I don’t usually wait until Jan. 8 to take the tree down. My family has a tradition of leaving the tree up until New Year’s Day and taking it down as we watch the bowl games.
I didn’t have a chance to do that on New Year’s Day, so my goal was to get it down on Saturday. That goal got wiped out as soon as I found myself nursing a huge battle wound. I needed something pretty to look at through my tears.
Saturday turned into Sunday, which turned into Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, and there I was sitting on the couch Thursday morning trying to urge myself to get up and start removing the ornaments. After a pep talk from a friend, I decided it was time to get the house back in order, which meant cleaning the kitchen, picking up the clothes that were littering pretty much the whole upstairs and finally taking down the tree.
I have a hard enough time letting go of a Christmas tree. I can accept that the holiday is past. I have no problem taking down the outdoor lights. But there’s something about getting rid of the tree — I know my living room is going to feel a whole lot more empty and smell a whole lot more like dog as soon as the tree is gone.
Add to that the pain of getting rid of what had been a source of comfort in the past few days. It was bright and shiny, decked with ornaments from my childhood that made me think of nothing but happiness.
Of course he helped me buy the tree and string the lights and hang the ornaments.
As I took down, one by one, each ornament, each breath of mine felt heavier and my head got lighter. I could feel the panic setting in. It was like the gravity of it all was going to pull my heart and lungs into my stomach.
I sat down, took some deep breaths, checked my e-mail, talked to my mom online and then pushed through it — quickly ripping down the garland, the lights, the star.
Actually disposing of the tree was a whole other issue. Every year that I’ve had one, he’s been around with his pick-up truck, and we’ve just tossed it in the back and hauled it to the nearest tree collection site. I’m sure I could have found someone to help me haul it, but at that point I was running up to a deadline of having to show up to work, so it was too late to call. I just didn’t think about it. I’m not in the habit yet of thinking about these things.
So I shoved it in the trunk of my little Mazda and drove it ever so slowly across town to the tree recycling site. I pitched it onto the pile and sort of tapped it on its trunk as if to wish it well.
Getting rid of the tree meant bidding farewell to a holiday season which was filled with so much happiness but brought one of the most painful shocks of my life. Sure, I want to get past that but it just seemed like one more harsh reminder that it’s over. It’s actually over. Not the holiday, but us.
I’ve been working on getting rid of him from my world, but I haven’t made it very far. Immediately after I last spoke to him, I shoved every picture I’d had displayed of him and I in a box in the deepest corner of a closet. I broke up with him on Facebook. I hid a stuffed Sully monster he gave me for Christmas a few years ago — the one with a one-eyed snowman on his sweater.
I haven’t touched the Wii since that day, but as soon as I do I’m deleting his Mii. It looks too hauntingly like him to keep. I need to rearrange my cell phone speed dials. I’ve pressed No. 3 so many times, there’s a chance I might do it automatically if I think of something that needs to be shared with a friend. I know there are some personal items of his hiding in my closet and bathroom, but I haven’t had the courage to look for them. There’s also that key of his on my key ring …
I’m not trying to hang on to him, really I’m not. It’s just that every one of these things that needs to be done stirs a whole other pot of memories, both good and bad, and brings a fresh wave of pain. And lord knows, I already have plenty to go around.
Honey, you need to give yourself some time. Don’t feel like you have to do everything at once or you will never get over him.
If you feel like sorting his stuff out, do it, but only if you feel like it.
Even if you wipe him out of your apartment you won’t wipe him out of your head so you need to be sensible about it all
L x
Take your time with this. You can’t do it all at once, it would hurt too much. And when you do decide to look for that stuff to get rid of, enlist a friend. Someone to do the actual rooting around and carrying of the box of stuff, so you can avoid it as much as possible. Friends are your greatest ally right now- don’t be afraid to use them.
Why must there really be so much involved in a breakup?
LizSara is right — this is going to take time, and you can’t do it all at once.
If I were in your situation, I’d probably go on a cleaning frenzy — doing something physical, something symbolic and something positive all at once.
I like to keep my tree up until my birthday, which always meant missing the designated recycling date when I lived in the city.
And might I make a suggestion of moving him from spot number 3 to someone else? I did the cathartic “full delete” from my phone after a break-up, and then unwittingly answered it when he called, because I didn’t recognize the number.
I broke up with a friend a while back, and changed her name in my phone to “do not answer.”
What you’re going through now is the hardest part, I think — rearranging your life so he’s not in it anymore. It’s tough, and I’m sorry you’re going through it. But I agree with the other commenters that you should take your time and do these things as they come naturally. Eventually it will all be OK, I promise.
I agree with the ladies above that you need to give yourself some time. Rome wasn’t built in a day and it takes a heart a long time to heal.
Do what you can and forgive yourself the rest – those things of his will be gone soon enough.
Remember whatever is right for you is what it right!
i agree it's a process. you can't force it. it just has to come naturally. You'll put everything away, you'll rearrange your speed dials but not everything needs to get done today. Just take it one step at a time…<3
If you need a pickup truck for anything else, just drop me a line.