It had become difficult to find some kind of enjoyment in the things that I did these days. My « fridge -filling » job had become more and more irritating, I had difficulties concentrating on the tasks at hand and got annoyed with pretty much everyone because of anything and everything. My leisure time had become this boring out-of-sync thing, which didn’t feel me up no more. And when I’d come back home, there was no sense of relief from it all. I vegetated on my convertible couch pondering over existential questions from which I got bored out of my head. Life didn’t suck per say, but it felt amazingly bland.

I love books though, and I love learning new things. I had been binging on self-development, and discovering the human potential soon to be mine through books, training courses and online coaching sessions for quite some time now. This way a very “useful” way of spending my time considering that I work towards improving myself. I woke up early, I cut gluten and lactose on most occasions and I had every good intention of hitting the gym every day. Everything should have been going ok for me, right? I thought so too...but I found out it wasn’t.

A few weeks back, I was at the gym with my personal trainer. It’s always a time that I look forward to, the guy being the spark of energy I need to go through stupidly exhausting exercises. I’m all for a healthy lifestyle and swear by my 3 pillars of health but our last session sent me over the edge. After 20 minutes of training, my body couldn’t follow and my mind was going berserk. Why was I doing all of this for? It’s 7: 45 am, I’m in the gym, and I am starting to cry my eyeballs out, literally having a panic attack (just thinking about it makes my eyes go all teary again !) It felt like my mind took over my body and said “Stop! Enough of that shit! What the hell are you doing?”

For what remained of our session, the only thing I could say while attempting abdominal breathing on my gym mat was: « It’s too much, I’ve had enough. I’ve had too much of everything! » I was literally overdosing on stuff, things, ideas, plans, “shoulds” and everything else, and this was bad!

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I felt so overwhelmed by all the stuff I had accumulated around me, knowledge and knick-knacks alike. All those items have attached some kind of forever ongoing list of “todo” along with the “to do to be the best” list just to name a few. All those things, besides serving as a daily reminder of my inadequacy as well as adding to the pressure I was already putting myself under to be the greatest, haven’t done much for me even if I would have liked them too.

The weeks following my breakdown haven't been the smoothest per say. Those felt pretty much like rehab weeks which had me understand better why Amy said: “no, no, no”!!! I needed to sleep so bad, so I did. I threw away my almost healthy lifestyle, waking up later than I have been doing for the past year, but also going to bed earlier as well. I changed my diet for something more flexible which incorporates Ben & Jerry’s at least twice a week. I also turned into a moody bitch at work. For my boss to ask me if I was ok more than twice a day, I must have been pulling quite the face! To be true, I was already pulling faces, so I must have stepped it up quite a bit!

From what felt like tons of books, good habits, paperwork, mantras, shoes, food regimen, beauty products, productivity hacks, linen and other random objects I have been carrying with me over the past 5 years, through 4 to 5 house moves at least, all those things have been slowly drowning me along my journey. I was carrying an overloaded backpack on what’s meant to be a fun hiking journey. I never anticipated this fact, but having too much stuff was actually detrimental to my wellbeing, and I had to do something about it. So I did!

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This rehab phase wasn’t just about real life, it also highlighted up the sadness I felt, more specifically when on social media and how miserable they made me feel overall. The endless hours spent scrolling over the so-called picture-perfect life achievements of others made me feel sick to my stomach. So I did what felt like necessary, I (almost) checked out. I stopped watching the news, and pretty much-watching TV, period. Instead, I spend quality time on Youtube and Spotify on digital TV!

New good habits are being built, one at the time, and no gym for the past 3 months. Rest, recuperation and mental self-care are the priority right now. I also started going through my stuff and letting them go. As the bags of clothes, unwanted furniture and other random things were leaving my space (and still do to this day), I felt lighter and brighter.

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It’s funny how life can bring things back around when you haven’t learned the lesson. The burnout I experienced a few years ago creep back in taking another form. Through the things and thoughts I have accumulated over time, I now realise that I wasn’t really buying things because I needed them, but because I wanted for others to see me and accept me under a particular light.

The environment we live in does shape us, formats us in a way. We are being told that in order to be, we must have. But is this the key to hapiness? Really? By having less but more meaningful things in our lives, wouldn’t we be able to find ourselves somehow?

I am curious to hear about your relationship with your stuff, money and your environment. How do you feel better when you do part of things you own but no longer need? Did you ever feel overwhelmed by owning too much? How do you feel when you coming back home after a week living from your suitcase?

Please leave your thoughts and comments in the box just below. I shall look at them and reply to as many as possible.

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Until next time...

The French Londoner