Every time I look around my room, I am disgusted by how much clutter there is and the pure volume of possessions that I have. And every time, I always have an excuse why I can’t clean it up at that moment, whether it be having homework or that I just did homework and now I need a break. 

I usually defend my actions, or rather inaction, by pinning the blame on my family’s sentimentality. Even after downsizing our house in 2012, we still have packed and taped boxes in the basement full of things that haven’t been touched in nearly ten years. There’s a whole box dedicated to Grandma Mary’s punch bowl. Grandma Mary hasn’t used it since she passed in the early 2000s and we sure as hell haven’t used it. So why do we keep it?

Maybe it’s because I think keeping some part of her life with us will make her memory seem more real. Maybe it’s because her punch bowl reminds me that she used to throw house parties every weekend in the 70s. Maybe I think someday I will use the punch bowl for my own house party. 

But in reality, I just try to justify owning one more piece of junk that hasn’t been used and won’t be used. 

I don’t want to let go of their possessions because maybe these useless things will fill some of the voids they left when they passed. I can laugh at the absurdity of keeping a vintage punch bowl, but I can’t seem to laugh at the boxes filled with memorabilia of my dad’s coaching and teaching days. 

When my dad passed in 2010, it felt like the only part left of him was his stuff. So we kept it all. I’m talking from his flip phone down to his chapstick. 

So I declare that it’s not my fault that I am such a pack-rat. But I also admit that I am one, which I’ve heard is the first step to solving your problems. The plan is simple: get rid of as much as possible in the next five weeks.