… well… forever?, but most of the responses were sacchariney sweet platitudes about how fast this time flies and how soon I won’t be cool so I better savor it and how cute he is (“but he’s always smiling!”).

What I was looking for was a little recognition and validation, for someone to say, “these years are going to be long, and it might really suck, but you’ll make it through.” What I got instead was an admonishment to cherish this time and a reminder of how cute my kid is.

I get it. I really do. Time does fly and someday I won’t be cool and truly, my son really is cute. (And he is always smiling, as far as FB is concerned.) All of this is true. But right now shit is hard. I am exhausted. And sometimes I wonder why it’s so hard and why I’m so exhausted. Sometimes I spend all day asking myself: Am I doing it wrong? Is it harder for us than it is for others? Why am I drowning even though nothing specific is wrong? Is it ever going to get better?

As far as I know, everyone else with two kids is having a great time of it. It’s all laughter and hugs and siblings interacting in adorable ways. That is what I see on social media. That is what I hear about at whatever birthday party we’re attending this weekend. It’s always the same… and it’s always positive.

I’m guilty of it myself. My whole FB wall is a parade of cute pictures of my adorable kids. I recite the same spiel at birthday parties and other events. As far as anyone knows, we’re having a fabulous time as a family of four.

The thing is, I feel like I have to put that kind of stuff up. It’s expected of me. It’s the only thing anyone wants to see.

No one wants to hear that it’s hard. No one wants me to share that most days I go to bed wondering how I’m going to get through the next day. No one wants me to post the truth (unless of course the truth is all unicorn farts and fairy queefs).

If I were to post an unhappy picture of my kids, I would be accused of over-sharing, or disrespecting their future selves. (Ironical unhappy pictures are fine, of course, but those don’t inspire any kind of honest dialogue.) No one wants to see pictures of the truth.

So I participate in all the same ways everyone else does. I put up exactly the kinds of pictures that proliferate the suggestion that “everything is always great” and I probably make other people feel alone in their struggles, just like I feel alone in mine.

I understand why we act this way on social media. I recognize that a place like FB–where hundreds of people you don’t really know have access to your information–is not the appropriate venue for meaningful interactions. But if more and more of our personal exchanges are taking place on social media, and we are forced to present only certain aspects of our experience in those venues, when are we supposed to speak–and hear–the truth?

Maybe this is only a problem for people like me, who don’t have many friend in the area to sit down and really talk to. I don’t have anyone that I see on a regular enough basis to really confide in, so I’m left with FB and this blog. I guess I just don’t know where I’m supposed to work through the complicated feelings. Or at least have them acknowledged.

And I think it really does benefit people to know that others are struggling, that two kids or being a SAHM or working outside the home or maintaining a marriage is really kicking their ass. And they don’t know if they can do it at all, let alone do it well. Maybe these feelings wouldn’t be so hard to process if we knew other people were processing them too.

The day after I put up that status update my husband thanked me for sharing it. “It’s exactly how I feel,” he said. But I know that is how he feels, and he knows that I know–we talk about it all the time–and yet it still meant so much to him that I put it out there. It still took a weight off his shoulders, just the slightest public acknowledgement of our struggle.

In the end I’m not sure what the answer is. I understand why social media isn’t an appropriate place to unload our burdens, but I also know that some of us don’t have anywhere else to unload. And I think we could all benefit from a little more truth and a little less filter. I just wish it were all easier to navigate, because I think we could all benefit from more authentic support and less glossy perfection.

Do you think social media can be a place to give and receive authentic support? Where do you go to feel acknowledged and understood?

Minimalism

Losing Steam

Posted on by noemikjames / 11 Comments

Thank you for your supportive words on my post about the state of my house. It wasn’t easy to write (or publish), but it was important to put out there. I really do believe that admitting to a problem in a brutally honest way is the first (and a very necessary) step to affecting change.

I continue to trudge forward on my initial sweep of the house, but I have to admit, I’m losing steam. I’m trying to remember that I have plenty of time (my whole life!) to par down my belongings, but there is a part of me that is impatient to see dramatic results and I’m starting to feel frustrated by how much work is required.

