I am procrastinating from cleaning by writing a blog post about how difficult it is for me to clean. I mean mentally and emotionally difficult.
It takes a lot for me to get into cleaning mode, usually me kicking and screaming all the live long day. Imagine me being dragged down the street kicking and screaming and you know exactly what it’s like when I am cleaning. I fucking hate it, it pisses me off. I think that when you make a mess it should just shrink into nothingness, and then vanish.
I think that’s a fair request, but sadly I am not a child and cleaning doesn’t work that way. When I was a kid I was especially clean, my room was always tidy and my toys were always put back where they belonged.
Unfortunately as I got older, and more sexualized by my abusers, my ability to remain calm and happy when I clean went out the fucking window. I don’t know why exactly, but I think the mess that I am living in currently is a manifestation of the emotional mess inside my head, and that frustrates the crap out of me.
It means that there is still a lot of stuff that I haven’t yet dealt with, and I am not in the mood to deal with it now. I just want it to be done already so I can move into the next phase of my life.
Part of it is this quarantine, part of the emotional stuff I mean, it’s gotten me down so low, because I had planned to be attending events and networking and building the LMBG brand, and now I am a full year probably two behind schedule, because we’re all in lock down mode.
I am frustrated because I decided to make LMBG my career, I had planned to be out meeting people and talking about mental health, I had plans and the Universe is laughing it’s ass off while hundreds of thousands of people around the world sit by and wonder if they’re loved ones are going to die from Covid19.
In comparison my problems don’t seem so big and scary after all, so I know I can handle the gargantuan task of cleaning my house, I just don’t fucking want to. There are ten thousand other things that I wish I could be doing, but unfortunately I don’t have a choice anymore.
You see I’ve been getting tired of the mess for awhile, and I needed a change, so I let it slip to my Building Superintendent that I needed some work done in my apartment, and now that the lock down is lifting he’s coming tomorrow in order to do the things I need done like fixing the lights in my dining room and the blinds on my windows.
I may have done this accidentally on purpose so I’d have a reason to tidy up my house, because I may have decided that if things were going to change in this house I was going to have to be the one to make the change…the thing is, with hours to go before he gets here, I don’t want to fucking clean.
I’m tired, I am cranky, my back hurts and I am in this mode where I am just slightly stoned and writing an I am happy, happy is such a delicate balance for me that I never want to do anything to upset it.
Happy doesn’t happen very often in my life, at least it hasn’t in the past, it’s something that I am only just now starting to understand let alone comprehend.
So when I have it I want to hold onto it for as long as possible. Where the darkness used to bring me comfort, where I once got used to being the girl who was raped a lot, where I was one the girl only comfortable when I had a man near me, I am now free of all of that.
Which is fucking awesome. I don’t need to be having sex or masturbating to feel like myself again, but by the same token as uncomfortable as I am with the darkness these days, I am just as uncomfortable in the light as well.
I’m not used to it, and that’s really frustrating because I feel like I should be. There are many reasons that the mess in my house has gotten out of hand, but the premier most important reason is that I’ve spent so much time putting more of my effort into this blog than I have been into taking care of myself, and today of all days that has to change.
So wish me luck,
Sending all my love,
Devon J Hall