Is it because when I am asked to do chores, I feel like that little kid again, trying to earn my parents love and approval?
I swear, the words that most echo thru my head are "clean your room", "vacuum that floor", "pickup those dirty clothes"....etc. is that really the way parents should be remembered? I felt like such a tool. I refuse to instill such remembrances upon my kids.
I know it's probably my PTSD talking.....dirty dishes+cluttered table= losing love and favor=feeling worthless.
Really? Is that my lot in life? Is this my worth? My ability to clean and pick up after myself?
Fuck that shit.
I'm tired of living by someone else's warped rules of worthiness. If that's my main value, I don't buy it. I'm not a child who needs orders and direction. Im tired of being maid and servant. Maybe I like a half-cluttered room overflowing with this creation and that project. I'm a visual thinker. If it isn't in my field of vision, it doesnt exist. More fodder for my ideal home as being one large room, with partial walls. My seat, the central location would allow me to survey and keep in sight all that is going on.
Hmm, I have seriously entertained the idea of using paper plates and plastic forks, cept I'm a tree hugging Aspie who can't tolerate plastic silverware or the idea that a tree had to die for me.
I'm just a strange bird who doesn't need the paper at the bottom of her cage cleaned religiously.
Just continuing to clean out the garbage of the past. Trying to make sense of the damnedest things.
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