“Out damned spot!!!” I think incessantly as I anxiously try to rub away the scuff marks on my staircase. I cover my rag in acetone, trying to hold my breath to avoid inhaling it in, but the scent is too strong; I cough as I move my aching arm back and forth.
It’s been like this for days. I’m losing control of the situation around me and I retreat to cleaning. It seems like every inch of this house is covered in dirt and every time I think I’ve mopped and vacuumed enough, more spots show up. I’m dipping q-tips in more acetone to eliminate the tiniest of marks. But it’s not enough. There are so many marks through out the house that my anxiety is ramped up because I don’t think I’ll ever be done cleaning.
I clean and I cry and I wonder why am I the only one that gives a shit about the details? Why couldn’t the previous homeowners have helped in any way??? They’re gone and I’m left to fix the mess and eliminate the stench they left behind.
I don’t know when I’m going to be able to see my family again. There’s no timeline for when this all ends and the black nothingness and uncertainty is a heavy burden to bear. I’m trying to stay focused and remain productive if not positive but my laundry list is growing and I can’t make progress because there are too many spots. I’m running out of acetone; I can’t leave the house. I’m suffocated by the chemicals and my own ineffectiveness. My sense of time is warped where hours are days and days are months and the months are never ending.
I’m not in a place to spread positivity right now but I desperately care that you are all ok. That you are all better than I am. I want to be strong for you, to be a light, to be a support. I need to know that I am helping in some way or all these efforts are meaningless. I refuse to accept meaninglessness on top of all of this other bullshit.
Please know that I love you, more than anything. And it’s ok if you’re not ok. But I’m not perfect and it’s hard for me to stay consistent. I can promise you that I am trying and that I am thinking of you, even when it hurts me to show it. I want you to know that there is light in my life, but my heart is heavy. I also made a promise to you and I am committing to it. More blog posts are coming. Talk soon.