Sentimental value or just plain crazy?!

Whenever I see hoarders on TV I can't understand how someone could live this way.  The keeping old stuff part I do get, what I don't get is the amount of trash, etc.  Anyway, since we've sold our house in the suburbs (six years ago already) to move to a condo downtown we've had to let go of many of our things.  It always amazes me how much we can accumulate. 

Hubby often complains about how much crap we own, and how much we lack space.  He's right about the lack of space.  We do have a storage unit, offsite, that mostly serves as storage for my Christmas gear and our camping stuff .  Of course it also stores our winter tires, boxes of books we don't want to get rid of just yet (like all our Tintin, Astérix & Obélix, Calvin and Hobbes), and a bunch of other goods.  Last weekend we spent over three hours in our locker sorting through boxes and making quick decisions as to what we were keeping or re-storing.  We did manage to get rid of a few boxes and decided to sell all our camping equipment and some other things.

On Sunday I've posted on a local website a bunch of items for sale and sent an email to a bunch of friends, hoping for the best.  Well, it's been working. We've sold a few items, only had one person who negotiated ($5 less than the asking price).  Granted, we're not asking much for most of these things, even if we did pay good money for them when we bought them and even if they are in good condition, we want them to go so we priced them to go.

Some of our things are not ready to let go just yet and this despite the amount of space they take our or little we used them.  I do understand the reasoning (or lack of) behind keeping something for sentimental reasons, and it pisses me off that I show this weakness towards, let's say, my big doll, Louise, which my grand-mother had given me when I was a few years old.  When I did open the box she was in, I knew I should have taken it out to the "sell" pile, but I couldn't.  I still remember how I had cut her bangs (they're still crooked) and how she sat on my bed for years.  About ten years ago, my mother gave me my first pair of walking shoes, which I didn't know what to do with until I saw Louise and tried them on her.  They fit her and have been on her feet ever since.  How could I let go of that doll now, after all those years? 

I will say/write this though, I was very proud of me for letting go of a bunch of stuffed animals, even if each one reminded me of something or someone.  It was their time to go I guess.  If only I could apply that logic and detachment to some other things too... argh.