Too much control, really.

Tossing out is good for the soul.

3 boxes have thrived under our bed for years. Mass dust bunny production. Whole communities of allergens have spawned there within the box neighborhood. The boxes are now vanquished. It was a hard battle, a war fought for the greater good, that being the miserly skimping of shipping unwanted items 8000 miles across the ocean. It is a worthy war. I have not needed the items in the boxes, they've been sorted and stacked for years, and things have come and gone from the boxes. But today was the armageddon of boxes. I tossed the boxes with all their contents n the bin. Lest I, in a weak moment, decide that no, I really need that t-shirt from 1988.
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As people go, he has control issues. I knew by the grip on the incoming mail, the locking up of the paperwork that runs a household, the insane interest in anything that could possibly be purchased for the house. Thank goodness it didn't start out that way, and we had quite a few great years, not to mention the 3 best human beings on the planet. And at least I know without a shadow of a doubt what caused the downfall into madness - religious zealous fanaticism. They are constant, and I'll be glad to board a plane with the babies in 8 days.

BUT - there has to be one,

Nothing made me laugh so hard as realising his control issues extended to fixed artwork. We have for the last 5 years had a framed needlework hung above the window over our sink. He'll be damned if that frame comes down, apparently, it's a hell and purgatory for him, because he hasn't just hung it on a nail, he's hammered the wire into the wall with a staple into the dent between the v-j-boards. That sucker was NEVER EVER coming down or gonna move. I guess if you can't control those around you, transfer some of that vengence onto the innocent decorative objects around the house. Lock down your staples Australia, cultman is going to be on the loose!