I can’t seem to leave well enough alone. I keep digging and searching for an answer and more times than not, I don’t like what I find. It’s sort of like what happened to me recently, nothing new really, but I noticed the presence of this theme in my life when I decided to look in my pantry for another bag of flour. While navigating my narrow pantry, I accidently knocked over a container of cocoa powder. When it hit the floor, the lid popped off and even though it was only a half cup or so of cocoa powder, it made a horrible mess. Worse yet, it landed on the floor next to my oven where the floor tends to collect grease spatters, what a disaster.
I was wearing slippers and the tops were part of the collateral damage, but how I managed to get cocoa powder inside them remains a mystery to me. I carefully tapped off the loose powder and got to work cleaning up. I assessed the damage and acquired the necessary tools, but it quickly became a farce. Somehow I managed to not only get my hands covered in cocoa, but my feet as well. I looked like I had just had a sexual encounter with an Ooma Loompa with a foot fetish! It felt like no matter how hard I tried, the cocoa mess spread, but when I finally felt I had it under control, my eyes spied another mess.
I got to work on the new mess, but once again my eyes spied another and another until I realized I was making myself crazy with the endless duties of taking care of a house. Everywhere I looked, I saw something more that needed a cleaning until I told myself, “Enough!” and made a plan to continue on my next day off. I often wonder how I came to be this way. I suppose one could say that I’m a perfectionist, but that’s not true. My house is organized, but it is definitely not clean. I tend to let the dusting go for long periods of time with the thought in mind that if I don’t move anything, no one can tell that there is dusting to be done. There are actually times that instead of taking a cloth to the project, I simply blow the dust away for it to land someplace else less conspicuous. No, a perfectionist I am not, but I do feel that if a job is worth doing, it’s worth doing well, I just don’t find dusting worthy.
Actually, I tend to let the matter dwell and grow until instead of having a chore to do, I have a project. Funny thing is, I can get so much done in a day when I need to, but if something is not a necessity, if it doesn’t make my list of things to do, it simply vanishes into the background of my mind to a point I do not see it at all. That is, until I move something. I suppose that is another reason I do not like change. If something changes, I will need to pay more attention to it and what if I don’t like what I see? What happens if what I see is more greasy dust, no matter which way I look, there will be no denying I have to do something and I have to keep cleaning.
Then there’s the matter of who’s going to see it anyway? It’s not like I ever have company, especially these days, so who cares? Certainly not my son whose favorite response to most everything these days is, “It’s fine.” or “It’ll be fine.” I will tell him that he needs to clean the bathroom, that it’s disgusting and I can’t take it anymore and he’ll be like, “What are you talking about?” and really mean it. Maybe it is fine, but if I honestly can’t remember the last time we did clean it, that’s not a good sign either.
It makes me wonder if I have a need to find a problem that I can fix because I am an enabler after all. That’s why I attract so many dysfunctional people, especially folks with addictions. Go to Gail’s, she’ll take care of it and probably make you a home cooked meal in the process. Ask Gail and she’ll fix it and probably feel like she’s letting you down by not doing enough. Gail will do it because she suffers from low self esteem and is desperate for companionship, she won’t even notice that you’re robbing her blind, cheating on her or making her look like a fool and no one who does care about her will say anything because, she seems happy to finally have someone, anyone in her life.
Seek and ye shall find is supposed to mean, effort will be rewarded. If I clean enough, things will look better, but will they really be better? If I’m laughing and having a good time, is that more important than being with someone who truly cares about me and has my best interest at heart? Facebook loves to remind me of my inability to see what was plainly in front of my face. Friends like to tell me that they knew, but I seemed so happy so they said nothing. No matter how far away I get from my past indiscretions, they come to visit me in the form of greeting cards addressed to John the Pilot (meaning he is still telling people that this is his house) or text messages from Mary telling me of her personal victories looking for congratulations.
It seems to me that no matter how much I seek to find peace and put distance between me and my past poor choices, I am not finding the reward. I can clean the dusty grease away, I can scrub the bathroom floors until they “shine like the top of the Chrysler Building!” (my musical theater friends will get the reference), I can learn how to buy a domain and start a blog so I have somewhere to say what’s on my mind, but will I ever find my reward? I can make things look good and be aesthetically pleasing, but the reality is I’m just as messed up as I was two years ago, afraid of my own shadow and alone.
I think it’s time for me to stop looking for answers, to stop trying to make things “fine” and to be as small as I can possibly be so no one can see that I haven’t moved. I may have blown my challenges in a direction that makes them less conspicuous, but they are still there. Maybe it’s time for me to leave well enough alone and admit defeat. The damage is done, the layers of grease and dust will never truly be gone because I never took the time to keep up with them. I was too busy creating the illusion of being happy to notice that I was living a lie. I look at the cleaning I have accomplished and it gives me momentary joy, but I know in the end, the dirt and mire will return, it always does. No matter, I’ll be fine and I have a Costco quantity of paper towel and Windex to keep me company.
#thelieswechoosetolivewith
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