It’s surprising how a few stray socks or a pair of misplaced shoes can ignite my inner chaos. I could be minding my own business, but a glance at the pile of dirty dishes in the living room or the collection of old magazines scattered across the floor sends me into a frenzy.
I don’t want to lose my cool over a couple of items, yet here I am. The truth is, clutter drives me absolutely up the wall—BATSHIT CRAZY.
Now, let me clarify: I’m not a cleanliness fanatic. In fact, I’m quite the opposite. Dust doesn’t really bother me, and I’m not exactly diligent about changing my sheets (let’s just say we operate on a monthly schedule). Vacuuming? That’s not really my thing, and if you peek into my fridge, you might find some questionable science experiments brewing.
I’m not aiming for a spotless home by any means. Living in a house full of boys means I’ve accepted that the bathroom is perpetually less than pleasant. Dusting? Not on my radar. I’ve gotten used to our charming yet shabby decor, which is definitely not what you’d find on a design show.
My approach to domestic life is simple: Meh, good enough.
But when it comes to clutter and disarray? That’s a different story. It’s a surefire trigger for my anxiety.
And it’s not just me—research has shown that disorganization can worsen feelings of anxiety and depression.
Recently, I had a Saturday that turned into a full-blown purge session. I filled garbage bags with unwanted items and boxed up clothes, toys, and trinkets for donation. I was on a mission, and my family better get on board or stay out of my way (they chose the latter).
These decluttering outbursts happen to me regularly, and it’s not about trying to be the perfect homemaker or impress anyone. Honestly, I’m just trying to keep my own anxiety in check. I don’t care what others think of my home; I care about maintaining my mental health.
While I strive to be laid-back about the chaos that comes with raising kids, it’s hard to ignore the mess. I don’t even freak out when my kids leave the toilet seat up (which is a daily occurrence). Shoes? They’re everywhere. And the piles of random craft supplies and irrelevant paperwork? They’re just part of the landscape. I try to convince myself that we’re creating memories, but let’s be real—we’re just making a mess.
Eventually, the chaos builds up, and it spirals out of control. It’s not just the accumulation of items; it’s the laundry that never makes it to the basket, the socks that end up wherever they please, and the endless clutter of toys, empty cups, and wrappers that seem to multiply overnight.
The clutter and chaos trigger my underlying anxiety, and soon, I find myself on the verge of an emotional explosion: “AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO SEES THIS MESS?! CAN’T ANYONE ELSE PICK UP AFTER THEMSELVES?!” Deep breath. Okay.
I know it’s irrational to feel this way about a few stray library books or backpacks that never make it to their designated hooks. It’s just part of life with kids. But if I trip over another shoe or discover another pile of broken crayons on the floor, I might just lose it. Seriously, I’m at my wit’s end with the constant mess.
There are shoes littered everywhere—by the back door, in the hallway, even in the bathroom. And don’t even get me started on the cereal crumbs scattered throughout the kitchen, as if someone is leaving a trail for a secret visitor. And the baseball cards? They’re everywhere—on the counter, in the bathroom, and yes, even in the fridge.
I can handle a bit of dirt, and I’m not looking to impress anyone, but the daily clutter is slowly driving me mad.
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In summary, while I embrace the chaos that comes with family life, the clutter can be overwhelming. It’s essential to find a balance to keep anxiety at bay and maintain a sense of peace amidst the everyday disorder.