I used to be ashamed of my messy house, which made me spiral into anxiety. I let that shame go in pursuit of healthier motivation.When the pandemic started and I found myself at home all day, I remember thinking,"Well, at least my house will be clean." Instead of chatting at the watercooler or distracting myself with shiny things in my office, I imagined taking a moment here and there to do a load of laundry or wash the spoons.
I've never been the type to clean as I go. I leave my empty cans on the window sill, play the"can I fit one more item on the pile of trash" game, and laundry rarely makes it to the washer without a multi-stop tour of my floor. It's not that I never clean. I just wait until I have the time and energy to clean everything. I couldn't figure out why I could sometimes laser focus on cleaning, and other times I'd step over the same dirty sock for a week.
I wondered why other people had no problem getting up to throw granola-bar wrappers into an empty trash can. It's not that my house is disgusting — it's just in a perpetual state of"I'll get to that later."