When I start cleaning things I know there are issues inside that need to be dealt with. When I see dirt everywhere, when I would do the same load of laundry 3 times if it didn’t look strange to Barney, when I run disk defrag twice or change the bed sheets twice on Monday’s then I know I’ve got some issues to deal with. When I start that damn cleaning every inch of the house then it means inside is chaotic and in my mind that’s “unclean” it’s cluttered, it’s out of control. I know very well that when I start cleaning shit left and right that its really me I want to clean. I can’t scrub enough to get that feeling out of my head.
I was talking to someone, I can’t remember who, and I was telling her about rearranging the herb cabinet. I have 35 fresh herbs and spices so this was no small task. If you add in the store bought shit then the task is even larger. I was there for over 3 hours. The labels had to be just right. They all had to be in the same direction. I had herbs together, spices together, barriers and then whole spices together. Then I alphabetized them according to those specifications. Lord that was one very long night. But it felt like if I walked away my mind would crack more than if I stood there and re-arranged them for another friggin hour.
When I was cooking dinner today I could see every single speck of dirt in that kitchen. At one point I wanted to run out of there back to my relatively clean area. For the love of Pete, don’t let it rain. Rain means mud and that my mind can’t handle. This is getting crazy I tell ya, just crazy. I was watching King of Queens. They had a show about bed bugs. I had to turn that shit off. It wasn’t funny to me. Hell, I have enough trouble laying down in that bed without worrying about friggin germs. So, I turned it off.
I was so happy Barney wasn’t here to see me the other day when I about threw away a glass because of a perceived stain. God that was horrible. I knew I was doing it so I tried to just walk away from it.
Right now I’m feeling rather useless and like a failure. I feel a bit lonely too I think. If I could give in and lay down I might save myself a bit of trouble. Giving in hasn’t been something I’ve ever been able to do. I have to fight until there isn’t anything left. When I get to that point and lay down there is nothing but shame. I call it the Broken Boxer Syndrome. You fight as long as you can but for the sake of living you throw in the towel. There’s a bit of humiliation involved but you get to live in the end. Sometimes it feels like if I don’t lay down I’ll lose my friggin head. If I’ve been up for a few days in a row, fighting sleep, trying to contain my thoughts then that 4th night I end up throwing in the towel. I can’t take another minute of being awake so I just go lay down. But it feels like I have nothing left to fight with when I give in like that. I know what I’m going to dream. Hell I dreamed it again last night. so why on earth would I not fight it like this?
I was thinking too about the containers issue that I spoke of the other day. Not only do I keep containers but most of them are glass. I can see through them. I obviously have control issues. My dishes are mostly glass. I need to be able to see through them. I need nothing to be hidden on them, no areas where I can’t see through them. I have some plates that aren’t glass but most of them are glass and they’re the same exact plate from the same exact store. Again, control issues.
I have to throw in the towel. I have to either throw it in or break my teeth as I grit them and type this damn entry. God help me ‘cause obviously I can’t help myself.
Ariel
Obsessive Cleaning
Tuesday, February 28, 2006-3:46 AM








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