Last week I was able to publish a guest post on the website Becoming Minimalist by Joshua Becker. If you haven’t checked him out yet, I highly recommend you do. As I’ve been devouring his YouTube videos, I’ve been inspired to embrace more minimalism.
I just moved into a new apartment and while I don’t own a lot of stuff anyway, I’m reducing my wardrobe to more of a minimalist one (future post).
Anyway, my guest post for Becoming Minimalist is about how I learned to declutter my mind. You can start to read it here and will be directed over to Becoming Minimalist to complete it.
How I Learned to Declutter My Mind
For most of my life, my headspace has been filled with negative self-talk and lies. The tapes that would play over and over in my head went something like this:
- You’ll never be good enough.
- Why can’t you be perfect?
- You are going to mess things up.
- You are worthless and unworthy.
- When will you grow up and learn?
- No one likes you.
- He thinks you’re stupid.
It was a heavy burden to carry. Worse yet, I could go on and on.
Growing up, my emotional security was scarce and my self-hatred was plentiful.
As I write these words, I realize how blessed I am that I almost don’t recognize that girl anymore. The road I’ve taken to trade in that garment of heaviness for one of joy and praise has been the most important journey of my life.
First Things First
As the brain fog of addiction started to lift in early sobriety, I made a vow to unearth the roots of what led me here.
How did I end up to be a full-blown addict in my 30’s? Why did I allow myself to be treated so harshly by men? And where did that little girl go who had a big ‘ol bucket full of dreams? I didn’t know, but I would do whatever it took to find out.
Unfortunately, one is not typically willing to embark on such a soul-searching journey unless there has been deep pain. My bottom was a very dark and lonely place. At the end of my rope I had a vision and was faced with the stark reality that my choices were:
- Insanity
- Death
- Surrender
I clung to the only possible hope I had and fell to my knees.
Early sobriety was challenging and full of confusion and depression. Fortunately, I put myself in places to learn that it could also be full of hope.
As I heard story after story of people who found joy in recovery, I started to believe it could be true for me as well.
