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Today (or rather yesterday really since I am up way too late again) was pretty productive. I managed to get a lot of cleaning/organization done. I even managed to work with my older daughter to get her room mostly clean. Hopefully I can get it and the common area (since we've undertaken the renovations about half of our house is now a single room that functions as the kitchen, den and dining room) fully tidied by the end of the weekend. Then next week I can try to focus on my room.
My room- and in particular my desk- are always the last areas to get clean. That part of my house is like the Alamo of mess, Clutter's Last Stand. (Though usually it seems to have the upper hand. As my husband points out periodically in dismay, my desk has bee in more or less the same horrendous state for weeks and months. I don't know that I've had the desk for multiple years, though it's definitely been besieged with junk for a LONG time.)
I feel like I am more functional and am getting better over time. Still I've acknowledged with chagrin that I've wished that I had been at this point much sooner. Shoulda, woulda, coulda. In any case, at least I am getting a better handle on things. I am not used to finishing bigger assignments. (That was one of my biggest weaknesses in school. Particularly in elementary school I remember hiding incomplete class and homework in my desk because I was ashamed at not having finished the assignments. I reasoned within myself that I'd finish them and then submit them for grading, but I didn't want my teacher to see how much half finished worksheets and other assignments were squirreled away there because I was afraid I'd be yelled it if I were found out.) Perhaps this is starting to change, after all, I got past the obstacles keeping me from getting a driver's license. (Definitely a collaborative effort where I received a lot of help from good friends.)
Funny I spent so much time mentioning that stuff when I initially planned on just giving a short update on what I've learned about my mom. Up til this past Thursday my mom was in the [psychiatric] hospital for the last month. This may sound horrible, and sure it's not ideal, but for my mom that is probably one of the best places for her to end up.
She wound up hospitalized because she was paranoid, hallucinating that her HVAC system was being poisoned, ran amok in her home, and attempted to open her window to get fresh air. It just happens that her home is the third floor of an apartment/ condominium complex. So understandably when this sixty some year old woman started flipping out, onlookers are going to reasonably assume she's unstable and may be a suicide risk. What's amazing to me is that:
-while in the hospital my mom agreed to med management (as far back as I can remember she's never been ok with something like this. When I was first diagnosed with depression my dad had to hide my antidepressants and deoderant because in her mind a drug is a drug is a drug, which to her meant it may as well been labeled poison.) I'll have to write more later- finally started getting sleep and unable to type legibly.
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