An observation

It's very sad when you don't want to go home.

Home is supposed to be peaceful, full of love, a place where you find comfort, rest, pride & joy. Yet, I hate going to my home. (Not my Texas home). It's chaos beyond measure. I dread going home to the mess, the fights, the questions, the lack of privacy. The misery that I find there is just sometimes unbearable. I've often said that I hate the way we live in our house. It's supposed to be our biggest & proudest investment, but I'm ashamed of it. I don't let people in the door when they try come over, I stand on the porch to talk to them. Those that have been in are strictly warned of the mess, and that's after I've run around like a mad woman driving myself & anyone in the house batshit crazy to get it even remotely fit for outsiders. I place so much of the blame and the burden to fix it on myself. So because of that heavy, never ending blame & burden I avoid doing anything. I hide myself off into the world of books, movies, TV, internet, or crafting so that for just a little while I don't "see" the mess. It's not there in any of those places.

Don't get me wrong we aren't an episode of "hoarders", but somedays I wish for a bulldozer to just come thru & take it all away so I don't have to deal with it. In all honesty, it really isn't that bad, but for me, my sanity and my "normal", it's bad. It needs a small army of people,a few days of hard work & some $$$ to get our home the way I want it. That's just for the clutter. That doesn't even include the cosmetic and maintenance issues that need to be addressed. Part of it I can fix & plan on doing so in the near future, (That's another blog for another day), but some of it I either have to learn to live with or find a way to get everyone on board to change it. That too is another blog for another day.