Cleaning Out My Emotional Hoard
Linda Trummer
by Linda Trummer
Today I am planning—and by “planning” I mean “thinking about maybe considering it”—to clean out my emotional hoard.
Not the cute stuff.
Not the “aw, look, a memory” stuff.
I mean the radioactive vault where I store the feelings I don’t have the energy to process before breakfast.
The vault currently contains:
- Fear of cancer returning that I keep trying to shove into a decorative basket like it’s a throw pillow.
- Scanxiety that shows up uninvited, eats all my snacks, and criticizes my décor.
- Medical trauma that taps me on the shoulder every time I try to relax, whispering, “Remember that time…?”
- A whole suitcase of grief that I keep labeling “seasonal items” even though it’s clearly year‑round.
- Guilt for not being superhuman during treatment, after treatment, and on Tuesdays.
- A binder of goals I abandoned because surviving took priority, but the binder still judges me.
- A tote bag of “I should be doing more” that weighs roughly the same as a small planet.
- A box labeled “I’m totally fine” that rattles suspiciously when moved.
I opened the door to all of it this morning.
Took one look.
And said, with the confidence of a woman who has survived things most people can’t imagine:
“Absolutely not. I’m just here to acknowledge your existence, not to unpack your nonsense.”
Because here’s the truth no one puts on inspirational mugs:
When you’ve lived with cancer—past, present, or lurking in the shadows—you carry emotional baggage that does not fit in the overhead compartment.
Some days you can sort it.
Some days you can’t.
And some days the bravest, most honest thing you can do is give it a little side‑eye and say,
“Not today, sweetheart. I’m busy staying alive.”
So today’s challenge is simple:
Pick one piece of emotional baggage.
Don’t unpack it.
Don’t Marie Kondo it.
Just nod at it like,
“I see you. I’ll deal with you when my soul has had caffeine and a nap.”
We’re keeping the bar low enough to limbo under with style.
May the force be with you.
Linda Trummer is a 10-year survivor of Mantle Cell Lymphoma. She also runs an online support group of 2700 people from 40 different countries, on Facebook. Each day, she posts a positive thinking narrative to help people kickstart their day. This is one of those posts.
