As I was cleaning my bathroom yesterday, for the first time in weeks (yes, you read correctly, I said weeks. There have been times before when I could have typed months.), I was thinking about what I wanted to type here. I finally decided I would just go with the flow, especially since you can count on one hand the number of people who will be reading this at first. I'm trying to figure out how to get the word out while keeping this completely anonymous. It's a way to keep myself accountable...a way to vent and work through some feelings...and a way to fight through the shame. Maybe I can help someone else going through similar pain...or maybe I can help bring some awareness to others who have no idea what this is like or how prevalent it really is.

Intervention

It's a word I'm all too familiar with. I'm married to an addict, after all. While we never had to do a full blown true intervention to gain his attention and sobriety, we did what I would consider shades of one several times. Being involved in recovery, we are familiar with what it entails. If I ever thought I would be a part of one, I would be one of the ones giving it, certainly not receiving it. But that's exactly what Sunday afternoon was...an intervention...and I was on the receiving end.

Squalor

Such an ugly word! I mean seriously, have you ever seen such filth, disgust, and ickiness in one word? Squalor. Just say that word--one word--and someone shivers. There is no doubt to its meaning, nor the depth of it. Beyond clutter, beyond disorganization, and even beyond chaos. Most women consider their house a source of pride, a safe haven. We are always encouraged to let the housework go to spend time with our families...the dust will wait. Well, some of us have taken "let it go" to a whole new level. When that word comes up, most of us would think of the slums, living near the dumpster in the worst part of town, bugs and rats, sewage and slime. But like so many well-kept and dark secrets, I've learned this affects everyone from the worst part of town to the best, those with one-room apartments and those with 5 million dollar mansions, those with no kids and those with ten, women who work 60 hours a week and women who stay home full time.


I know I'm not alone. But there is still much shame to work through.


Baby Steps

Those words have never meant so much to me as they have now. I have so much to overcome; if I think about it too much, I feel so very overwhelmed. I knew right away it was going to have to be baby steps. When my husband and I talked and finally faced up to the enormity of our problem, we decided our game plan would be one baby step each day. Our schedules are absolutely PACKED, so it hasn't worked quite like I wanted, but we are still making progress. I've got a tween and a teen in the house, both involved with sports, each with their own paper routes. Hubby works full time as do I, and we both also have a couple of very part time jobs. Just getting the evening meal ready is daunting under those circumstances in a normal house...try doing it in a filthy one, and it becomes like trying to wade through quicksand. So, if I can't even tread water, how am I supposed to swim the channel? The answer is to take a few strokes and then tread water for a few minutes...stroke, stroke, stroke, tread water, float, stroke, stroke, stroke, tread water, float...you get the idea. An important part of that is that those strokes can be normal free style strokes, or they can be equivalent to the dog paddle...whatever I feel up to at the time.

When hubby and I were forming our game plan and setting some goals, he starting pushing a little too much too soon. I just knew I wouldn't get done what he was suggesting. It was important to get him to back up and be realistic. If I'm not realistic with myself, then I would get discouraged....and quickly.

It's going to be hard to find the balance between baby steps and laziness. When do I push, and when do I back off and remain glad for what's happened so far? When is backing off reasonable and when is it an excuse to meander off the path, off-track from my goals? Hopefully I'll find out while making progress each day. You know, even maintaining will be progress for me.

Progress

Speaking of progress, what progress have we made so far? Well, mold and mildew are no longer finding the "vacancy" sign out in our bathroom. The carpeting on my husband's side of the bed has seen daylight for the first time in months, the first layer of clothes on my side of the bedroom floor have been put away, into the hamper, or into a bag for Goodwill. The mountain of dishes has become a molehill. And the first layer of grime has been wiped from counters and the stovetop.

The reason only top layers have been done in some areas is because we had to do some emergency cleaning as a couple was dropping by to view a piece of furniture we were selling. Even just starting this whole process helped with that. We have torn up our smelly non-salvagable bathroom carpet, and hubby painted the floor to lock in the odor. The stuff he painted on, though, was quite potent, temporarily covering up the overall rank smell of squalor that has managed to penetrate our home. (That was another part of the intervention that rocked my world...our house smelled like a slum and a pet sewer combined.) A combination of our brief surface cleaning, the potent paint smell, along with some clever shifts in clutter allowed us to tell this couple that we were in the process of several home projects, so please ignore our mess. They not only bought our story, but also bought the piece we were selling. Praise God!

One day at a time, I will get through this, and I will come out cleaner on the other side. Some days it will feel like running, some like walking, some like crawling, and some like standing still. But hopefully the overall feeling will be one of progress, not perfection. If you're still reaing this, watch for daily posts that will vary in length from a sentence or two to long essays. Feel free to post your encouragement...leave any discouraging words on your own blog.