I’m also struggling with making choices that are in line with my new philosophy. Turns out three decades of intense consumerism are hard to turn off! I’m making mistakes, but I’m cognizant of them and I’ve had the will power to stop myself from making some clearly irresponsible calls (the DVD of a show I can have my kids watch for free on YouTube? NOT NECESSARY!) I’m continuing to put things on my list instead of buying them but some purchases slip past my defenses, cloaked in elaborate (and ultimately bullshit) excuses. Of course I’m going to struggle right now, I’ve only just begun, but still, everything feels hard and the majority of the time I feel like I’m failing.

But I keep moving forward. Every day I try to tackle on more problem area. Tonight I want to go through my make up and jewelery because they require little effort (I almost never wear either), but will produce dramatic results (the make-up/jewelry section of my room is always a total shit show).

I’m thinking more and more about what minimalism means to me and how I’m going to manifest its principals in my life. This first pass will get us to a place where everything we own fits easily into the space that we have. Will that be enough for us? Or will I want to par down our belongings even more? And will my husband be on board? I’m actually running into more resistance with him than I expected, but I think he’ll come around as the house transforms.

Already the house feels more manageable, even with all the work I still have to do. Each room is still messy, but I know where the individual items go so I don’t feel overwhelmed. I find myself quickly picking up my son’s floor before putting him to bed, just because I can. I haven’t even really cleaned my room out yet but there is already a nice path around my bed an the piles are smaller and less dense.

The hardest thing right now is getting rid of the stuff we no longer need. I’ve had to haul three huge bags to the dumpster at my work because we don’t have space for them in our garbage. I was lucky that my mom’s work was collecting women and children’s clothes last week so I gave five huge bags to her. I’ve sold about $100 worth of stuff on Craigslist and dropped a bunch of toys and some clothes off at our local consignment shop. I put two big bags of books in the donation bin at the library near my work today and I have a bag of baby gear that I plan on dropping by the Young Families Resource Center early next week. I’m still not sure where to drop off our big box of broken/obsolete technology and I’d like to give the blankets and bedding to a shelter where they’ll be put to good use. I have no idea what to do with the huge bag of DVDs. Our hall way is lined with giant IKEA bags full of stuff that I’m waiting to get rid of. Purging your home of access crap is hard work.

My god we have so much stuff. I just don’t understand why I didn’t get rid of most of it ages ago (like when we moved!). Why did I need to embrace an extreme idea like minimalism just to par down our belongings to a reasonable amount? It’s like I had to aim for a really drastic reduction of stuff just to get rid of what I should have been getting rid of anyway. I’m not quite sure what that is about, but I’m hoping I’ll figure it out at some point.

And with that I’m going to go clean out my jewelry and make up. Wish me luck.

{I just found this while sorting through the books on my husband’s side of the bed (we have built-in bookshelves on both sides of our room). Bwahahaha! The fact that I just found this workbook–totally untouched–while purging my belongings in an attempt to live more simply, is hilarious to me.}

photo-212

Health & Well Being/Parenting & Family

Busted Lady Business

Posted on by noemikjames / 7 Comments

We interrupt your regularly scheduled program to talk about… my busted lady business!

Oh yes, you read that, right. This is a post about my vag.

I don’t know how common vaginal or uterine complications are after vaginal delivers but my guess is I’m not the only one who has been dealing with busted lady business after pushing a couple of human beings out of her lady bits. Unfortunately, most women aren’t talking much about this stuff because, well VAGINAS, but I think prolonged vaginal/uterine issues should be a part of the vaginal births dialogue. Maybe if women knew the potential consequences they would be better prepared to manage them.

My daughter was big (nine pounds) and I received a third degree tear when she was born. The resulting scar tissue made sex uncomfortable and sometimes painful. I went to five pelvic floor therapy appointments–and did some work at home–that were somewhat helpful but the discomfort continued.

