time to throw out the garbage

I carry around a lot of garbage. Not physically- emotionally, spiritually, mentally. I feel my shoulders bending and aching under the weight of the luggage and baggage I have chosen to bear. Isn't that an interesting selection of words... "chosen to bear"? I took a moment to look up synonyms:
chosen- selected, elect, preferred, special
bear- tolerate, allow, swallow, endure, suffer, support, accept, have.
I am realizing that I choose to carry this around. Why?

Some days I am absolutely miserable with myself. I look in the mirror and all I see are the nasty messages I have stuck like bumper stickers all over the baggage... just to give bullet point references to what each suitcase contains. It's sick. Why do I believe this stuff? Why do I tolerate, allow, swallow, suffer, accept the guilt, shame, and feelings of failure?

On particularly "bad head days" I will scrub the baseboards in hopes that it will clean out some of the thoughts. Or I will do tons of laundry, painstakingly searching for every stain to "shout" out. Funny that I "shout" out the stains. That's exactly how I live. I wonder at what point I will be "all, free and clear"? When will I stop reliving conversations and broken friendships. When will I get over feelings of being abandoned and treated unfairly? When will I be able to move on instead arguing out loud with no one?

I have physical reminders of dreadful times past and I hang on to them like treasures. I accidentally put one in the trash last week and when I saw it I actually had to drag a stool outside to dig it back out of the trashcan so I could run in and file it safely back away. What's wrong with me?
It's like I am more comfortable as a pack mule. As if I enjoy tight shoulders and my aching back.

Yet I continue to prefer this life, this half-life. Is this all I know? Am more comfortable here than I would be free? Am I afraid, and if I am, why and of what? Or am I just too lazy to deal with the smelly, rotten mess?

What I do know is this: I am starting to stink from all the garbage in my life. Pieces of my soul are withering away.
I think it's time to throw out the garbage and move on.