I am having a rough day at work. It’s almost 11am and I hear my S.O. is waking up and getting out of bed. I tell him that this work day is just going to get worse but he can help make it better. I made him a list of things that I really really really needed him to complete before I get off work. I need it. I REALLY need you to do this for me today. I am begging him.
I receive a hug and a promise that he will do whatever is on the list to take some stress away from my day. I tell him I know the list is long but the circled ones are my priorities. He promises me again it will get done. I return to my cage in hell office and continue to work until 6pm. As I am wrapping up my mentally exhausting day, I remember that my S.O. had been working on my list and the house should be clean and the appointments have been scheduled. I could finally relax.
I walk out of my prison office, the vacuum is right where I left it. The dog toys are all over the carpet. The counters are not cleaned off. I take a deep breath. Deep breath. How is the list going? I ask him over the tv show he is watching from the couch. “Oh yeah I’m still working on it.” I can see that. Deep deep breath. Do you mind if we sit down for a second with the list and go over all the appointments and stuff that you worked on? I know it sounds crazy but I would really like to cross everything off and add the appointments to my calendar. “Yeah I’ll just tell them to you real quick, we have a….” No. No, I need to sit down and I need to cross things off the list. Again, I know I am being crazy but it would make me feel better. “Ok do you want me to hand you the list and forward you the appointments from my calendar?” As I hold back tears I struggle to say, no that is not what I am asking for right now. I am asking to review the list together, it will make me feel better. At that moment all the tears I’m holding back explode out and I am sobbing. I am telling you what I need right now and you are not giving it to me.
He goes in for a hug to comfort me. I cannot hug him, I am too overstimulated and I cannot be touched. Anxiety overload.
I begin to vacuum and put away the mountain of laundry that seems to never go away. I notice when I get out of the bedroom he had cleaned the clutter off the counters and taken the dogs out for a walk. I spray the counters down and start the first of five loads of laundry….great more mountains of clothes to put away. As the house gets cleaner I am feeling a release. A release from the crazy OCD grip that is consuming my brain. A release from the anxiety of sitting in a dirty house filled with clutter. I think that if I can just get it clean that I will feel more at peace in my soul.
He returns with the dogs. He is afraid to get too close to me, that I will be overstimulated and cry again. I won’t, I feel better now. All I needed was control, control outside of my nine to five which I am not at a pay grade to control. Did he do the list? Half of it. I only asked him to do half. As I chug a vodka tonic I assure him we are ok. Time for a shot?
That was yesterday, this is my reflection on what happened.
This is what I need to come to terms with. He works a labor intensive job. He is on his feet 15 hours a day. He is not OCD like I am and is ok with dishes sitting out and clutter on our counters. I need to meet him halfway. He needs to meet me too. I need him to understand that my anxiety is heightened when our house is cluttered. I need him to take initiative to help me maintain our house so that I feel less crazy. Am I asking him too much? I don’t even understand why my anxiety is heightened when our house is cluttered. Ok now I’m having all these other thoughts. When I’m depressed I won’t clean the house for weeks and I am ok with that clutter. Like if I clean the house when I feel that way, it will mean I have to stop being depressed and return to normal life. Why is my brain so fucked up. Post for another time… vent sesh over.
Psycho Bitch out.
xoxoxoxox
Kelsey
It's fucked up, but kinda funny 