Everything everywhere feels like a mess

Clearing out the garage, my brain, and the emotional junk drawer.

I’ve started organizing my life. Physically. Emotionally. Financially.

This started after my nephew died while going through his belongings. The aftermath of what I learned about his life hit me hard, and for a while, I didn’t know what to say. I needed something practical. I started listing things on eBay. His stuff. My stuff. Stuff I had sitting in boxes for years. Old gear. Collectibles. Books. That turned into a system. I’d sort, photograph, post, and ship. It gave me something to do. It also reminded me how much money I had tied up in things I didn’t actually use or need.

Since then, my role in my parents’ lives has changed. They need more from me now—guidance, help, and attention. It’s not just their crisis. It’s also mine. I’ve realized I can’t help them effectively if I don’t have my own house in order. Literally and figuratively.

So I’ve been taking inventory. Cleaning out my old belongings. Selling what I can. Throwing away what no longer makes sense to keep. I’m not becoming a minimalist. I still like things. I just don’t need to be surrounded by clutter that weighs me down or reminds me of plans I never followed through on.

This process isn’t just about stuff. It’s about function. About clarity. I’ve been making to-do lists again. Fixing things I’ve ignored for years. I finally dealt with overdue paperwork. I backed up old photos. I deleted folders I hadn’t opened since 2012.

My finances look better already. I’m not rich, but selling items and cutting expenses made a difference. A few hundred bucks here and there adds up. And it’s helped me stop thinking of my things as permanent. They aren’t. They’re just objects. They don’t have to stay.

Emotionally, I’ve made some shifts. I’ve stopped trying to hold everything in. I speak up more, even when it’s awkward. I say no when something doesn’t work for me. If you ask how I’m doing, I’ll probably tell you the truth. I ask for help when I need it. I’ve let go of a few relationships that weren’t going anywhere. I’ve tried to fix a few that still matter.

Spiritually—again, not in a religious way—I’m learning how to sit still. Sometimes with silence. Sometimes with music. Sometimes with a cup of coffee and a notebook. I’ve started paying attention to how I feel instead of just pushing through the day. Some days still feel awful. But at least I know why.

I’ve been weaning myself off the melatonin. It makes me groggy. I don’t like it.

I’ve also realized that I’m finally open to meeting someone. I’ve spent a lot of time alone. It’s been useful. But I’d like to share life with someone again. It’s not the reason I’m doing all this, but it’s part of the motivation. I don’t want to bring chaos into someone else’s life. I want to show up ready.

What I’m learning is that this isn’t a one-time fix. It’s a shift in how I approach life. Less reacting. More preparing. Less hoarding. More clearing. I’m not trying to reinvent myself. I’m just trying to get real about where I’m at and what I need to do.

It’s easy to delay this kind of work. Life gets busy. Crises come up. But avoidance costs more in the long run—mentally, financially, socially. I’ve avoided enough. I don’t want to spend the next decade playing catch-up.

So I’m doing the work now. Slowly. One box. One list. One step at a time.

It’s not perfect, but it’s a start.