All glued up

As some of you might know, I've lived in this same house for 17 years, on and off. It's home, a place where I put down roots. Two days ago I received notice that I will have to move out by August 1st. I was stunned. A notice to move is a bummer for most people, an annoyance, a pain in the ass, but it's monumental to me. A huge life change. Stability is a major theme in my life, and I've strived for it, fought for it, despite the odds I was dealt growing up. I've also enjoyed cheap rent for all these years, enabling me to save up for a down payment on my own house one day, but the prices in Santa Barbara have left me behind. It won't happen for me here unless I find a miracle, and now I face a double in rent at least.

Looking around the house I've noticed how much stuff can accumulate in 17 years, and I'm a packrat. I've got furniture, art supplies, art, records, clothing and knick-knacks enough to fill my own 3 bedroom house! I have a relationship with my stuff. I know I'm going to have to trim it down by nearly half when I leave. While I know this will be liberating, I am dreading it.
I've been thinking about these things for 3 days now.

Today in the shower I used the last of one of my mom's bottles of shampoo. When I cleared out her house after she died I took things home with me, things I could use, like her household items and some cherished photos and mementos. The rest I was forced to dispose of. It was difficult. Over the last year and a half the shampoo bottles have been in my shower. I use them sparingly, careful not to get to the end. The thought of using them up and throwing them away makes me unbelievably sad.
Maybe it's because it was hers and she used it, I still had some sort of link to her that wasn't gone yet. Her hands touched this bottle... so that means I cannot be too far from her in time, right? This is the same logic that applies when one balls up a piece of paper to throw in the wastebasket and they think, 'If this makes it in the basket he/she will love me...'. Who hasn't thought that way once or twice in their life? I do not want the time to pass when I had her in my life. I don't want her shampoo to be gone because she'll never give me anything again that her lovely hands touched. I want to be closer to that time, not further away. It is a faulty logic, but one I cannot shed.
Now I've got to go through all my stuff. Have a gargage sale. Sell off pieces of me. Shed that skin, that time. I know it will help me to move into the future, but what if I don't want to? What if I want to go back in time instead? It seems safer and happier back then. The last few years have proven that to me. Heading into the future doesn't seem like a lot of fun. When did that happen to me? I never used to think that way. I've lost far too much. Maybe that's why I hang on so tightly to my stuff. Well, the time has really come for me to let GO. I've spent time with friends who have lost parents, children, spouses, and they are doing well. They lifted me up and inspired me, but soon after I am left again with my own thoughts and they seem to go to a dark place.

If there is a such thing as energy flow, mine has been all glued up for some time. No in with the good (new), out with the bad (old). Nothing but sticky black grief, fear and regret. Nothing green can grow up and flower out of that kind of soil. I need to break it up. I know this move will help me do that, so why do I loathe the idea of it so much? I've got to change my thinking on this. My whole life is an open book right now. I should embrace it, but... God, I hope it gets easier somehow.