A certain mood strikes me on a regular basis. I start scanning the house for things I no longer want. I check my closet for a nubby sweater or the basement for a dusty decoration. I put it in the Goodwill closet.

Giving it away feels good. Not the “giving” part, but the “away” part. Proving my detachment. If I can choose to relieve myself of things I am attached to now, perhaps that will ease the transition when something is ripped from my hands. Something or someone.

Perhaps.

I have a policy about how much clothing I can own. When I look at something I want to purchase, there must be a hanger or dresser space available to store that piece of clothing. Buying more hangers or a bigger dresser is not an option. This policy has proven useful during end of season sales and occasional online shopping sprees.

This is a sound practice because I’m not accumulating. I’m replacing.

Perhaps.

This is what I do: I go to Goodwill. Unload my shit. I’m so close to Target that I might as well drive two blocks and burden myself with some new shit.

I’ve repeated this cycle many times. The “certain mood” is not about detachment or preparation for future loss. It’s about a shinier, happier version of something, sitting on a store shelf and calling my name. I ask What Do You Want to Get Rid of? when the true intention is What Do You Want to Get?

I buried my knowledge of this cycle so deep. I almost didn’t find it, almost didn’t admit it to myself or to you. I’m even mad at me for lying to me.

This post was inspired by Writing 101’s Building a Blogging Habit assignment: Serial Killer.