for perspective I'm writing this whilst unable to get out of bed to go to the bathroom, lol
Jun. 15th, 2025 12:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
requiemsBeen feeling increasingly distressed at my inability to look after myself, aka, the fact I can't clean and dust my flat. 🫠 The dust in particular. I don't really know what to do about it; it's not something that can be done in a slow and steady fashion when the slow and steady you're now capable of is maybe one object per day. Like that is absolutely not achievable, not only as thing would be dusty again by the time I finish doing one area but because the base of where the object is has to be wiped down, all objects need to moved first.
Taking a week to do a section felt rough, taking a month to do an even smaller section felt worse, and now I can't do it at all. I am incredibly envious of normal bodies being able to entirely clean their living spaces in one or two afternoons. As always, if I didn't have to eat or clean up following that, imagine how many more spoons I might have... food truly is the source of all my predicaments...
I've thought about maybe just paying someone to clean but the only thing I'd be comfortable with someone doing that for would be my bathroom, and possibly the kitchen. Everything else is a no go; frankly I don't trust a stranger with being careful enough with my precious things, and I need to put things back in their proper places myself. There's also just, we're still in a pandemic lmao and I don't like strangers in my safe space considering I can't leave it and I can't tolerate having people in my living space as is (thanks PEM), I can't see my family. Anyways.
Still haven't had the energy to look into bathroom stuff - the weekend has been quiet on the noise front, but now the adrenaline has gone I feel awful and my body has taken this as a convenient means to wake up after four hours of sleep routinely again (bad). But amidst distress I've been recontemplating furniture. I have a desk in my room, which I don't use for intended purpose. I had it because when I moved out I was still studying and it was useful when living with someone. Since I got ME, and I was living alone before that, I have used it... maybe twice. If anything it's a convenient height surface to put things on. The drawer is useful, as is its side storage, but I might be better off getting some more billy bookcases (with doors), maybe shuffling the location of some stored things around, and using the new spaces as figure display...?? I'm still ruminating honestly. I do like the not-desk, I just think the space could be better utilised... it's a tough one.
Then there's the nagging voice of "but what if I need it (doesn't like change)" and "but what if I need it (I get better)". The second of those is a cruel thought to carry around. But this is how it always feels when removing society-normal things out of my life; it's having to admit that you won't, surrender a bit more hope, and mourn even more.
Taking a week to do a section felt rough, taking a month to do an even smaller section felt worse, and now I can't do it at all. I am incredibly envious of normal bodies being able to entirely clean their living spaces in one or two afternoons. As always, if I didn't have to eat or clean up following that, imagine how many more spoons I might have... food truly is the source of all my predicaments...
I've thought about maybe just paying someone to clean but the only thing I'd be comfortable with someone doing that for would be my bathroom, and possibly the kitchen. Everything else is a no go; frankly I don't trust a stranger with being careful enough with my precious things, and I need to put things back in their proper places myself. There's also just, we're still in a pandemic lmao and I don't like strangers in my safe space considering I can't leave it and I can't tolerate having people in my living space as is (thanks PEM), I can't see my family. Anyways.
Still haven't had the energy to look into bathroom stuff - the weekend has been quiet on the noise front, but now the adrenaline has gone I feel awful and my body has taken this as a convenient means to wake up after four hours of sleep routinely again (bad). But amidst distress I've been recontemplating furniture. I have a desk in my room, which I don't use for intended purpose. I had it because when I moved out I was still studying and it was useful when living with someone. Since I got ME, and I was living alone before that, I have used it... maybe twice. If anything it's a convenient height surface to put things on. The drawer is useful, as is its side storage, but I might be better off getting some more billy bookcases (with doors), maybe shuffling the location of some stored things around, and using the new spaces as figure display...?? I'm still ruminating honestly. I do like the not-desk, I just think the space could be better utilised... it's a tough one.
Then there's the nagging voice of "but what if I need it (doesn't like change)" and "but what if I need it (I get better)". The second of those is a cruel thought to carry around. But this is how it always feels when removing society-normal things out of my life; it's having to admit that you won't, surrender a bit more hope, and mourn even more.
