The process of organizing my chaos is still ongoing, however, distraction is hindering me a bit—but in a good way.
While the goal was to start with the office—I got distracted by the kitchen. It’s not that the kitchen is neglected but there are some things in the cabinets which shouldn’t be there. Such as expired spices. Seriously expired spices. I also came across champagne glasses, the cheap kind, I knew they were there, but nonetheless, we don’t drink champagne–even on New Year’s Eve. Even if we did, we would probably use the regular glasses or plastic cups.
I have been purging and polishing.
While standing in the sunlight pouring through the kitchen windows, highlighting our shiny refrigerator—with its scratches and dings—I noticed some spots I missed. I used to berate myself for being so inept. I simply grabbed a soft cloth, aka paper towel, and polished some more. It’s good enough.
It’s hard living with my mind at times. I want a perfectly organized house, but I have the mind of a hoarder. Not a serious hoarder, but I do have to stop and ask myself—do I really need those cheap Santa mugs that were used once, while the kids were little?
I’m still working in the kitchen, perfection isn’t achieved overnight. The only thing that bothers me—all of this chaos and neglect, is a reflection of my depression. In a way, it makes me sad.
I’m not going to focus on this sadness, it doesn’t get me anywhere. It will only create more hoarding, dust, and chaos.
This may make sense to some, but baffle others–and this is simply my personal observation of my actions.
Letting go of self-hate and worry is a wee bit daunting. I now see that I used mild episodes of depression and anxiety as crutches to avoid life. Depression and anxiety became a source of comfort to me. It’s all I knew. I wasn’t vulnerable to the criticism of others, because I already believed I was bad. I didn’t have to expose myself to things that are simply uncomfortable, because I created an anxiety issue over everything. As soon as I felt any discomfort, before I knew it, I was stuck in the cycle of anxiety-depression-anxiety-depression…..
***Again, I’m not talking about my serious depressive, or anxiety/panic episodes, just the every day hate of myself, when the depression was there, but I wasn’t at the bottom of the bottom.***
Just as I have been dealing with unwanted, or items which no longer serve a purpose, so it goes with my thoughts. The thoughts about myself that are dusty, but have been used a lot. The thoughts which no longer serve a purpose.
I have been working on polishing myself, but the sun shines on some of the flaws I continue to see in myself. It doesn’t help when someone else points out the missed spots, but I’m finding that it doesn’t trigger an avalanche of horrible treatment of myself. I see them, I acknowledge them, I will work on them.