I just found this forum through the SqualorSurvivors website. I hope I get to know you as well as the old members know each other.
My house... is mostly problems with maintenance. Trash accumulates on horizontal surfaces. I'll clean that and never get to the wiping parts. I haven't mopped the floor in ages, so there are spots everywhere. (Where do they come from, anyway?) The dishes don't get done until they stink, and I hate doing them then because I inevitably find some repellent mold that'll make me gag.
My biggest problem with cleaning is probably the large items that have no homes because they don't fit anywhere -- like exercise machines, guitars, a laundry cart.... I end up cleaning around them and the place looks no better when I'm done. My "serious" cleaning involves lugging these things around to new spots.
I worry about home care issues like water spots on the ceiling, and cracking wood outside, but I know I'll never get to them because I have so much basic cleaning to do first. (And besides, I really have no idea what to do about them.)
The lawn... have you ever seen Malcolm in the Middle? That lawn is my lawn! You should really DVR or rent it just to see. It's scary.
I've bought several nifty cleaning appliances that I can't use because the house isn't clean enough for them, heh!
Actually, this state of my house is pretty good. I've been trying to learn to clean for quite a while, and I can look back on my house of a few years ago and see that I've made major progress. There are a lot fewer piles to step around -- maybe just two or three, now -- where before, it was virtually impossible to step on the actual floor.
I actually like to wipe down and/or shine things. But I'm not a fan of elbow grease, so not very much of that gets done. (I suspect we have to use a lot more elbow grease than the average housewife.)
My reasons... I guess this is one: I had problems cleaning as a kid. My mother used to become frustrated and angry with me and told me to clean my room all the time. But she never really explained HOW. And she'd criticize me when I did clean; it was never good enough. So that probably contributed to my aversion to cleaning, a little.
And, as for now: I have a condition called emotional numbness. I can't feel emotions. I used to be very emotional as a kid, but went through some trauma in my teens that apparently burned it out for self-preservation. That was... 20 years ago, now?
I should make it clear, here, that I am not a psychopath -- I have a conscience, morals, kindness; I care about other people, and try my best to make them happy, comfort them, and help them out. I just can't feel anything myself. It's like any other lack of a sense, like blindness or deafness.
I don't normally tell people about this, because it seems to creep them out. I usually just call it depression, because it shares a lot of the same traits and is easier for others to understand. But I wanted to get to know you all, and this is the only way I can bare my soul to you and (hopefully) be accepted for who I truly am, you know?
(Doctors have tried everything on me. There's going to be an experimental treatment available in a few months, so wish me luck getting in on that.)
The people I tell this to seem to have a hard time believing it. After all, I
seem emotional. I use words for emotions because people seem to understand them better (and plus, there aren't really any alternative words), and I
act emotional. But I don't actually feel anything. (Well, sometimes I can feel bodily changes, like faster heartbeat, or muscle tightness....)
So it's very hard to make myself clean. I don't feel bad about the mess; I don't care. It seems logically pointless to clean regularly, since it just piles up again within a few days of distraction. And I get no rush of satisfaction or reward from doing it. I just do it because I'm trying to make myself useful.
The condition also comes with a vague sort of amnesia, from little things like forgetting my car keys to huge things like forgetting I went to college. Also, there's general brain fog. It also causes a sort of blankness regarding the future; I can plan goals, but they never seem quite real to me, and I'll forget about them a week later. You can see how this would affect my squalor, eh? (And I have this bad habit of making lists and then never looking at them again....)
The one thing it hasn't affected is my sense of humor, thank God. I can laugh at the absurdity of it all. (Friends who know me in person, ironically, call me the happiest person they've ever met.) And I've learned a lot about emotions, and life, from my outside observer status. So I'm grateful for that.
Anyway, it's one more weird disorder you can add to the list of clinical causes of squalor.
Other things... hmm.
I have an unimpressive blue-collar job. It may be remedied by my going to college again soon.
I have no kids. (I haven't even learned how to be responsible for
myself yet.)
I have a husband (he knows, of course) who is the sweetest, kindest man I've ever met, and I am so lucky to have met him. (Also, he has squalor issues too, so thankfully there's no friction there.) He does the laundry and sometimes the dishes. I can't tell you how much this has helped my reticence at cleaning the house. The laundry was my bugbear, before. I often just bought new clothes....
I have a cat. He uses the litter box only, bless him. But I'm sometimes very slow in emptying it (yes, I just toss it all and fill it again because I'm not good about scooping regularly). Pretty much the only times I get to it are when the odor becomes so bad you can smell it a room or two away. (*ashamed to admit this to the animal lovers here*)
I think I'm actually a bit of a perfectionist. When I decide to clean, I want to clean the
whole house before DH gets home. Perfectly. With nothing left over. I wonder why this never seems to work?
I have this weird desire to only clean when DH's not home. Perhaps because I don't want him to get mad about me throwing his 20-year-old Cub Scouts pamphlets away, or being criticized about how I'm not doing something right -- this happened a few days ago, but I don't remember what it was about (something about the dishwasher?). Or maybe I'm afraid he'll decide that it "looks so easy" if he sees me wiping up a spill or something. Yeah,
that part was easy....
I think that's about it. I'm sure I'll think of other things to add later.
Just hoping you understand.
Thanks,
tenderness
