Basically, I suck at it. I think I have a brain disconnect when it comes to cleaning.
When I married my first husband (aka Satan or Dickhead) I cleaned as much as possible. But, just like everything else, it was never good enough. I would get the counter cleaned off, he would come in and set something on it. I would get the dishes washed, he would cook something and not clean up. One time I got so mad because he cooked mac and cheese after I had washed dishes and I asked that he please clean up after himself. He didn’t. So it sat for a day, for a week, for 2 weeks…it turned green, it turned fuzzy, but I was NOT going to wash that damn pot. I think I finally did take it out to the pasture and squirted it out with the hose pipe. Every weekend, I would clean (I worked a full time job and we had a son to look after too)he would go hang out with friends, go to the lake, take day trips, go ride the motorcyle while I stayed home and cleaned. I think the straw that broke the housekeeping camel’s back was on a Saturday, I spent all day cleaning, even moved the couches to sweep behind them. He had been on a skiing trip with a friend. I was sitting on the couch reading when they got home. He asked what I had done that day and I explained that I had spent most of the day cleaning. His response, in front of our friend, was, “Well, why the fuck didn’t you finish?” The house was spotless.
I think that’s when it happened. I think that’s when I got the first inkling of realization that no matter how clean the house was it would never be good enough. So, I quit trying and over 10 years, a 2nd marriage down the drain later, I still have trouble making myself clean the house. I get so overwhelmed, I just can’t start. Don’t get me wrong, we’re not talking hoarder level messy, (nothing against those blessed souls with that particular mental illness). It’s just the clutter. On the kitchen table, the coffee table, I have issues with putting up laundry, I’ll live out of the clean clothes basket for as long as possible. I’ve been sleeping without sheets for almost a week. They’re clean, just haven’t felt like putting them on the bed. I know, I KNOW, I would feel so much better if I could keep it clean, I would so love to not have to worry about anyone coming into my house and judging me because it’s not spotless.
Luckily, Frankie, my boyfriend, does not judge me on this and he would never ask me, especially if they house was clean, why the fuck. didn’t I finish. He would say, “the house looks great, I’m proud of you” but still, I can’t bring myself to even get started. Heavy sigh. (Literally, I just heavy sighed) Maybe one day. In the meantime, I’m going to blame my messy disorganization on my artist brain. Sounds legit, right!?
Love, Susan. Amen.
PS I knew I forgot something. One of his biggest complaints (excuses for his behavior?) was the house being messy. If the house was clean, for some reason, he would be meaner though. It made me feel crazy. It’s been over 10 years, lots of therapy and I’m in a great relationship now, but when I think of this, I still feel the same way…It still makes me feel crazy.