I Wonder Where The Socks Go When They Get Lost In The Wash

I'm taking on the daunting task of cleaning my room today.
My room is not just your typical 20-something female mess, not at all.
The last time I slept in that room was well over 2 months ago, I re-located to the guest room upstairs.

An addict lived there.
My life at that point had become totally unmanageable. And when I look in my room now I can see it all too clear. My room had no space to stand in what-so-ever, clothes , shoes , food , garbage , so much fucking garbage.
Just what I had become during all those months down there. Fucking garbage.
It makes me so sad to look at my room and know I could live there , know I could allow it to get to that point , know I had totally lost control.
I don't want to go through it cause I'm sacred what I'd find, and not to mention its a basement room with the furnace system beside it so I see the scariest bugs, and I can not handle bugs.
I also can't imagine having to live and sleep in it again, it makes me feel really nervous.
Some one help me.