When depression or anxiety hits hard, even standing in the middle of a messy room can feel like failure like every object is shouting a reminder of what we haven’t done. The laundry that never got folded. The papers we never sorted. The dishes that keep piling up. It’s easy for our brains to twist clutter into a story about who we are. And for people living with mental illness, the story it tells is often cruel: “If you can’t do it all, then why even start?”
For a long time, that voice won. I avoided. I shut the door. I told myself I’d clean when I had a full day of energy which never came. Because clutter doesn’t grow from laziness. It grows from exhaustion. It grows from trying to survive while our nervous system is constantly in overdrive. Some weeks, the most courageous thing we do is get out of bed at all. And that is already enough.
So now, instead of demanding huge transformations from myself, I focus on one drawer. Not the whole kitchen. Not the closet. Just one tiny space where I can practice showing up. If I take out a few things that don’t belong, throw away one piece of trash, or simply make room to close the drawer without forcing it that’s a win. That’s proof I made something better. Progress should count even when it’s small.
You may notice in my videos that you rarely see my face. That’s intentional. This isn’t a makeover show or a performance. It’s not about pretending everything is okay. It’s about hands doing the quiet, persistent work that keeps us functioning. Our hands tell the story of effort — even when our minds tell us to stop. This series honors that effort.
Some days, I have enough energy to organize a whole cabinet. Other days, clearing a spot for my keys is all I can manage. Living with fluctuating capacity means choosing tasks that match the version of you that exists today not the version you wish you were. Rest counts. Half-finished counts. Trying counts. The pace does not matter here.
I want you to know this: you deserve a home that helps you feel safer, not more overwhelmed. A space that supports you, not shames you. When we declutter, we create breathing room in our environment and in our minds. Every object we let go of becomes one less decision, one less chore later, one less burden on a day when energy is scarce. That matters.
🎬 Want to try this with me?
Start with a single drawer. Five minutes. No more. Breathe before you begin, and breathe again when you stop. Then, if you feel like sharing, come back and tell me: “I did my drawer.” I will celebrate with you.
Because this is how we build a life that works — gently, slowly, and at the pace that honors our healing. One drawer. One moment of courage. One breath at a time.
Growing Beyond Limits 