My son was also big but I guess I was stretched out because I only received a one degree tear despite the fact that he emerged with his elbow up by his head. When we finally resumed sex after my son’s birth, the pain seemed to be gone. I was thrilled! I assumed that the second birth had stretched the scar tissue enough to alleviate the discomfort I was feeling.

Then we started using condoms and the pain came back. I assumed the latex was irritating my scar tissue (despite the mountains of lube I use every time we get busy) and that once we settled on a more permanent form of birth control (and could ditch the condoms) the pain would subside. Unfortunately that was not the case, and eventually I realized that I had developed a fissure (read: open wound) on my perineum, right where my scar tissue had been.

My OB-GYN suggested the fissure was yeast-related and it made sense since it got really bad when we were battling thrush. I took yet another round of Diflucan (my third at that point) and treated it topically, but it never really went away. Around this time I met with my pelvic floor therapist again and she told me I should stop using Al.ways In.finity pads–which I LOVE because I can’t use tampons (more on this later)–because they irritate some women’s skin and might be causing, or at the very least exacerbating, the issue.

I was really bummed to abandon my Al.ways In.finity pads even before I tried the alternative–pure cotton pads the size of pillows. The minute I pulled out one of those gigantic cotton pads I knew I needed another way to manage my periods–I couldn’t wear some pants with these pads, they were so bulky! Tampons hadn’t been very comfortable (the pressed against my perineum) ever since I had my birth (foreshadowing here) so I ordered a Lunette Cup (think Diva Cup, but another brand) with a coupon I had from BlogHer.

It came and I tried it out and was disheartened to find that it fell out pretty much immediately, no matter how many different ways I inserted it. In my obsession to make the menstrual cup work, I fell down the rabbit hole of reviews, discussion threads and posts offering advice. I ended up in an email exchange with a Lunette customer service representative (who was amazing and responded to my emails at all hours of the weekend, despite my assurance that she could wait until Monday to respond). At the end of our exchange she asked if I had a low cervix. I wasn’t sure what was considered “low” and she said if your cervix is only a finger’s length from your vaginal opening during menstruation (it lowers when you have your period), it’s considered low.

Well, that explained why my menstrual cup was falling out: My cervix was less than a knuckle’s length away from my vaginal opening! When I told her this she promptly suggested I contact my OB.

I did and just recently had my appointment, where I was not surprised to be diagnosed with pelvic organ prolapse. It seems I have a combination of two situations, my bladder is falling down onto the vaginal wall  (cystocele) and my cervix is somewhat prolapsed. Of course I had been consulting Dr. Google about how to treat a low cervix and the most common treatment of a prolapsed uterus is a hysterectomy. Obviously I wasn’t going to do that, and I was expecting my OB to tell me I was just shit out of luck, and that I just couldn’t wear a tampon or menstrual cup and that sex and some exercises would sometimes be uncomfortable because of the prolapse. I was pleasantly surprised to learn that there is a relatively simple surgery available to “repair the structural integrity” of my vagina (my phrasing). Evidently they build a “hammock” (my doctor’s phrasing) to hold up the ceiling of the vagina and that should help with many of the issues I’m having.

I’m seeing an OB that specializes in this sort of thing on Wednesday. I hope we’re on the same page about surgery because I’d really like to be able to wear tampons or a menstrual cup now that I have to wear pure cotton pads and I believe some of the discomfort I feel when I have sex and do vigorous exercise is also related to my pelvic organ prolapse. I also wonder if my constant low-level hemorrhoids could also be related.

So that is the saga of my busted vag. Obviously it’s not severely damaged, but it is has been an ongoing issue that I would love to resolve so I can move on with my life. I spend one week a month having my period and am trying to have sex once a week, plus I work out 2-3 times a week, so I am dealing with some version of this busted vag business on a pretty regular basis.

On a related note, my OB stressed that I shouldn’t consider the surgery if I might have another child and I was surprised by the conviction (and relief) in my voice when I assured her we were done having children. I’m so ready to get the inside of my body back in shape so that I can leave the negative physical effects of having children behind me.

Have you dealt with any lingering physical issues after having babies? Have they gotten better over time?

