Lately I have been working on my organizational skills, or, lack thereof… Growing up I was always in trouble for having a messy room. The jokes still fucking follow me to this day, and I am now 30….
But, I am super messy. My room is always a fuckcluster of shit, my car is a disaster, I have just enough room on my desk to kind of fit my keyboard….It’s….it is what it is…
I do try to clean, and usually every other month or so I get everything nice and tidy, but then proceed to destroy it all within a day…It’s like a god damn out-of- body experience… I blink and BOOM….it looks worse than ever.
I always say that I like it that way and it’s just ‘how I am.’ I don’t hate it, but I don’t like it either. I would love to be more organized. I know how much stress it would relieve to be neat and organized…I just…can’t… I’m not even going to try and explain it, you just have to trust me… I can’t.… but I will keep trying.
That leads me to what I have been thinking about the past few days. All of the places I keep super messy are what I consider my personal spaces. I have two….clues? I think? It might not be either, or it may be a mix of both – but I have been wondering:
Do I keep my spaces messy because it feels like the only thing I’ve ever had control over?
Or is it a deeper, symbolic thing, like, keep the attention on anything but me?
I need to keep chewing on it…It’s not that I need to figure this out in a black and white sort of way, it just feels like it could be a small piece to the puzzle I am working on. The puzzle being my mental health…but, I mean you probably got that….
That’s all on that for now…