I get on my knees and scrub the edges of floor furiously reaching for the little crease where all the dirt escapes into an abyss where the tile doesn’t quite meet the floorboards and I can imagine all the cat hair, dust and grime from mopping and sweeping accumulating to no retrieval. It’s disturbing how focused I can become on cleaning what I cannot see.
I walk through my home and feel the clutter. I feel tight. Feels like a vice is around my chest and I am constricted by throw pillows tossed about the cream leather sectional, accumulating mail on my desk, dishes piled in the sink, clothing strewn on my bedroom floor and magazines piled high on the espresso colored coffee table. The TV remote control isn’t immune to my angst. In fact there are times when I think my TV is too big, my dining table is too big and do I need a queen size bed? Perhaps a full size would be just fine and let’s get rid of this rug and these curtains…they’re collecting cat hair!
How many towels do I need? Am I going to fit into a size 4? Skinny jeans are in now; these slacks are from 2 seasons ago. Give them to Good Will. Discard clothing, shoes with heels too high and a little black dress that I’ll never fit into again. Get rid of lipstick that I haven’t used in a year now…is there such a thing as too red for this Latina? Apparently in PMDD, yes there is as I am still trying to discover who I am within this affliction. These sheets need to go…force myself to buy another set. I hate these picture frames hung along the hallway wall. I should have bought different styles. Why so matchy-matchy? What were you thinking buying this Art? Is it really art? Get rid of it.
This year in PMDD I’ve managed to help decorate my neighbors apartment. I’ve given away all the accents to my home and have made a clear space in my attempt to clear path for a constant flow of good energy. I’ve discarded my old view of sexy and I’ve donated thousands of dollars of clothing to goodwill. I bought a Dyson vacuum cleaner to help ease my mind about the dust and hair so I can breath. I remember my friends telling me that a Dyson would suck the tonsils out of my head. I knew I needed one of those and now I am a PMDD vacuuming maniac. It brings me great joy and peace. I call her Ava. (SMILE)
I try to understand my urge to purge in PMDD and sometimes all I can think is that it is a reaction to trying to gain some control over being out of control psychologically. I always feel like I’m loosing myself in PMDD. The PMDD is a visceral sensation that emanates through my nervous system. I feel tingly in my arms and I can almost touch air and feel it on my fingertips. When I am this sensitive the act of pushing around heaving furniture, discarding the mess, cleaning the grime away releases endorphins that make me feel useful and productive.
My home is my sanctuary. After I’ve cleaned and I sit on my sofa with a cup of tea I can breath in the freshness of the newness. I’ve stripped off a layer of guck and have a sense of a clean slate.