I just made tentative arrangements with a bookstore to take a van load of my old stock.
I think this will take about 1/2 (?) of the remaining books & stuff in the storage unit? I have 2 boxes + I’m giving to a local bookstore, tomorrow. But the storage still has boxes loaded 10 high I think…
On one hand, I’m thinking —
“YAY!!! I can finally move on!” And on the other? I just want to have a really good, long weep.
Books were my salvation, my only reliable sanctuary. They didn’t change, and almost everything else did or wasn’t trustworthy, because my Abuser had removed that certainty: family, friends, God, the neighbors, my schools, even where I lived.
I was in a weird situation: eating prime beef in a ritzy neighborhood, thinking I was damned and going to be thrown out at any time. Being beaten in some ways would have been easier. Broken bones show and heal — a broken spirit not so much.
But books? The books were always the same. The good guys were always good; the bad guys were always bad. And the sort of stories I read? The good guys always won, because I desperately needed to believe that I could win. (Doesn’t everyone see themselves as a good guy?)
So. A milestone. It will get done. But I may cry myself to sleep or cry in my sleep for a while yet too.