What Is My Problem?

I think I’ve just had an epiphany!

Do you ever wonder if we really stop to assess our lives often enough? Have you ever had a moment when you realized there are things you’ve been well aware of but never really given due thought? With me it is like there is a whole other level of awareness, things I know but never really see for what they are, never examine.

This morning I had an email from an old friend. I’m tempted to say it made me stop and think, but in a sense that’s not right. It would be more to the point to say it made me realize what I already knew but never gave due consideration.

My diagnosis tends to be somewhat fluid, changing and evolving over time. But the essential components, officially, are generalized anxiety disorder, agoraphobia, social phobia. One can certainly argue that we pigeon-hole diagnoses, forcing things to fit neatly into a category whether they in fact do or not. But nothing in my official diagnosis would seem to explain certain other mysteries of my life.

Take, for example, the pens lying on my desk. I keep two of them handy, one with blue ink, the other black. I’ve never really thought about how often I check the alignment of the pens to see that they are placed just so on the desk. But I am well aware of it. The pens are the first thing I check in the morning when I sit down to do my email session. If Boo has knocked them askew during the night, they must be properly adjusted before I can concentrate on anything. I check them many times throughout the day, and after I use one I always put it back just so. The pens must be perfectly parallel to each other, both clips at the top facing the same way (usually to the left, but it doesn’t really matter). They must not, however, be parallel to the edge of the desk or any other item on the desk! Oddly it doesn’t seem to matter as much how the various notes and bits of paper may be situated on the desk. I would greatly prefer there not be any such clutter, but invariably there is despite my aversion to it. Clearly this thing with the pens is more akin to obsessive-compulsive disorder if we seek to pigeon-hole it.

In fact a great many of my struggles and mood difficulties are not related to the often discussed anxiety centering around dealing with other people. I know that. But do I ever stop to really think about it? I feel much better emotionally and even physically when my surroundings are clean and tidy, with no or minimal clutter. Books and magazines should all be neatly placed in the bookshelves; devices, DVDs, CDs neatly arranged in the entertainment center and no unrelated items placed there; kitchen utensils should be, to the extent possible, stored out of sight so as to minimize cluttered appearance, and no items not belonging in a kitchen should ever be left there; the house should be clean and tidy, dust kept to an absolute minimum.

The trouble is, I find it absolutely impossible to maintain order. I don’t think I’m a lazy person. I will spend long days working on a home improvement or hobby labor project. I cleared nearly half an acre of dense forest summer before last, in an area where no vehicles or heavy machinery could be used. I dug a basement under my house by hand, removing all the dirt with a small shovel and a bucket. I will gladly go and help others with manual labor if asked. How can I be lazy? Yet try as I might I cannot seem to keep up with the house work. I will put things down in a place they don’t belong to avoid ten extra steps to put them away properly. I will neglect dusting and other such chores. Eventually things get to an intolerable state of disarray and I will force myself to tidy up, but I am malcontent while doing it – irritable, unhappy, forcing myself to do the work but hating every moment of it. I do feel much better when it is done however.  This is an ongoing battle with me. I  know beyond any doubt I will feel better if everything is kept neat and clean, yet I cannot force myself to keep it that way. What is my problem? Should it really be so hard to put things back in their proper place, or to spend five minutes a day dusting? Part of the horror of dusting is that there is always clutter in the way!

It’s not just the house work. It affects my ability to enjoy my hobby too. Over the years I have put a great deal of expense and effort into building up my ham radio setup. I thoroughly enjoy making lots of contacts with far away places on the radio. I find it relaxing, a good diversion from stress and anxiety. But the hobby has a dark side: paperwork! Hams exchange what amount to specialized post cards (they are called QSL cards) which provide written “confirmation” of a contact made on the radio. Hams seek these cards and use them to “prove” they have made contacts for purposes of obtaining awards (certificates and in some cases plaques) recognizing certain accomplishments. For example there is a certificate for having submitted evidence of having contacted hams in all fifty U.S. states; another for having confirmed contacts with 100 countries, with endorsements available for higher country totals up to the very prestigious level of having contacted them all (341 at present, I think).

I have worked hard to build a capable radio station and to make some very challenging contacts, because I want some of those awards for my wall. Yet I simply cannot force myself to do the necessary paperwork. It is a source of constant stress, aggravation , and extreme frustration. I dread the work of sending for QSL cards I need to such an extent that I feel physically ill just thinking about it. Actually doing it is a miserable process. So I don’t. It’s not just sending out requests for the cards I desperately want. I get requests from those I contact who need my card to confirm it. I struggle constantly and miserably to keep up, but am almost always shamefully delinquent. I am once again at the point of curtailing my beneficial on air activities because the paperwork is too distressing. What the hell is my problem?

I cannot quite describe that affect these tasks have on me. It is anxiety, or feels the same. But why I would be so anxious about these simple tasks is unfathomable. I have no theories on the matter. I will be taking this up with my therapist at the earliest opportunity. It will be interesting to see if he has any thoughts, though I don’t expect to fully understand this anytime soon.

As soon as I get the house in a winter-ready state (or as close to it as possible)  I absolutely must get the inside organized. I’m constantly told my house is far less cluttered than many, and I know that to be true. I have seen a good many houses with a great deal more clutter than mine on its worst day. But at present, things here have become so messy that I cannot even think clearly. There is no doubt my mind tends to mimic its surroundings. Cluttered surroundings, cluttered mind. I hope also to make a “run” at the backlog of QSL cards, though I dread that more than anything.