Moving on

In the process of moving into Michelle's, I've decided to sort through all the boxes I've unquestioningly lugged from one address to the next over the last few years. There are boxes of pieces of paper, loads of photos (ones from the degree course and from real student life at the time), books, documents, mementoes and souvenirs of trips or visits....

I have decided to apply a new editing policy. Anything that reminds me of the nervous breakdown, or the subsequent depression, and stupid decisions made during those few years is out. Any photographs which are out of focus, underexposed, of people I'd rather forget or times I don't really remember, are also out. I've given myself a couple of weeks to do it before I actually move in here.

Anything still in usable working order is being donated to charity, other junk is binned. So far I have shifted -
1) 5 years worth of bank statements and visa card bills relating to accounts that have been closed for at least 2 years.

2) 4 pairs of glasses that I haven't worn for ages.

3) The "hopeful" clothes at the back of te wardrobe, even if I do get back to being that size again, I won't want to wear those clothes.

3a) this includes the "trophy" dress - the one I've not worn since May 15th 1999, which was also the last day that I wore make-up and shoes with heels.

4) The court documents relating to my small claims battle against my ex-best friend, the straight girl I fell for who treated me first like a walking bank and then like a walking doormat. 5 years since the case, almost finished the group therapy for the depression, almost dealing with the memory, don't really need the proof.

Some of this is stuff I packed up in boxes in 1995, when I went off for my year out in America thinking Mum and Dad might move while I was away. I came home to find them still sitting there.
8 months after that, when I moved out of their house and into the one with Straight-bitch, the boxes were intact.
Moved out of there 19 months later in a state of shock, into halls of residence in Wolverhampton, boxes still untouched, then a year after that, my parents finally did sell up and moved into their campervan, leaving their own boxes with me at the same time as I moved into my 1st student house.
A year after that, I found myself sleeping on my cousin's couch and spare room floor for 3 months, surrounded by said boxes, and then gave up student living, went part time and moved into my own council flat for almost 2 yrs, putting the boxes into their own little cupboard and ignoring them.
I moved back to Leeds 2 years ago and lugged them around still unopened, and when I got into the house I've been in for the last 2 and a half years, I seriously saw it as a temporary measure and so continued living with the boxes all packed up and ready to go.

But now I'm moving in with Michelle, and she has her own fair share of boxes, and I need to lighten the load.

If I'm lucky, I might fit everything into just one transit van trip - furniture and essential boxes. I have been bringing back what i can carry on foot over the last few days.