TW/CW: Suicide

It’s a question I need to consider every time I put off drafting a blog post. Every time I feel like giving up on my writing because I worry about what you think. Yes, I do worry what YOU think. The truth is: Without minimalism, I may not be here today.

I’ve struggled with severe depression, tracing back all the way to age 11. I cried nearly every day. Cut to me, 16 years later, and I’ve made such giant strides. I couldn’t have done it without changing my mindset about the point of living as well as powerful medications and a supportive network of humans.

While my progress has been positive, I have setbacks. 2017 was one of those setbacks.This past October, I had been struggling with medication that simply did the opposite of what it’s supposed to do - and I felt that dying was the only option. That happens a lot with these ‘miracle medications’ - they can be counterproductive and put you in such a deep state of despair that living seems like the worst kind of effort. I was too afraid to act on it, but I did go to the hospital. I told very few of you out of sheer humiliation. I thought friends and family would think I’m ‘over-dramatic’ or ‘crazy’ or ‘attention-seeking.’ When I did tell 2-3 people in my life, I had the opposite reaction. Fun fact: people didn’t throw me aside nor did they dismiss my feelings. They treated my depression as they would a fatal physical disease and wanted to do what they could to help.

In those moments of deep despair, you forget that you have family and chosen family that wants you alive. Luckily, I remembered. I remember I had all of you, and felt like I couldn’t do that if it was under my control. Luckily, it still was. Not everyone is as lucky.

This reminder of the people in my life is a wonderful way to keep moving, but minimalism - in a few different forms - has helped me to put everything in perspective. Here’s what I’ve done and how, maybe, it can help you, too:

• Meditation: Minimizing the weight of your thoughts - has finally clicked as a solution to those days where it feels like if you fuck up at work, your life could be over.
• Extermination: Get rid of the shit that you would be much better off without. Why do I keep those wires that mean absolutely nothing to me? While this may not seem like a way to improve your health and prevent those suicidal thoughts, I swear that if I had kept the pesky non-essential items, my life would have been much more chaotic. I wouldn’t have been able to focus on the meditation. I wouldn’t have been able to get the motivation to say, “It’s going to be okay.” I would have been too weighed-down by the overwhelming idea that my stuff was a futile attempt to fill a void.
  
• Medication*: If possible, try not to over-medicate. Pare down your medication cabinet so you know exactly what’s affecting you and how you feel with or without it. I was too afraid to ask to reduce/eliminate certain medications for a long time because I thought, “What if the next one fails me, too?” I found something. You will find something. You will move forward with feeling like you can comfortably be yourself again.
  

If you have these horrifically painful feelings, please don’t be afraid to talk to someone. I’m always here to listen, but if not me - please seek out someone. Minimalism has been my miracle-worker, but it may not be enough for everyone.

2017 was one of the most difficult years of my life. I may always look back on it as the most sad days, the most politically depressing, the most disheartening when it came to family issues. That’s why I’m jumping head first into New Years’ Resolutions for 2018, like the cliche that I am. That devastation provides a platform for intense growth and pushing out of my comfort zone that I may never have the opportunity to see again. I’m going full force. Starting with this blog post.

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*Please note that I am not a medical professional. The advice I give worked for me, so please consult your doctor before making any big medical changes.

1. Own one Chapstick at a time & finish said Chapstick

2. Sell and/or donate underutilized technology

3. Find a lotion that works for face, hands, and body

4. Choose between Instagram and Snapchat stories

5. Pick one day a month to donate under-utilized items

6. Host a swap meet that everyone talks about (even if ‘everyone’ consists of your dog and my mom)

7. Get your water bottle collection down to one

8. Get rid of your accordion folder & go paperless

9. Don’t store anything under my bed

10. You only need one journal, FFS!

I’ve been a bad minimalist.

The last few months, as I’ve avoided writing and battled with various annoying physical health conditions, I’ve accumulated more than can fit nicely in my 330 square foot apartment. So I turn around and haul off some other useless crap to the nearest Goodwill…until I remember the use for it and think about my need for a better one. Vicious cycles hurt my head and increase my guilt until all I can do when I get home is lie in bed and sigh in exhaustion from my mental roundabouts. Psychology Today said it best: “Clutter is not only a container for our memories, but can be distractor for tackling deeper issues.”

My deeper issues were obvious: seasonal depression awakened my materialistic side so I can fill the emotional hole that was caused by shorter daylight hours. According to the National Institute of Mental Health, “Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) is a depression that starts at the end of autumn and ends when the days get longer at the beginning of spring. It may seem as if these bouts of hypersomnia and hopeless feelings are part of a meaningless phenomenon to contribute to human suffering during the holidays, but the theory is that SAD came about as an evolutionary response “to conserve energy during historically predictable periods of dwindling food supply.” Ironically, today, the winter months have evolved into the time of year where it’s socially acceptable to stuff yourself and buy people tchotchkes they’ll inevitably re-gift next year during a White Elephant gift exchange.

My seasonal depression has made me a bad, sad minimalist. Scarfing caramel popcorn out of a tub the size of my torso and scrolling through the endless Facebook Marketplace listing feed, searching for gently used home decorations to don my walls, hoping that would distract me from the sluggishness the winter months bring. I filled my walls with brightly colored art and smiling photos, but nothing spackled the emotional dent.

