Earlier this year, I outlined my goals. One thing was very clear: I was set out to spend a whole chunk of my time dealing with house renovations. It is now June, and we are in the thick of it. In two weeks’ time, my room will be properly set-up.
I say “my room”, not “the Master’s bedroom”. Simply because my husband and I will not sleep in the same bedroom. This is due to health issues: physical health issues (his) and mental health issues (mine). It’s a little bit embarrassing, because of social conventions to say this, but I’m at peace with this joint decision of ours. Like our love story, it is quite unconventional, but it works for us. I jokingly say that the key to good marital relationship is separate bathrooms. That way, nobody’s going to gripe about wet toilet seats and toothpaste on the sink. Blech!
Having my own room is symbolic of what I am going through recently, as a middle-age woman. A few days ago, I turned 42 years old. Unlike the birthdays of years past, I did not buy food items I don’t need, nor did I but another mug, kitchen gadget, or minor kitchen appliance. Instead, I spent a meaningful day with my core family: my husband and two kids. I stayed away from things that deplete me. To me that meant not having a birthday party, not letting people know it’s my birthday, and not getting myself (food-related) gifts. Again, quite unconventional, but it works for me.
I’ve been working on authenticity, living a life that corresponds to who I really am, as opposed to who I am supposed to be.
As far as the renovations go, it’s been a long, hard road. And there is still a long way to go. After I move in to my room, the next phases of the renovation will continue. When it is complete, my kids will have their own rooms, and my husband will have his man-cave, where all his Lego and art shall live.
This means that my room will be the command center of my life—and how I will choose to live it from that point on.
I’m decluttering. I’m going to declutter, and along with this massive material decluttering, I realize that I’m also undergoing the process of Deep Decluttering. This is a process of elimination of all the things I do, all the thoughts I believe, that no longer serve me. It is time to let these useless things go, so I can be free. I need to be rid of them or I will never be free to pursue the me that I truly am. Authenticity—it’s a longer, harder road than physical renovations. But I have to do it now. Now or never.
It is scary.
I’ve held on to a lot of my false beliefs. I’m very comfortable with them. Maybe you have a fantasy, ideal self, fantasy, ideal life too? This is the you you thought you were, but never really was, and never would ever be.
Perhaps you’ve been staring at that deadline too, procrastinating with every sngle fiber of your being like me. Perhaps, you’ve been creeping away from these shoulds, and no matter how compelling shoulds are, you can’t make yourself do it.
I found out that I’ve been crawling away from psychology. Specifically, from my formal title of Registered Psychologist (R. Psy.). I can describe it as a nucleus, a central idea. It’s my fantasy life, my ideal self. This is the me as Clinical Psychologist. I have this official title, but I can’t do it justice. I no longer practice as a therapist; I no longer do anything in the clinical sense.
Every time I think of CPD (Continuing Professional Development) points I need to earn to renew the psychologist license, I shirk. My actions are saying, “I don’t want to do it!” My body’s screaming, “No!” I’m saying that, now, I’m listening, I’ve finally heard what my authentic self is saying.
I don’t want to renew my license. I think and feel like that doing so will hold me back.
I think and feel that it’s high time to discard that fantasy, ideal self. It’s time to do Deep Decluttering to my career life, and not just my physical belongings.
But who the hell am I if I discard the fantasy of being a big-shot, renown Clinical Psychologist? I am… I don’t know yet. I still have to figure it out.
Again, it’s scary. I’m batshit scared.
For a person like me, not know what I to do career-wise five years from now provokes a whole lot of anxiety. It’s might be exciting to some of you, but that’s not the case with me. Being a Registered Psychologist sort of gave me a career path to follow. There was a structure, creating this feeling of security. I realize that it is this structure that I’ve been holding on to. I’m so hesitant to say goodbye to it even if it’s not the path for me. Nanjan na e. Just keep on walking down that path. Even if this is a path leads me further and further away from the light; even if it’s a path that looks so dark and foreboding. Keep on walking that path to self-destruction, nanjan na e, sayang naman.
I feel insecure and inadequate because I don’t want to renew my license. I feel like I can’t do without it. “Nanjan na e, sayang naman”. Let’s unpack this belief. In English, these words mean, “It’s already there, don’t waste it.” Meaning, you worked so hard to achieve it, why don’t you keep it? Indeed, why do you keep things that you’ve surrounded yourself with but no longer serve you? Why hold on to them? Because there is a fear that if you let go of them, maybe someday you will need them, and then you will regret you decision to let go of them. This is the genesis of the hoarder mindset.
Keep holding on to it, even if it doesn’t work anymore. Keep on holding on to it, even if because of all the space it’s taking up in your life, you have no more space to live. You can’t breathe, you don’t have energy to do things. Hold on to these old, broken, mismatched pieces, and you can’t have a new life, new experiences. You can’t be free. You see, with this official title, I’m not free.
I need to be free now. Declutter, deep declutter, Melany. If I can discard all these useless material stuffs, why can’t I do the same with the R.Psy.? The reasons are the same:
What if I need it again one day? What if, what if, what if?
Nanjan na e, sayang naman.
Do I know what the future holds? Does anybody know what the future holds?
If I don’t and you don’t know what the future holds, then why do I need to cower with the fear? Is it out of a deep sense of inadequacy?
If I hold on to this safety net, it will be the death of me. It’s not a safety net, it’s a trap net. And I am being held back from living the life that I need to live, the life that is right in front of me.
My career, my job, is not anything grand. It is not as glamorous as yours, but it is what I have. It is who I am and what I have built. I made it from ruins of me when I decided to dedicate ten years of my most productive work-life to raising two young kids. I don’t regret the sacrifice.
Being an R. Psy was my safety net, much like food hoarding. I notice that I hoard degrees too, so the immediate danger after this is to replace it with yet another title. But oh, no. Melany has learned.
With things as with degrees/titles/certificates—If I don’t use it, I won’t have it. It’s clutter: material clutter, mental clutter. Clutter will hold me back from growth, exploration, pain.
If, in the future I would need it (the stuff, the title, the license), I have to deal with the consequences of having thrown it away.
I’ll know what to do when I get there. I usually do. That’s my strong suit.
Perhaps, the best advice I heard was from my nine-year-old daughter. One night, I asked her in an age-appropriate way what she would do if she was in my predicament. Her reply is lucid beyond her years:
“Just take the part of it that you love the most, and then give the rest away.”
Indeed. That’s profound.
I’m Deep Decluttering my career. The definitive step I take now will define me as a productive member of society for the remaining years I have on earth. Yes, I would like to be somebody who contributes something unique to the world, so when it is time for me to die, I can say I did enough. My life was not pointless, I won’t be easily forgotten.
I’m not a psychologist anymore. I stopped being one a long time ago. It’s time to be honest about it. It’s time to be authentic. It’s time to forgive myself. It’s time to accept myself for who I am. It’s time to admit that there are things I can’t and won’t do.
However, I can still take something out of the whole licensed psychologist experience. I can be a Writer-HR Practitioner. I can be that writer who’s conversant with the deep end of psychology.
I think that’s good enough—I am going to be enough.
