Ok, so I'm going to go on record here and note that I've got a mild case of anxiety and some OCD. No, I'm not "officially" diagnosed, but I have been tested for anxiety, and I've got social anxiety that translated into test taking anxiety all through school. So, ways I deal with it (since no medication really worked for me) was through meditation/relaxation techniques and keeping some order in what I can control. Like my living space.
Well, got a notice on my door few days ago that my complex is doing a mandatory pest control fumigation thing. No refusals will be accepted. However, WE, as residents, are required to take certain steps to prepare for this.
1. Move ALL furniture away from the walls.
2. Empty all cabinets under kitchen sink and bathroom sink
3. Empty all cupboards and pantry
4. Clean off all countertops in kitchen and bathroom
5. After treatment, residents and pets must vacate for 3-4 hours.
So, PROBLEMS. I'm not a complete neat freak "omg you moved a shoe, you BASTARD" kind of person, but I like keeping my house clean and I'm being made to throw it into disarray. Plus, by doing this, it reminds me how my place looked when it was broken into a while back so that's upped the anxiety. Plus, my dining room table, couch, and every surface that's NOT ordered to be cleared is cluttered and covered and I have so much shit I don't know where to put it. Also, I can't move a few pieces of furniture by myself, like my entertainment center and my dresser?? It took THREE PEOPLE to get them shifted around in the first place!
I had some anxiety attacks last night (technically, one long attack...?) And I'm still not done. I still have to clean under the sinks, get the rest of my pans from over the stove, clean off the counters and whatnot.
Except i can't cook anything, and I can't look at anything out there without going really frantic and feeling like I have to clean and clean and clean and start crying and getting anxious. I can't. Right now, I know I need to nuke something for dinner, but I've been sitting in the middle of my bed since i got home from work (yeah, rearranged the bedroom, too, to accommodate this) because it's the cleanest room in the house.
wolfie is trying to get me to get up and finish, and he was on skype with me last night during the meltdowns, because at one point I was of the mindset "I have too much shit. I need to throw it all away, wtf do I have all this for, it's causing such a MESS!"
Looks like he's gonna be doing so again tonight.
I don't wanna. But I have no choice. Unless I provide medical evidence that the chemicals they use are detrimental to my health, I am required to go through with it with per the lease I signed.
Hate hate hate hate hate.
And hate.
Must move, can't move. So I'm babbling here instead.
Well, got a notice on my door few days ago that my complex is doing a mandatory pest control fumigation thing. No refusals will be accepted. However, WE, as residents, are required to take certain steps to prepare for this.
1. Move ALL furniture away from the walls.
2. Empty all cabinets under kitchen sink and bathroom sink
3. Empty all cupboards and pantry
4. Clean off all countertops in kitchen and bathroom
5. After treatment, residents and pets must vacate for 3-4 hours.
So, PROBLEMS. I'm not a complete neat freak "omg you moved a shoe, you BASTARD" kind of person, but I like keeping my house clean and I'm being made to throw it into disarray. Plus, by doing this, it reminds me how my place looked when it was broken into a while back so that's upped the anxiety. Plus, my dining room table, couch, and every surface that's NOT ordered to be cleared is cluttered and covered and I have so much shit I don't know where to put it. Also, I can't move a few pieces of furniture by myself, like my entertainment center and my dresser?? It took THREE PEOPLE to get them shifted around in the first place!
I had some anxiety attacks last night (technically, one long attack...?) And I'm still not done. I still have to clean under the sinks, get the rest of my pans from over the stove, clean off the counters and whatnot.
Except i can't cook anything, and I can't look at anything out there without going really frantic and feeling like I have to clean and clean and clean and start crying and getting anxious. I can't. Right now, I know I need to nuke something for dinner, but I've been sitting in the middle of my bed since i got home from work (yeah, rearranged the bedroom, too, to accommodate this) because it's the cleanest room in the house.
wolfie is trying to get me to get up and finish, and he was on skype with me last night during the meltdowns, because at one point I was of the mindset "I have too much shit. I need to throw it all away, wtf do I have all this for, it's causing such a MESS!"
Looks like he's gonna be doing so again tonight.

I don't wanna. But I have no choice. Unless I provide medical evidence that the chemicals they use are detrimental to my health, I am required to go through with it with per the lease I signed.
Hate hate hate hate hate.
And hate.
Must move, can't move. So I'm babbling here instead.


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