A few days into this lethargy, I realized the chemical change and even felt well enough to begin a plan of action to fight it. It was time to devise a minimalist strategy to utilize when a strong case of SAD hit, like an earthquake kit, but for the slow sneak attack of the intense winter blues. Everything in my kit came from items I already owned previously, so no additional clutter. Here are its contents:

• Athletic shoes. Getting outside for a brisk walk or jog can be as therapeutic as soaking in a bubble bath after a long day. I’m one of the physically laziest people I know, but something - anything - boosts the mood even just a little. Add some layers and head outside, even if there’s a biting cold wind.
• Popcorn. Similar to the earthquake kit, I need to be prepared for a time when I have few options for food. In this case, the need comes from the fact that my energy levels have dipped and my trips to the grocery store become a lot less frequent. Popcorn is a great go-to since it’s a complex carb, and complex carbs which are proven to boost your mood. At least I have a biological explanation for why I carbo-load in the winter months.
• Meditation app. Apps like Headspace are a godsend for the anxious. People with noisy minds require time each day to just observe the chaos and hopefully settle it down a bit. A chaotic mind is often a depressed mind, so any meditation app could help just a little every day to build up to stronger mental wellness.

My toolkit has been helping me to boost my mood, but I know it’s not always that easy. The holidays are particularly difficult, especially for people with SAD, so please call a suicide hotline if you’re feeling like it’s too much (1-800-273-8255), and remember all the hope that ringing in the new year can bring, even if it’s just symbolic.

Hot weather travel breeds minimalism. After my recent vacation to Cuba, my bag was lighter, my clothes were tired from reuse, and my shame had deteriorated. Gone was my embarrassment over having a bare face in public. Any hesitation over rewearing clothing three times vanished after the second day of trudging around the cobblestone streets in thick humidity. Adios to being shy about saying “no” to the taxi ride offers and tourist traps.

My friend Tess and I landed in Havana, Cuba with few expectations, and we left with absolutely crazy, unforgettable experiences. We met locals and strengthened our friendship, but we most of all, we faced the fact that travelers to a hot-as-hell island in the Caribbean don’t need that much stuff. Packing smart is much more valuable than packing more. However, I hadn’t learned that lesson before I left for my trip. My overpacking forced me into a rude awakening when I realized the burden of too much stuff.

There are three key ways in which my vacation to Cuba squeezed the minimalism right out of me:

• Pack what fits in a shared car. Shared cars are the main way to get around in Cuba, especially for travelers trying to explore another city (The alternative is the most packed bus you will ever see). Tess, me, and two strangers plopped our stuff in the back of a tiny car (No, it wasn’t old-fashioned) and squished ourselves in the back. There’s no room for extra bags and souvenirs, so just forget it.

• Makeup is pointless. The heat melted my face off within the first half hour of walking outside. One blast of humid wind and I was bare-faced. Makeup and hair products serve no purpose in those tropical climates, so ditch the makeup if you’re going somewhere where sweat will pour out of you like a squeezed sponge.

• Bring gross shoes. I brought an old pair of tennis shoes with holes in the inside so I wouldn’t feel bad if they became destroyed. Spoiler: they did. After trudging across a countryside trail to see how true Cuban hand-crafted coffee is made, my tennis shoes completely changed color from the red clay, dirt, and most likely manure from the multitude of farm animals that shared our hike. While packing for home, I ran across the street to a nearby hotel to ask for a trash can large enough to toss my clay-caked shoes. With a disgusted look, the hotel concierge complied.

I’ve learned my lesson, and I want to pass it on. Bring nothing but the essentials, re-wear everything three times at least, and ditch the mascara, unless you’re into the Gene Simmons face paint look. Less stuff means fewer choices, so you can focus on the important decisions, like what you want to do and see. Have safe and minimalist travels this summer.

After conquering the vacant shelf challenge, I’m now going to take some time to reflect on what aspects of my apartment need some serious minimalist love. My inner critic feasts on the idea of cutting me down because of my hodgepodge of costume pieces, loose hangers, and yoga accessories that stick out every which way to the point where sometimes my closet doesn’t shut like it should. Boxes can’t contain the years of nicknacks I’ve accumulated much longer, so it’s time to take some sort of step forward.

It’s been quite the crazy week, so I don’t necessarily have time to go through my entire closet, sleep, work, socialize, watch the Game of Thrones trailer, shower, cook, watch the Game of Thrones trailer in show motion, and eat acaí bowls - all in a week! Millennials are busy!

I settled for a quick scan of my closet shelf as my decluttering therapy of the week. The one thing I could do for my minimalistic lifestyle this week was identify and toss things I like to call “Have We Met?” items, or HWMs. HWMs are the little adapters, wires, or plastic dish-shaped apparatuses that you had originally thrown in the bottom corner of boxes and junk drawers because you had absolutely no idea how to categorize them. Now, months or even years later, you find those items buried under old batteries you don’t know what to do with or rubber bands that you swear will be useful but go untouched. You pick them up. You examine them. You wonder what their purpose is. You question how they ended up in your house. You scan the heavens for answers, only to find that you feel even more lost than before. You place it back where you found it as to not upset the gods of unnecessary objects.

I’ve been there. I’ve had my fair share of HWMs sprinkled throughout my various homes. This time, I decided to do what I should have done originally: throw them out. I will never know what they are for. I will never care what they do. If I ever need some sort of accessory part for an appliance or electronic, chances are I wouldn’t even know what it looks like or where to look for it in the first place, and I’d end up ordering the piece online. Therefore, HWMs are dead to me.

I do admit, I kept a few of them. They remind me of a simpler time, when I truly believed I’d be resourceful enough to use that attachment for my vacuum cleaner. I’ve now come to accept myself for who I am: Too lazy to change the default settings.