If you haven't read Sally Cragin's (a.k.a. Symboline Dai) astrology column (quoted and linked above), you're missing out. She uses moon signs along with your standard sun signs, which I find most fascinating. I have always had a thing about the moon, even before I found out that Cynthia was a moon goddess. So reading a column that incorporates the moon more than many others is very interesting to me. And when I see predictions like the quote above while I wait and wait to hear when I will finally start working again, my belief that we have a lot more influences on us than simple genetics and environment is reaffirmed. I am a May-born Gemini, by the way. My only hope now is that I am working before the end of the month!
When I talked about house-cleaning a lot more and getting rid of junk in my basement, Sally gave me advice on when best to do that. I still follow that advice, and things are better than when I started if not as better as I'd like. My problem now is that once I get the stuff packed away to throw out or take for donation, it still manages to hang around in the basement, only in bags and boxes instead of strewn about the place. I always tell myself I'm going to pack everything up and take it in, but I don't do it. I don't know why it's so hard to break that last thread.
I haven't been in the basement since I first got home from vacation, so it's not like I'm plagued by these many bags and boxes I need to get rid of. But I know they're down there, and it bothers me. I also know I should be down there too, continuing to clean and rid myself of all the crap we have. But I've been so overwhelmed with everything that I find it impossibly daunting. I have a hard time convincing myself to wash out the grinder in my coffee maker every morning, so doing real work just seems too too hard.
It needs done though. I got a recommendation in my guestbook to visit Flylady again. I don't remember who first referred me to her, but after that I signed up for all the lists and got the daily reminders and all the inspirational messages. I cleaned and cleaned, made my bed, wiped out my sink and put on my shoes. I had a great system, until I skipped a day here and a day there until they all melded together. I tried again and again, getting back on the horse. It always worked for a while, but then I'd find myself slacking, angrily deleting those bothersome reminders that kept filling my inbox. I've thought about going back. I really have. It worked when I tried even a little bit, but I got tired of falling down over and over. Lately, I think I'm related to Jessica Simpson (Which who knows? I don't know anything about bio dad. Wouldn't that be a kick in the pants?) and just doomed to be the worst slob on Earth. I can't afford a maid though, especially when I'm not working.
What I really think is my problem is all my emotional issues take over my entire life, and I am paralyzed by them. I'm sad all the time. It's hard to get excited about cleaning when you're sad all the time. When I'd feel better, I'd always clean really well, but I'd get sad again, and everything would fall to shit. So I don't think it's that I'm inherently lazy. I had a spotless room when I was in high school and college. I have a deep need for organization. I'm just bowled over by the waves of emotion that slosh inside me. You can tell by the melodrama, no?
I debate posting pictures of my grand mess of a house. I was often motivated by the humiliation they caused. Just as having electricians and heating/cooling guys come in for estimates and witness the disaster that we call home. I would clean for a minimum of two days afterward. But I doubt having people come over would work for long. I'd get used to it and end up saying, "Screw it." Just like every year we have the family over for birthday parties, the house is a little shabbier each time. I get used to the embarassment, or rather, I internalize it and end up feeling worse about myself because I can't even manage to pick up my own house. You know how in movies, prisoners or castaways like to keep those tally marks on the wall, and by the time they escape or get rescued, the tally marks look like a funky type of wallpaper? The interior of my head is wallpapered in all-the-things-that-make-me-feel-bad tally marks.
I'm hoping that medication will help all this too. I'll stop being my own worst enemy. Yesterday, John asked me if I would like to go to counseling instead of him. I'd made up my mind though, he would keep his appointment, and I would keep mine. I figured he would go in and talk about me the whole time after that huge crying episode I had over the weekend, but he said they talked about his childhood. I believe him, since he was acting like nothing was wrong when he was clearly unhappy, something he always does when therapy touches a nerve. I usually get happier after those kinds of excavations, but I haven't been avoiding my emotions all my life.
John's been in a bit of a mood the past few days anyway. This usually happens when I'm in one of my moods. His reaction gets old. He was great on Sunday, but that's as far as it went. I haven't seen that caring side of him since. I need him to deal with this better. I know we're getting there, but it doesn't help me at all when I'm depressed and isolated. Being depressed is quite enough.
My animals are all prowling around me because I haven't fed them yet. I'm ready to have them all freeze-dried and mounted. It appears to be barf week around here, and I'm getting tired of listening to it, stepping in it, and cleaning it up. But I really can't starve them to death, so I suppose I better feed them and myself as well.
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One Year Ago Today:
Tomorrow
