More on "freezing"

[beandelphiki]

This evening as dinner came to an end, my mom looked at the time, and swore. "Shit, if I'm getting to the airport on time to pick up your aunt-" (nope, don't remember where she's coming back from) "-I had better leave right away. Can you kids clean up the kitchen and put everything away?"

And I felt this brief, but sharp bolt of terror. But I couldn't possibly let on - not even to my mother, who doesn't seem to want me to move out in a timely fashion, and doesn't seem to care if she drives me everywhere, despite her words to the contrary - that I was scared of such a simple task.

Clean the kitchen. Put leftover food away. Load the dishwasher. Conclude the meal.

So simple. You'd have to be a complete fucking idiot to screw it up; even a non-domestic guy like me should be able to handle this. Could you admit to being scared?

So I said:

"Sure, Mom, I'll do it." Because, realistically, my sister wasn't going to help much. "No problem."

"Great, thanks. I'm just going to go upstairs and get ready, and I'll be leaving in a minute." And with that, she zipped up to her bedroom and shut the door.



I finished eating, reflecting on my fear. Maybe it was because of that "paralysis of the will" post I so recently made, but suddenly the whole thing seemed very clear:

I was afraid I was going to "freeze" again when I saw the trashed kitchen and the (relatively minor) amount of work I would have to do to clean it up. I would find some little thing to do "first," end up completely distracted and then totally forget about the kitchen.

(Sometimes, I think I really forget things like this, and other times it's a symptom of the freezing. Either way, I've been yelled at many times by my parents, who simply can't believe that I really "forgot" something that they told me to do, "ONLY 30 SECONDS AGO!")

I was scared that if this happened, my mom would go out, and come back and discover the still-messy kitchen, and the half-finished meals congealing on plates, and then I would be Completely and Utterly Exposed as...what? A total failure? A lazy slob? A bad person, really.

And why shouldn't I feel like a bad person, like a failure? The "paralysis of will" thing...this is not simply restricted to not doing my taxes. (Which is irrelevant at the moment, because I've never managed to get a "real job.") This shows up in nearly every aspect of my life. Minor examples (I'd rather not go into major ones just now):

-I come home from shopping for new clothes, and instead of taking the tags off and hanging them up or washing them, new clothes end up on the floor until I'm out of clean clothes. I know it's a simple, almost totally painless task, but I can't do it.

-I can't send mail. I can't. Ask siegeengine - he knows I managed it once. Oh, and once I sent a letter to Santa as a child, and once a letter to a "penpal" I never replied to again. That brings my grand total to three.

-It can take me hours to respond to people on a day when I know I need to call them and tell them that I'll either be or not be at some party or gathering. The only thing that moves me in this situation is knowing how selfish it is to sit and stare at the phone, never moving, and letting the other person wonder if they'll ever hear from you. Of course, I frequently just plain forget there was a party/gathering at all, which is even worse.

Several months ago, I bought a wipe-able whiteboard for my bedroom. I was absolutely thrilled by this purchase - I'd never forget to call anyone again! I hung it with exquisite care on my wall, making sure it was perfectly straight, and put several differently colored whiteboard pens in a plastic container nearby, with several pieces of tissue. I was so proud of myself the first handful of times I carefully wrote reminders to myself on the whiteboard. Finally, I'd found a solution to my horrible memory for things I had to do.

Then I started to forget to check the whiteboard.


I know people have mentioned coping strategies, and I want to try them and see if they work. But I'm such a results-oriented person. I despair that there's no step-by-step, infallible solution. I hate myself for this, and I want it all to change, solidly.

---

After Mom went upstairs and I'd finished eating, I gathered my dishes and took them to the side of the sink, then stood at the counter for a moment and surveyed what had to be done. I was just scared I couldn't keep it together long enough to get things finished, even if I could get them started.

I went and stood by the table, trying to determine what should be thrown out and what should be packaged up. Part of my problem is that I'm not familiar with the decisions Mom makes in this regard, and I wanted to do it like she would. (I'm thinking the obvious solution here is to start helping out in the kitchen a lot more and learning how she does it, so I'm not wondering what the method is to her madness.) She came downstairs at that point, and I asked her.

Once she had pointed out exactly what needed to be packaged up and put where, things were much easier, and I got it all done after she left.

I'm thinking one of the biggest problems I'm having is the perfectionist indecisiveness about how to do things, which just invites a freeze-up.