A new, sad film
I have a major problem. I am a very messy person and I have a cluttered and dirty house, and I am so ashamed of it. I have tried the FlyLady and other methods of lists and charts to get my home organized and clean, but I just don't have the motivation I need to stay with it. I get sick of it. I absolutely lack the motivation I need and I have never been able to figure out why I'm this way till I started focusing on my upbringing. I get lazy and I come up with a zillion excuses why I can't or don't have to start working around my house, and I can fall asleep on the couch or relax watching TV with my home in total shambles, and I can do this without a bit of guilt or shame, thinking, "I'll get to it later." Yet, I hate myself for it, and want a clean house so badly. My own mother...I feel like I have become her. She was the sweetest, kindest thing, and the best cook, but she was totally disorganized and never cleaned house ever, and did me a great disservice as a child growing up around this kind of environment. I can truthfully say I never saw my mother mopping. She didn't give me regular chores or expect anything out of me. We only cleaned house once or twice a year when we were getting company from out of town. She would decide to wash the curtains, and take all the curtains down and make a huge mess that took her two days to get through. She would be sewing and mending the curtains and making a big production out of this chore, washing and pressing for hours. The housework ended up being my sister's and my responsibility, and we would split the rooms. I was only 9 or 10 years old so I was clueless as to what to do. Every surface was covered with odds and ends, every kind of thing from paper clips to gum wrappers, to unopened mail to coupons, to notes and broken pens, to toothpicks and small spills from last week's coffee mug. One time, a nice guy, the grandson of a family that belonged to our church, who was going to college in our town gave me a ride home from school when I was a senior. I had a crush on him and this was great, having him be so nice and attentive, but when we got to my home, he insisted on going in to say hello to my mom. I could have died. My mom could care less, like her red face nerves had been permanently severed. She always opened the door wide and took people through the path to the kitchen without a bit of shame over the condition of her house. This time with the cute guy, my parents had been to another auction sale a day or two earlier, and had bought a bunch of old pieces of furniture, some, I guess, were antiques. They were in the truck and out in the garage, but somehow that day, they decided to bring them all into the house. You could barely get in the front door. My mom had the house darkened so you could barely see. This old smelly furniture was everywhere, there wasn't even a pathway. We just stood inside the door talking to my mother who couldn't get to us either and just spoke to him from across all the furniture. I could have died from embarrassment. I always felt like something was wrong with my parents, they thought differently than the parents of my friends, and they were a lot older. They saved everything because they grew up in the depression and felt everything had a hidden value of some sort. Our garage was so full of junk, it was piled to the ceiling and we couldn't put our vehicles in there. When my sister and I cleaned house for this company that came once or twice a year, the one rule we had to abide by was not to throw anything out. The company rarely STAYED at our home, and sometimes we only visited elsewhere, so I always wondered what was the point of cleaning. I feel this way now, like what is the point, when I would rather do other things. I expect my 11 year old daughter to keep her room clean and picked up, but she never does it, and i get frustrated ad angry, but she is only following my example, and her room looks like the rest of the house. My room is a mess, and there is only a pathway to my bed, which is piled with "stuff". I would die if people, my friends, ever knew how I really live. What can I do? What is the answer, the motivator that makes a person get off their butts and do something? It seems that would be absolutely hating living like this, having this lifestyle, which I do, but I guess really don't mind in some ways. My problems is, I liked never having chores or responsibility when I was young, I enoyed sitting around in a messy house with my feet up, eating watermelon and talking with my mom. I learned to be relaxed in a huge mess and I can't seem to get over this. I really want a clean and neat home, I dream of it, but I can't stick with routines, the motivation seems to leave. Any ideas?