Health & Well Being/Minimalism

A League of its Own

Posted on by noemikjames / 14 Comments

I get the feeling sometimes that when I write about how messy my house is, the people reading nod their heads and think, yeah, my house is messy too.

They think they get it. They think they understand.

Except they don’t.

No really. They don’t really understand. The messy they visualize and the messy I’m talking about… they are completely different. The messy I’m talking about is in a league of its own.

Sure, I’m not a hoarder. Sure, there people with dirtier, messier houses than mine. But honestly, I doubt that anyone reading this blog really understands how gross my house gets. How gross my house is 99% of the time.

When I say that you can’t see the floor in the master bedroom, I mean, quite literally that YOU CANNOT SEE THE FLOOR. Not one part of it. Anywhere. It is covered in shit: clothes, boxes, paper, receipts, more clothes, clean clothes, dirty clothes, more clothes, socks, underwear, random articles that don’t have a home, books, pictures, hangers, the list goes on, maybe forever. That is how much shit there is on my bedroom floor. And under that shit is dust and sand and cat hair and layers of sediment. It has probably been swept three times in the last two years. Okay, maybe five. But honestly, it could be three. When I get into bed I have to clean my feet because they are black from walking around my house, and covered in sand and other debris from walking around my room.

When I say that my bathroom is disgusting I mean just that. It’s dirty to the point of unsanitary. You would be appalled to know that all four of us use it on a daily basis. And yes, we only have one bathroom, so we’re all using it all the time.

The shower gets so gross that recently it took FOUR Mr. Clean magic erasers just to get the scum off. I didn’t realize that my shower doors weren’t actually frosted, it was just a uniform layer of filth caking the glass. There is mold permanently growing around and in our sink basin. The toilet wreaks.

My car recently started smelling so bad that I was finally forced to clean it out. In excavating through the junk I found an entire lunch that my MIL had given to us to feed to Isa just rotting under the seat. Who knows how long it had been there. I drove it with the smell for over a week before I finally broke down and looked for what was so rank. An entire week of driving a car that smelled like a dozen shitty diapers.

So when I write a post like yesterday’s and say that I think the way my house looks says something about who I am, I’m not talking about what it means if my toilet isn’t sparkling or if there are a few books and toys and shoes in the back seat. I’m talking about living with a level of mess and filth that the people reading this probably can’t actually fathom. I’m talking about grossness on an incomprehensible scale.

When I say that I NEED to this, to life a minimalist life, I’m not being facetious. I really do NEED this. We can’t continue to live this way.

And when I say I’m ashamed of the what I’ve let my house become, it’s not about a few dishes in the sink or missing a weekly toilet scrubbing, it’s about actually wondering if CPS could take my kids based on how messy our house sometimes gets.

That is the kind of disorder I am talking about.

You may wonder why I am writing this. Why would I share this with the world?

I need to be honest about this. I need to put my truth out into the world or I will never own it, and things will never change. In AA the first step is to admit that you have a problem and are powerless to stop it. This is my admission: I can’t manage my life. Eventually, my stuff will consume me. I need to admit that to myself more than to anyone else, but I can’t know and accept it as truth, not really, if I don’t put it out there.

I would also love to think that, in admitting this terrible secret, I’m letting someone else know that they are not alone. That when I say my house looks like a disaster area it actually does, and I’m not referring to a few toys are strewn about an otherwise pristine living space. That I get it, and I don’t judge. But honestly, I don’t really believe that anyone reading this is living in a home that resembles my own. I don’t believe that anyone reading this could stand to live in the conditions I endure.

This thing I’m doing, this attempting to live a minimalist life, it’s not about cleaning my bathroom more. It’s about having a bathroom that I might actually be able to clean. It’s not about vacuuming my car’s interior once a month, but getting the level of crap down to a point where my daughter’s legs can hang in front of her car seat. I have so much work to do, but I really hope to get it all done.

Because when I say that my house is dirty, and someone nods their head in understanding, I want to think that we’re imaging the same level of disarray, instead of accepting that what she considers messy I would probably consider clean. I want to think that I’m more like everyone else.