This is a genuine problem that I would like to share with my fellow sotonians. I would very much welcome their advice.
Mrs Stickman and I are in the process of moving house, and because of a fairly unusual set of circumstances we are taking this opportunity to sell the vast majority of our furniture etc. I’ve decided that now is a good time to purge myself of useless possessions, but I am having problems decluttering myself of objects for which I have a sentimental attachment - i.e. I have an old pair of worn-out walking boots that I wore when walking the Pennine Way in 1979; this week I put them in the bin, only to take them out again before the bin man arrived.
How do I break this sentimental attachment to otherwise useless objects? Should I even try to break it? Have other sotonians faced the same issue? Are there possessions that fellow sotonians would have difficulty getting rid of; if so, what are they?
These are genuine questions, so as Bear might say, no trolls pls!
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Come in. Sit on my couch, Halo.
In my experience, we tend to do irrational things to stop ourselves from experiencing otherwise negative feelings.
I’m no expert, but I think I can categorically say * that your boots represent another Halo - a Halo from another world.
I’m sure that prior to throwing them out, you didn’t think about your boots from day to day - didn’t look at the boots and find yourself wistful, so it isn’t specifically the boots.
But once you put those boots in the bin, you were symbolically closing a door to the past.
Tucked away inside those boots were long-forgotten friends, relatives now passed away and a young Halo that had so many dreams.
Throwing them away meant dealing with your feelings for those friends, relatives and younger self. I don’t think you’ve fully come to terms with leaving those people behind.
I have been able to diagnose all of this from the 4 paragraphs you shared, so it’s 100% accurate. Take it as an official diagnosis.
I prescribe that you:
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Have a Bletch hug. They’re free.
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Love who you are now.
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Open a bottle of Scotch
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Have long drink whilst sitting and reminiscing about those times.
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Plan to contact friends / relatives you haven’t spoken to for a while. Tell them what they mean to you.
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Burn the boots
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Have a word with Pele and get some blue pills**
Dr. Bletch.
*mild trolling
**moderate trolling
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In answer to your general question Halo - yes, I do have a sentimental attachment to objects. Usually anything that reminds me of my Dad who passed away a few years back.
Getting rid of those things feels like a betrayal of sorts.
So I don’t.
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Brilliant analysis, Bletcher. I know who to come to now if I have any problems.
A suggestion. Why don’t you put some of that stuff into storage so you’ll get used to the benefits of not having it (not having clutter will feel more stress free) and you’ll feel the cost of keeping them, so eventually probably ditch them.
I empathise, I’m a complete hoarder.
Edit: Soz, just realised I’m specifically ban from post in this thread 
Why?
and what did you delete?!
erm you can’t have it both ways lou, either I’m allowed to troll every thread with knob gags + sexy photos, or I ain’t! You can’t then be like, I wonder what bearsy would have said bout this, if we didn’t have him trussed up in gimp mask.
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I didn’t complain about trolling. I complained about 98% of posts being naked women or cock jokes. There’s more to you than that, Bear!
Not a great deal more tbh.
I’ve got an old Timberland shirt that my mum got me before I moved to Liverpool. Wore it as both my kids were born, and have taken it on tour to many places. Can’t get rid of it. Still wear it most weeks.
Well Bletch, as Lou says, that is brilliant analysis - I feel that you have looked deep into my soul and cut straight to the heart of the matter.
In a sense I suppose that I’m allowing my self-identity - even my self-worth - to be defined by stuffy old possessions. Perhaps it’s just an even uglier form of conspicuous consumerism: I’m only keeping those old boots so that people will look at them and ask about them, giving me the opportunity to say, ‘I walked the Pennine Way, don’t you know?’ Perhaps that’s the reason I can’t get rid of my old books: I want people to look at them and say, ‘Look at all those old books, isn’t Halo a well-read fellow?’
Oh Bletch, it’s beginning to dawn on me that I’m just a very shallow, deeply flawed character - for god sake send more hugs and whiskey (rum’s my preferred tipple, but no matter) before it’s too late!
The trouble with hoarding stuff, Lou, is that eventually someone has to get rid of it.
When my father died, many years ago, I had to hire 3 skips to get rid of all the old car engines and other divers junk that he had assured me ‘will come in handy one day, nipper’, simply because I had no place in which to put it.
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I’ve got boxes of stuff I’ve moved from address to address to address. I’ve moved about 15 times in the past 20 years (as I have short patience with girls and move in with them, only to find they are idiots). I just moved to a tempory address (my parents) a few weeks ago and again moved boxes of stuff I know I’ll never use or do anything with. I need to be more ruthless as well, but you never know when you’ll need a plastic VW Beetle toy for the early 90’s right Halo!!!
You’re not alone Halo. Once when I moved, a mate who was helping me had a go at me when he noticed he’d carried a box into the van and out the other end. then he saw I’d written on it “To throw away?” I just hadn’t had time to go through it all before moving!! 
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Cheers for your support, Spudders.
For years I carted around a box labelled ‘memorabilia’, and even paid for it to go into storage (along with some other stuff) for 6 months.
Mrs Stickman wasn’t very happy when she found out it was stuffed full of letters and photographs etc from old girl-friends 
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Originally posted by @Bearsy
Not a great deal more tbh.
Bletch, how about you do an analysis on Bearsy?
It’s a problem alright. I’ve been through the same thing but on the last house move about 3 years ago I said to myself that I’d allocate one small crate and put the most memorable items in there and bin/sell/burn the rest. That way I didn’t feel too much grief when I ditched them. Funnily enough I looked in there the other day and had a little “reminisce” over my Grandads war medals, college yearbook, FA Cup final programme ('76) and Best of Mayfair Vol2, No 17.
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Hmmm, I can’t decide what I’m looking forward to most: Bletch’s analysis on Bear, or Bear’s analysis on Bletch. 
The Bear is easy, my advice would be…
Bear, you need to lose your virginity…and losing your virginity is not the same as misplacing your wank sock.
x
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