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In my new English book “Voices Off”, I dedicate a chapter to talking about my struggles with tidying up and throwing things out. I wrote the book while I was still living with my parents.

Today, I live independently in my own flat. I have done so since September ’21. This was by no means something that just happened naturally. I was very fortunate to be in a good place in my recovery, so I could handle the process of moving. We took it very slowly so I wasn’t under undue stress. And, despite my practical skills being a long way from stellar, I have so far managed to stay on top of my daily chores and housework.

There have been days in January – weeks – where I’ve just prayed to myself nobody turned up uninvited (i.e., it was messy!). February, too. But I always manage to get my act together eventually. And I take pride in looking after my own space.

It wasn’t always like that.

I used to struggle hugely with keeping my room tidy. It seemed like a massive, insurmountable task. And maybe it was. I had so much stuff – not helped by the fact I was terrible at throwing out. I really, truly couldn’t do it.

Why not? Because it was painful. And it seemed stupid. I didn’t want to throw anything out because I knew I might need it later. It’s often the case. Say you’ve never used that measuring tape, so you decide to finally throw it out. Two weeks later you’re online shopping and need to take your measurements – bam, what do you need? Your measuring tape! This may not be the best example as it’s generally handy to have a measuring tape (and it’s not the largest item to keep), but I hope you get my point.

So, out of fear of regretting it later, I held on to stuff. I also wasn’t as far in my recovery, so my brain wasn’t in the right zone for “huge” tasks. I would motivate myself to work on a bit of my room – e.g., my chest of drawers (which was full of stuff) – only to space out after five minutes and stop. I couldn’t move forward with it. I am not by nature a slow person, so it exasperated me, but I also felt powerless. I would stop because I didn’t know where to start. Because I couldn’t bring myself to throw any of it out. Because I found my ambivalence too difficult to deal with. And, sometimes, I just stopped because I was exhausted, and went to sleep (surrounded by stuff).

I kept trying. I kept that hope that this COULD and WOULD change. It took many monumental efforts to start feeling and seeing a little difference. I eventually cleared my chest of drawers. Got rid of half a bin bag’s worth of stuff. Discarded drawings (not “good” ones), old birthday cards, a bunch of magazines, random paper clips, receipts … all stuff I knew I was never going to need again. It was difficult, and with some more sentimental stuff, I sometimes changed my mind at the last minute … but, the next time I targeted an area of my room, I managed to fill more than half a bin bag. So that, to me, signified progress. And with that, my “hope-metre” rose a little.

And then we moved house.

For me, the impending move suddenly meant I had a rock-solid reason to throw things out. A fresh start.

To not end up swamped with cardboard removal boxes in our new house, my mum and I went to our local Shurgard (a self-storage warehouse) and signed me up for a storage unit. This way I could transfer everything I didn’t need immediately to a secure space – billed monthly – and sort through it in my own time.

It worked. Inspired by the prospect of a new adventure, comforted by not having to deal with it all straightaway, and motivated by the fact I was paying for my storage unit (it was a fair price, but still money I could be using on other things), I started tackling the massive, insurmountable task. Once we’d moved, I regularly went out to Shurgard – with my mum – to sift through my old ceramics works, endless childhood books, magazines, things of sentimental value, tennis racquets, schoolbooks, old notebooks, folders full of old artworks, ornaments I’d gathered throughout the years and much more. My storage unit was full in 2020 (before we moved) and, by the end of the summer in 2022, I had cleared it.

Apart from a couple of boxes of books that I know I want to keep (but currently don’t have room for in my apartment), everything was sorted. I reckon 2/3 of it went out. Mostly taken to the dump – my mum drove there and back several times, the car packed full each time. We moved the boxes of books to her storage unit, and I could subsequently go to the reception desk with a smile on my face and terminate my contract.

No more money “out the window” every month. No more clutter. No more weight of too – much – stuff! It was a good feeling.

