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  • Writer's pictureDiana Fletcher

3 1/2 Months of Freaking Out

Updated: May 7, 2019

Sometimes it is all TOO MUCH


I am flinging myself into my house. Not around the house. INTO the house. I am decluttering with an energy that is focused and frantic at the same time.

Emotional turmoil has done me in. I did not have my defenses up. These last two years have taken their toll and I know I’m not the only one that feels this way.

I am weary.

I hate everyone.

Even the people I love and respect out there.

I am cranky.

I load up stuff for the thrift store, filling my car, over and over.

I drop off my mom’s unused hearing aids to a volunteer with the Lion’s Club. I stop home, pick up three mens’ suits and take them to Men’s WearHouse where they will donate them to people who need a suits.

I stop at Half Price Books and receive $37 for the items my son said I could throw out.

This is what occupies me.

Projects. I have projects. I make lists of how many outlet covers I need for my basement. I count the light switches. I write everything down.

I send email inquiries about selling some items we own. I want to clear all clutter.

I use KonMari strategies and decide if things bring me joy, or are useful. But I also add something else. Does it make me feel heavy?

Does it make my spirit feel heavy?

I long for space around me, space where I will not feel assaulted by life.

I long to lighten my part of the world.

I also want someone to fight bad guys for me.

I watch movies--I want to see Liam Neeson beat the shit out of bad guys. I want to see Jason Statham take on the giant shark. Good vs evil. Good always wins. I need that.

But it's not enough. I let too much in these last few weeks, these last months, these last two years.

I am raw.

I think about the fact that right now, I am living the experiences that I want to help people get through. I run to the computer to document all of this. This may help in the new self care book I am writing. Hopefully I have some wisdom to share when I come out of this.

If I come out of this.


I continue to donate and don’t have any problem letting go of what I would have formerly thought about in a more sentimental fashion. I critically assess all books in the house, of which there are many. Do they bring me joy? Will I read/reread them? I give away any that don't serve me in some fashion.

I give away a huge bookcase. I happily fill garbage bags and go through shelves and drawers I haven’t looked at for years.

As the clutter clears, I see more of what I DON’T want. I start to envision how I want an unused bedroom to look. It will become a room for reading, meditation, yoga and resting.

In one day I paint the ceiling and paint two coats on the walls. I can’t wait for a painter.I do not enjoy painting but I need it done now. I need to have some control over my environment.

I rearrange furniture in the house. I give away artwork and huge rugs. Someone else can enjoy them.

A lighter look. A lighter feel.

And it’s working. When I began, I felt so weighed down by everything.

My spirit and environment seemed like too much, and it was.

I am creating more room to breathe as I let go of objects that have been just sitting there, adding nothing, but somehow blocking more air.

There will be people who will be delighted to own what I have given away and I hope the objects or clothing or whatever, help to make their days nicer in some way.

I secretly think though, that the benefits are all mine.

I selfishly embrace what I have given myself.

I feel the loveliness of room to breathe, space for my spirit to breathe.

Give Yourself Room to Breathe
Give Yourself Room to Breathe

Freshness and calm are replacing frenzied and sad.


I am still not finished. I will continue until what remains is the essence of those who live here.

I am offered the opportunity to spend a week in the desert, and I look forward to the heat and barrenness to reclaim some of my soul.

Desert hiking soothes my soul

A week for getting rid of the clutter inside of my head. It helps to be in my favorite part of the country, but I still feel vulnerable.

Beauty in the desert

I return from my trip and it's time for the Bill Cosby sentencing. I can’t bear the possibility of him NOT getting a prison sentence. I anxiously await the final words from the judge. With the relief that comes with him being sent to prison, comes the memory of how many women he hurt. I cry for all those women, all those victims.

Then, Dr. Ford speaks, and in her words, I hear all of us. All women who have been assaulted and raped, and degraded. She is everyone.

I am crushed and I can’t listen to any men speak. Even the ones I love. The male energy hurts me.


I did not realize that going to Michigan to help my sister move into her new home would be so healing. I carry and move things and we go for massages. I clean and break up boxes and we move furniture. We go for pedicures. I soak in the feminine energy from the women in the salons and my best friend. I sleep, eat too much and laugh.

I check Twitter infrequently and pay no attention to news. I know how they will vote. I have been in the world a long time.

Later, when I arrive home, I see that I have created a place of healing. My own fortress of good energy and love. I have cleared the clutter, and cleared my thoughts.

I can rest here.

Here I will recover, heal, think and plan. The fight is far from over. There is work to do.

Women's March, Pittsburgh, 2017

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