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Anxiety and OCD had been manipulating my life like puppet masters for almost two years when my occupational therapist recommended trying decluttering to help ease my symptoms. At that point, though I'd noticed some improvements from a year in therapy, I'd also been struggling with a few health conditions, including long COVID, and felt like I was trudging along.
Over time, I'd become afraid of leaving my own home as I was petrified of getting sick again. My life often felt meaningless and unrecognizable. I couldn't see how getting rid of some belongings could help. Despite my skepticism, I was desperate to feel like myself again. I yearned for my home to no longer resemble an obstacle course.
My apartment was already cluttered and stressing me out, and then my mom moved; everything I had stored in her garage was suddenly in my living room. My son and I had to create pathways among the boxes to move from one room to another.
"You're repeatedly having to step over your past — you're being reminded of it every day," my occupational therapist said. He had summarized in one sentence exactly why I'd been unable to move forwards. I started decluttering immediately after that appointment.
I looked for a system to help me along the way. The KonMari method caught my eye first, but my sentimental nature decided that everything sparked joy — even a bag of rocks. I'd spent decades giving objects the same sentimental value as the memories they represented, and now, it was hard to get rid of them.
The four-box method — sorting items into boxes labeled keep, donate/sell, storage, and trash — also didn't work for me. When indecisiveness caused by my anxiety took over, almost everything ended up in the storage box, which I basically saw as a "maybe" box. All I ended up doing was pushing it around the apartment. I worried I might regret getting rid of something, so I decided it was safest to get rid of nothing.
However, through working with my occupational therapist, I realized guilt played a part in my holding onto some things — as though getting rid of an item would also mean getting rid of that memory. So, I took a deep breath and prepared to be ruthless.
The next method involved deciding what to keep instead of what to get rid of. This mindset shift made the decluttering process more enjoyable; it was easier to focus on items I treasured than those I would get rid of, even if the end goal was the same. Inspired by decluttering blogs, I also considered whether I would buy the item now if I didn't already own it to help me decide how much I wanted anything I wasn't sure about.
Whenever I struggled with indecisiveness (which was often), I remembered that my home should — and could — be a place where I relax, rather than a cluster of clutter and unmade decisions.
With each carload donated to charity, the stress began to leave my body. The catharsis of releasing my grip on each box as I handed it over gave me the calmness and clarity I craved. I was giving myself permission to move on — permission to stop letting my past rule my present and future.
I hadn't been prepared for when OCD tried to control the situation, though. After a few weeks, I began to feel on edge if I didn't declutter a certain amount of items each day. When I realized what was happening, I forced myself not to declutter for a few days, so I could calm the OCD and return with the right mindset.
A few months into the process, as I continued to declutter my apartment, my sleep improved, and my energy levels increased. I experienced fewer anxious thoughts, and when they did occur, I had the energy to rationalize most of them.
I was untangling myself from the burdens of my past as I removed their physical manifestations from my apartment, freeing up the space in my home so I could finally relax, and giving myself something to focus on other than my spiraling thoughts.
Although I don't believe decluttering opened up a magic portal to my recovery, I have no doubt it helped tremendously. I managed to declutter most of my belongings in what felt like an act of liberation. I've only kept things that I either need or treasure.
My home isn't picture-perfect, and neither is my mental health. But I'm happy. It took me 21 months to finish decluttering my home — I had to pace myself as I couldn't do it every day, or for hours at a time. I finished completely about nine months ago. And in the time since I first started, I've gone from having severe anxiety and being incapable of leaving my home without prior planning, to living a life I can honestly say I adore.
By working with my therapist, reading self-help books, decluttering, going for daily walks, meditating, journaling, and rediscovering the things that bring me joy, the symptoms caused by my anxiety have lessened. I also received support from loved ones, improved my food choices, and developed a morning routine that gives me a feeling of purpose again.
Although anxiety and OCD are still unpaying tenants in my mind, they don't have the level of control they did before. By getting rid of the things that brought me anxiety, I've created space for the things that bring me joy.
My home and mind are no longer caverns of chaos.