I finally felt like I was on my way to not feeling ashamed of my own space. I’d previously felt embarrassed inviting friends over; it didn’t stop me, but I was constantly self-conscious about my inability to have a “nice” room. When I didn’t have friends over, the mess could be appalling. It looked like an explosion in a knick-knack factory next to a bookshop and an office … there were decorations, books and paper everywhere, and plastic boxes full of stuff I’d never looked at for years. I hated it. Absolutely hated it. But I couldn’t bring myself to do anything about it.

I was likely suffering from avolition – a symptom of schizophrenia which can be described as low motivation, but is a little more complex than that. Specifically, it means you want to achieve a goal, you know what’s required to achieve the goal, but you cannot motivate yourself to do it – no matter the consequences. I.e., you could have a “carrot” (a positive outcome of achieving a goal) or a “stick” (a negative outcome of not achieving a goal), yet still not act. Nobody wants to be fired from their job, and everybody loves a reward for good effort, but imagine if you can’t get yourself to take the necessary steps to pay your bills, lose weight, or even just make your bed in the morning. Imagine how out of control this could become. A snowball effect with the potential to negatively affect every area of your life.

… Well, darkness aside, and to get back to the subject of this post: I had avolition, and it was unbearable to deal with. I wanted to achieve so many things, but had no “drive” to get those things – including a tidy room.

I think I’ve trained myself to become more structured.

I say this because I also struggled terribly with isolating myself. I would never leave the house – literally, never. Social anxiety and low confidence meant that I found it too stressful. I relied heavily on my parents. I wouldn’t even consider going for a walk in my neighbourhood – and as for supermarkets or shops? Forget it! Way too stressful.

The world was a daunting, unpredictable place (in my mind) back then.

However, those of you who follow me on Instagram may have noticed my many “walk photos”. Photos I’ve taken on walks. In my neighbourhood. Outside.

I actually leave my flat these days. I often go to the supermarket. I sometimes go shopping in town (when I can afford it, that is). I’m living a relatively normal life. And I like to think that, knowing my history, this is a tremendous victory.

And now, I’d like to share my tips with you.

If you’re struggling with clutter, here are things you can do to help yourself “slay the beast”:

1. Take photos.

When you’re struggling to throw something out that you know you’re never going to use/wear/look at again, ease the process by taking a photo of it on your phone and keep it there for a while. When you start to find it easier to throw out, just keep taking photos – of every item you are considering.

That’s how I felt “in control”, while still getting rid of stuff.

2. Delay.

For a week/month/set amount of time. Again, when there’s something you know you should throw out because you’re never going to use it, but you’re still finding it too hard, set yourself a time where you have to decide – that way you give yourself a little “breathing space” before getting rid of it. If you don’t look at it within that time and still know you’ll never use it, it should probably go out.

3. Easiest stuff first.

Deal with the “easier” stuff first. Disposable water bottles, plastic bags, clothes with stains or holes in them, thing that don’t have sentimental value. Whatever “easy” means to you, tackle those groups first. Do the things you find most difficult last – that way, you’ll train yourself until you feel more able to deal with the “difficult” stuff.

4. Sort into piles.

Keep – charity – bin. By sorting your belongings methodically into piles according to what you want to do with them, this can help you see how much you’re holding on to that you don’t actually need.

5. Reflect.

I eventually realised that – philosophically – holding onto the old stuff didn’t allow me space for all the good new stuff. Not just physical things, but in life generally.

However, do still be patient with yourself – it takes time and effort.

Oh, and one more thing – what others can do for a loved one who’s struggling with clutter:

1. Don’t throw out for them (i.e., without them agreeing to it).

This often just causes immense stress and sets them back in their progress.

So, that’s my advice. I am not a psychiatrist nor an expert. But I hope that, perhaps, this post could reach people who may find my personal experiences useful.

Now I’m off to sort my wardrobe.

Hvad fylder hos dig for tiden?

Jeg har tænkt på mange ting.

Hvor langt, jeg er kommet …

… alt det, jeg stadig kæmper med.

Det er som om, at sociale evner og kommaregler fylder mindre, end de har gjort. Og at jeg er ved at finde vej ud af en labyrint, hvor jeg har været fanget i årevis.

