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I got a notice from Google Photos that I was reaching my storage limit. Holy cow, THANK YOU, Google for one of the most freeing days I have had! Sorting through things and tossing things out is always wonderful therapy, but this was a step up.
I started with the intention to only clear out duplicate photos, blurred photos, and the hundreds of pics the kids took when they first discovered how to use the camera on my phone. But then I decided to erase aaaaaallll of the restaurant pics. Every pic and post image came with the powerlessness that I felt every damn day that restaurant was open and I was not allowed to have a voice about the huge mess it was. Delete, delete, delete.
Then, I started taking note of the zillions of well-crafted photos there were of Mister with the kids. Geesh. Every one of them rang so damn false my head wanted to explode. Spend 1% of your time with your kids and somehow show up as the “loving” father in a boatload of pics. They were all so flipping contrived. I found an easy fix for that. Delete, delete, delete. Ho! Ho!
And then things started getting really juicy. I got to pics of our wedding day. I felt alllllll the bad feels from that day. (Why was I there? A tale for another day, I promise). So much yuck right down to the disgusting humans that served as our witnesses. Not even a second of hesitation. Delete, delete, delete.
Looking over the other pictures where I appeared (I guess here, being with a narcissist paid off because there were very few pics of me) my stomach churned. I didn’t see myself in the moment of the pic but saw the moments just before the pic. Saw the emotional abuse and mindfuckery that had been going on. See ya! Delete, delete, delete.
I ended with the only part that made me hesitate a bit. Over the past year and a half, I had discovered video. I used it for two purposes. One was to record ideas and breakthroughs, many of which were shared with groups that led me to that space. The others I call my “up and out” videos.
When I was walking to the store or I snuck into a corner of the patio, I’d hit record and vomit up the hell of the day. The absolute mindfuckery that no one will ever grasp the extent of.
As I call them “up and out” the idea is that I get it up and then let it go. So why would I hesitate to let go of them? Oooohhhh. I think it was this need to be heard. To be understood. It was this fantasy of one day some unknown person hearing all that I went through.
I really didn’t want those videos clogging up my memory (google memory of my brain and body cells) and so I decided to delete. There was no way I could stomach going through them to find my growth videos so, the decision was made. Delete, delete, delete.
Even the last bit felt great. I think I was almost clinging on to those first breakthrough videos I made almost like when you hold onto your last dollars. Like what if you don’t get more? If that is it? So by letting them go, I feel like it allows for more growth to come.