My House is a Mess and So is My Brain
I wasn't raised in a messy home. My mother was a homemaker, so that's what she did. She made the home. She made sure the house was clean, the meals were made, and the teeth were brushed.
So, why am I such a mess?
Despite being raised tidy, I have never been able to maintain an organized living space without supervision. Not ever. At my worst, it's not mere disorganization, but piles of trash and dirty clothes. I've never reached "hoarder level." I always clean up after myself before the mess ever reaches a true crisis, but the order lasts a few days (if I'm lucky) and then descends into chaos.
It's not that I've never been taught how to organize, because I have. And it's not laziness, because I work my fucking tail off constantly.
It's a legit executive functioning malfunction: a combination of depression, hyperfocus, and ADHD. It's the "oh, fuck. What have I done? This mess is overwhelming, so I'm going to ignore it" cycle.
The part that bothers me the most is that my disorder is rubbing off on my son. As a single father, I'm his only constant influence. He spends a lot of time with my parents (my stepmother and father, not my tidy biological mother), who, while not completely organized, are at least clean. The same habits that have stuck with me my whole life are now his habits.
The disorder of our living space does my mental state no favors. The mess makes my brain feel constantly occupied. Perpetually stimulated. There is no true peace, and my mind is never quiet.
I have tried to build organizational habits. I've tried different methods and tricks, and I've always failed. I desperately want to live an organized life. I want my son to learn good habits before it's too late.
If anyone else struggles with this issue, or has advice on how to work on it, reply with a webmetion or feel free to leave me a kind response on my Guestbook.