Noget af det, der har været allersværest for mig (ud over stemmerne og mine andre symptomer), har været at affinde mig med, at jeg ikke kan de samme ting, som mine jævnaldrende kan.

Jeg kan ikke være social ret længe, før jeg bliver overvældet og må tage en pause. Ofte på flere dage (eller endnu længere, afhængigt af ”typen” af social interaktion) – altså slet ikke i nærheden af, hvad ”raske” jævnaldrende kan. Og heller ikke nok til at opfylde mine egne sociale behov.

Min hverdag er også meget anderledes fra en typisk ”rask” hverdag. Jeg kan slet ikke håndtere omskiftelighed, spontanitet, aflyste planer, pludseligt oprettede planer … generelt lever jeg meget beskyttet og begrænset i min ”boble”, hvor jeg kender min simple hverdag og ikke laver de store udskejelser fra den.

Min hverdag? Sove. Hvile mig. Gå tur. Gennemføre mine daglige rutiner. Købe lidt ind. Gøre lidt rent. Vaske tøj. Passe min elskede lejlighed. Og selvfølgelig sørge for at få lidt at spise indimellem.

For ”normale” mennesker ville min hverdag nok føles helt ekstremt kedelig. Men den passer til mig, hvor jeg er nu. Det er det, jeg kan overskue.

Inden jeg blev syg, passede jeg gymnasiet, lektierne, afleveringerne, det sociale, fredagsbarerne, festerne, festudvalget, skoleavisen, deltidsjobbet, veninderne, spillede lidt tennis, var politisk aktiv, tog på Roskilde Festival (hvor jeg i øvrigt også arbejdede flere vagter for mit armbånd) … såh, det har været en omvæltning at skulle vænne sig til en ny hverdag. En hverdag, hvor jeg hverken er blevet stimuleret intellektuelt, socialt eller oplevelsesmæssigt på samme niveau som før.

Det har været nødvendigt. Min hjerne kan ikke længere bearbejde så meget aktivitet. Jeg har skulle fokusere på min recovery. Tage en dag ad gangen. Ikke udsætte mig selv for stress. Og jeg kan stadig mærke, hvordan min sygdom påvirker mig, selv her 12 år efter, jeg gik ned med flaget.

Jeg kan ikke følge instruktioner – for jeg kan ikke huske (på grund af sygdommens virkning på min kognition), hvad jeg har fået at vide, et halvt minut efter at have fået instruktionen. Sådan var det også i skolen op til min sygdomsperiode – jeg kunne ikke bearbejde, hvad læreren sagde, og måtte næsten altid spørge mine klassekammerater, hvad vi havde fået til opgave.

Den går ikke på en arbejdsplads i dagens samfund, hvor opgaverne skal laves effektivt uden for mange dikkedarer.

Jeg kunne fyre en masse andre ting af, som jeg ikke længere kan, men jeg vil egentlig ikke tale mig selv ned … der er jo også meget, jeg stadig kan. Jeg har bare brug for, at ”rammerne” – altså min rolige, ”kedelige” hverdag – er i orden. Så kan jeg udfordre mig selv lidt og træde en smule uden for min komfortzone, når jeg har ”plads i hovedet” til det.

Det ændrer ikke på, at det har været en smertefuld proces at vænne mig til, at jeg ikke ”får lov” til at bruge min hjerne … at jeg ikke kan gøre bedre brug af den IQ, jeg er blevet tildelt. Mange gange i mit recoveryforløb har jeg hungret efter stimulation og den spænding, jeg får af at løse udfordringer … men samtidig kæmpet med at læse en bog færdig, som jeg slugte på rekordtid, da jeg var barn.

Det har været, hvis vi skal være lidt dramatiske, den rene tortur.

Med daglige stemmer i hovedet.

Og jeg er slet ikke kommet ind på, hvordan det (socialt) føles at have en drive som en Border Collie – på et lille indhegnet område.

Men nu har jeg ikke mere at tilføje. Stay tuned for næste indlæg!

