I am so depressed about the state of my house that just reading a page of this thread is giving me agita. I am neat by nature and it affects my wellbeing when things are not.
I cannot bake something, for example, unless the kitchen is clean. I cannot sit down to pay bills unless the dining room table is spotless. I make the bed when I get out of it. I always put away my clothes in the hampers, hang up stuff, swish the sink after brushing my teeth.
But I live with three slobs and a dog and a cat, and I work full time and commute four hours round trip every day.
I come home to filth and chaos every day. And I loathe it. Nobody but me cares if the dishes aren’t done. Nobody but me puts anything away, closes cabinet doors, takes something out of packaging and puts the trash in the garbage. Nobody but me notices spills on the floor. Nobody but me notices leaves tracked in from outside, towels dumped on the floor, laundry sitting around in piles all week, left in the dryer, left stinking in the washer.
We have cleaners who come once every two weeks. So on the night I come home after they’ve been, the house is awesome. Two days later, it’s like they were never there.
It’s so overwhelming that I have to avert my eyes to maintain my sanity. Today, I have to work. Leaving in half an hour. I spent an hour just walking around the house putting stuff away and in the garbage. That’s all. Nothing else. I beg and I wheedle and I bribe and I nag and about once every few months I freaking lose it and have a full-on meltdown and sob and take to my bed, and then the family snaps to and promises to do better and things are OK for about a week.
The only good thing is that I work so much that nobody ever comes here to visit us. Who knows what my kids’ friends think - luckily they’re still teenagers, so probably they don’t notice much.
I think that was cathartic. Thanks for letting me vent.