I'm not lazy, I'm sick


Photo by Jesus Hilario H. on Unsplash
Seriously, just looking at that cluttered desk makes it hard to breathe. 



My house is a disaster. Okay, maybe not a complete disaster – I’ve seen worse. But the clutter, dishes, and laundry that need to be taken care of are giving me anxiety attacks.         

There have been many studies that proved the link between clutter and stress, so the struggle is, in fact, real.

Unfortunately, anxiety robs me of my energy, so I don’t have the spoons to take care of the mess.

So the mess gets worse.

Then my anxiety gets worse.

Then I resort to watching television in my bedroom and avoiding the kitchen and living room so I don’t see the mess, so it doesn’t stress me out.

Repeat forever until I die in filth.

I swear I’m not lazy – I’m just always so mentally exhausted that I feel physically exhausted, and I don’t have the energy to be productive. Of course then there’s my defective thyroid, which also makes me physically exhausted.

I live for the days when I wake up feeling well.  They’re so rare, but when they happen it’s like a magical gift. On those days I turn my music up and clean. Those days happen once every two or three months.

There is, however, one exception. If I’m going to have a guest, I clean like a madwoman. I can’t bear for others to see my house messy, so I make sure I have time to clean before they come over. It’s the weirdest thing, because once I start, I go until I’m happy with the state of cleanliness – completely  unlike when I’m just cleaning because I know I should, and decide after stacking a few piles of clutter that it’s good enough.

Now, how do I rewire my brain to always think people are coming over, so I get that drive to clean? I suppose I could just invite people over frequently, but that sounds way too people-y.

Hopefully  I don’t end up on Hoarders.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Mom, Don't Read This One: Anxiety and My Sex Life

Sexual Abuse

I'm here, I'm queer, get used to it.