What ten songs would you pick for the soundtrack of your life?

I’m in a music mood, so here are mine!

1.

Aly & AJ – Walking On Sunshine

The ultimate happy song. I love it. It perfectly captures that feeling of elation and excitement for the future. (I know Katrina and the Waves did the original, but Aly & AJ’s is the version I remember from my childhood.)

2.

Avril Lavigne – Nobody’s Fool

The whole first verse is my favourite. The musical form of “Do no harm, take no s**t”. My first “artist album” was Let Go by Avril, who I just thought was the coolest person ever. She expressed feelings and experiences I didn’t even know I had yet, while remaining cool and edgy in her style. To little Georgia, for whom the world was pink and fluffy, Avril was an awesome mix of sensitive, trendy, and insanely talented. Still is.

3.

Coldplay – Talk

Where life is changeable, music is constant. When life is cruel and chaotic, music stays the same – it’s always right there where you left it and there’s no risk of it ever leaving. When things seem too much to bear, Coldplay understands. I felt like everyone was talking to me in a language I didn’t speak, and this song got me through the toughest times I never wish to revisit. Plus, it reminds me of my best friend, who listened to “Talk” with me on a school trip to Prague.

4.

Linkin Park – Numb

For a pop addict like me, Linkin Park was positively hardcore. I really enjoy watching music videos, and this one spoke to me on some level when I was struggling. Quiet, arty girl who’s being bullied at school? Ticks all the boxes. Thank you, and rest in peace, Chester Bennington.

5.

Madison Beer – Stained Glass

I think the lyrics are really clever in this one. It’s all about sensitivity and how harsh words can damage us, but with layered metaphors centred around the fragility, colours and fractures of “stained glass”. I went to see Madison Beer in concert and enjoyed every minute – unless you’re a staunch metalhead (and if you haven’t already), give her music a listen.

6.

Natasha Bedingfield – These Words

Whew … that got deep! So, here’s an upbeat, fun song that brilliantly describes the struggle of the writer. I listened to it a lot in my childhood.

7.

Nickelback – Savin’ Me

I have yet to watch a music video that I’ve found as interesting as this one. Clever, well-executed, and sad (I wouldn’t recommend watching it if you’ve just lost a loved one), its concept is just … well, clever. Thought-provoking and original. I do love the lyrics too.

8.

Robbie Williams – Feel

This song reminds me to live up to my full potential. Don’t let all the life running through your veins go to waste …

9.

Sia – Elastic Heart

Again, the music video is a masterpiece, but I also listened to this song on repeat for a long time to get me through a dip in my health. Sia powerfully captures the essence of “you won’t f***ing break me” in 4 minutes and 16 seconds. It’s strong, relatable, vulnerable and moving, all in one little song. Have you listened to it?

10.

Spice Girls – Viva Forever

Okay, another music video that I LOVE! Growing up in London, with the Spice Girls as a big part of a little blue-eyed girl’s everyday life, I HAD to have them on the list. This is my favourite song by them, and brings back all the feels and memories of childhood.

So … which Spice Girl were you? I was Baby 👱🏻‍♀️

11.

Taylor Swift – Love Story

No Georgia playlist would be complete without T-Swizzle, so of course, I had to pick the first one I ever listened to, Love Story. It’s been a love story about her music ever since 😉

Did my (eleven) choices surprise you? What would yours be?

Sometimes, in life, the hand you’re dealt is mightily unfair
Could write a trilogy of books and still have prose to spare
How could the higher power be so merciless to me?
I’ve always seen myself as good; I wouldn’t hurt a flea
Zoning out is how it started—my mind would disappear
Overrun by voices, the kind that only I could hear
Paranoia creeping in and making life chaotic
How was I to know that this was called being psychotic?
Rightly, I soon was sectioned to a psychiatric ward
Each day a mix of medicine, care and feeling rather bored
Now, it’s been almost nine years since my time in that safe space
I’m further, strong and happier; the problems that I face
Are by no means easier, I’ve just learned to get better …
… and if you’d like to know my fight, read each line’s first letter.