The Roomcleanopocalypse

[charamei]

So, when I was three or four years old my dad threw a tantrum about the state of my room (because, oddly enough, toddlers don't tidy) and went through it with a bin liner, thereby instilling in me a lifelong fear of throwing anything out.

Thanks, Dad.

As a result, now that I have to downsize when I move out, there aren't enough charity sacks in the world.

Over the past few months I have chucked:

• Three, soon to be four bin liners full of clothes


• Two charity sacks full of empty ringbinders and notebooks (and I still have a mountain of the latter to wade through)


• A bin liner full of DVD cases (kept the DVDS, just chucked the cases to make space. Will probably do the same with Big Finish in the future)


• Boxes and boxes of books

And you still can't see the floor properly. Partly this is because the horrible placement of my fitted wardrobes means that, if I want to be able to see what garment I'm holding, I pretty much have to use a laundry basket instead. There's plenty of new space in trunks and on shelves, just... nothing's coming off the floor. Yet.

And yeah, I'm hating it. Seeing a clean floor after I tidy isn't rewarding for me, it's scary and unpleasant. But at least I can now stand to have a charity sack in my room without crying, so that's definitely an improvement over my seven-year-old self.

Comments

[dreamingpixels]

Oh man, my mother used to do the same thing to me, but she started when I was seven and kept the "room cleanings" up until I was at least 16. She would just go through and scoop up anything on the floor and donate it to charity, and as punishment, she'd even take away some stuff I'd neatly put away on a shelf, or things she knew I was attached to. My mom's got a terrible mean streak...

[charamei]

Yeah, my dad threatened to do it again a couple of times, but I think my mum stopped him. I never realised how much she was protecting me from his horrible parenting skills until they split up two years ago. The constant criticism's bad enough, but combine it with a hair-trigger temper and a need to always be right (apparently my mum is mentally ill. Nobody sane would leave him! This was said TO MY FACE.) and... yeeeah.