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xfundy

(5,105 posts)
4. Trails in the Apartment
Wed Feb 1, 2012, 06:39 PM
Feb 2012

It became increasingly difficult to respond to the obvious—my apartment had become a complete mess. No rats or bugs, thank goodness. At least that I know of.

Dealing with it seemed overwhelming; I knew that just starting somewhere, a small area, shouldn't be a big deal, but, as my mind remained unable to focus, still racing constantly, I reasoned that, yes, the small area would be cleaner, but that's a part of the bigger problem, and even starting in the small area produced great emotional distress.

My desk was piled full of papers and unopened mail, some of it bills, which I usually had to force myself to open at some time close to the due date. And letters from the IRS, which I was unable to open until five years later.

They've been piling up again lately, reminding me I didn't file in 2000, which was a good year, monetarily, but as I was in the middle of a breakdown, I. just. couldn't. do. it. And it's still unresolved 11 years later. Thanks to "the miracle of interest," the IRS wanted over $100,000, but it's down to about $85,000 now, as they grabbed some money I had in bank accounts in the mid-00s. (Please, no lectures. I know.)

Taking out the trash posed an enormous problem. There was a trash chute down the hall, no more than 20 steps outside my door. Too far. I tried to remember to take a few bags when I went out for food, to do laundry, etc., and sometimes I did. Usually I didn't.

Newspapers were stacked everywhere, as were microwavable tv dinner boxes, computer-related boxes, CDs, videotapes, used printer paper, and bags and bags of garbage. As I sat at my desk, which I did for hours or days at a time, trash confined my chair as I stepped over it to get there.

There were trails from the bed to the bathroom to the kitchen to my desk to the couch in front of the tv; I had a remote, so trash was piled in front of the sofa and I had to kick stuff around if I wanted to put in a video or CD.

There was a hallway I no longer used, unpassable, with a broken carved oak chair, more boxes, more trash. Since it ran parallel to the office area I kept to the trail running through there.

It was a nightmare, really, and every time I tried to make my way through virtually any room save the bath, the obstacles compounded the stress caused by my inability to clean anything except the kitchen countertop. Actually, a small area of it in front of the microwave.

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