#30 our living environment

“Our minds, our bodies and the spaces we live in are all related. Our inner space and our peace of mind are affected by our outer space.” – Thich Nhat Hanh

Hello my lovelies,

Welcome back! 30 posts, wow. Today I wanted to talk about something I have always taken seriously, my living environment, my home and my space. The reason why is because our living environment, to me, is a reflection of our wellbeing, or illbeing. So, I would like to talk about the significance of my living environment, how it impacts my health and what I love about it, but also how I have changed over the years in relation to it all.

I know it probably sounds silly. Surely it can’t be that important to people? many ask. Whilst the question is valid, this can be a serious topic for many. When someone is experiencing severe depression, their living spaces may not be as clean and tidy as they want it to be, or in my case when I am depressed, it is overly clean (I will explain more in a couple of paragraphs). Living spaces impact health by acting as a physical representation of how we see ourselves, how we are feeling.

It is so important due to how we arrange things, how we show our personality and what we dedicate certain parts of our own home. Homes are where we can truly be ourselves, to express whatever we please, where we are to relax, or work. It is where we feel truly safe.

In my own home I am impacted by clutter, little bits on the floor, and need some semblance of tidiness overall to feel clear in mind and physically clean. My clean and tidy house, means I am clean and tidy (for the most part).

As a child to teenager I shared a room with either my sister or sibling, I didn’t feel like I had my own space really. After my panic attacks and disordered eating started I would spend a lot more time in my room especially from 15 years old because I did not feel safe anywhere else. When stressed I would reorganise and clean until I was sore and rearrange everything again until I was exhausted. This continued to get worse over the years, I struggled so much in not having clutter. I was recycling book after book and clothing item by clothing item, fitting my whole life into one space. We moved around town so many times as a child that I developed ‘maximal minimalism’: fitting all my belongings as a child into a couple of boxes and a bin bag or two of clothes. When I was due to move out my bedroom had started filling up – I was ready to go.

When I first moved in and despite all my things, the home felt empty but I loved it. I had a whole house to myself! Then my fiancé moved in and I slowly got used to having more bits of things around. Clutter still stresses me out and when I clean I try to spread it out especially considering I don’t physically have it in me to do marathons of it now. My cleanliness is now a key sign for my fiancé to know when I am unwell by how much housework I do and the timing of it. Late at night? Unwell. Urge in the dawn? Unwell. Wanting to do all of it in a hyped state? Unwell. We have our own little corners of the house and it is wonderful we each respect the other’s space. Little by little, my necessity of cleanliness to showroom standards has dwindled and I love being that bit more laidback, I won’t lie.