I often wonder/presume my ADHD (or something) counters my autism, in so far as it making the torture of the mess not present (as I imagine/observe in some autistic people). It also does not help with making a start on it. I don’t really see the mess, merely peripherally aware by deduction (so “wallowing” may have been misleading ~ it does not bother me, but I still feel the pressure from social expectation to do something about it (and that bothers me more ~ as well as contribute to the demand avoidance log-jam)). Things are where I put them, so I know where they are.

I’ve been trying for a couple years to get help tidying, since it has proven beyond my abilities; beyond several hurdles (and when I get past one [like physical ailments], I discover I’m still unable with more hurdles [like the executive dysfunction and demand avoidance]), but have so far failed at getting help too ([because, “hurdles”]) ~ or even getting someone to help me to get help. The aspiring idea being to hire a team to help, to get it all done at once, “rip the band-aid off”, rather than a prolonged suffering of some things moving, and not knowing where everything is, from the little bits of help here and there a rare few times from friends and family.

There’s a lot of little things that get taken care of, as necessity, to keep things functioning (like cleaning my blender jug and lid straight away, as part of the process of using it to make food ~ less demanding than later cleaning the dried goop left on it), but still “clutter” accumulates wherever else is not the minimum required spaces to do things. Much of it’s not really “clutter”, and more just the stuff I need around, preferring it kept at arm’s reach on the worktop, rather than out-of-sight-and-out-of-mind in cupboards that require extra effort (~ especially with the unreliable silly upwards opening cupboard doors I got left with here).

I had a visit from my uncle today (suspected fellow autistic ~ & mutually the relative we each get on best with in our family), who’s house is similarly chock-a-block “messy”. That’s a comfort. He’s even voiced his lack of concern about the mess, and how it feels at home for him, with his place “worse” with things being where he left them, in precarious piles all around, where one has to move carefully not to knock over. Much nicer than the (real or imagined) judgement of those who prefer this thing called “tidy” that I can barely conceive of (certainly not as they do), and who apparently find it easy to maintain that kind of “tidy” (which for the largest part I struggle to conceive of as anything other than making more work for themselves, with things they need “put away”, rather than on-hand).

When I got left here (about 5 years ago), the house was bare. And that in part left an unease. I felt more need to fill it with things, useful things (e.g. edible plants in the conservatory, tools and things for health), so that I would (and do) feel more at peace with the stuff, rather than everything unnervingly bare. … But I know there are some areas that have tipped the balance the other way, from comforting efficiency to impeding getting some stuff done. I sometimes wonder if some of it is subconscious intent to self sabotage, so I don’t have to do some of those things, since they lead me back to trauma triggering things and places (from when I was deeply betrayed and [(psychologically tortured by being)] denied autonomy while being promised it ~ long story).

Hopefully some parts of that ramble helped answer the original question a bit better now too.

Now since I’ve reminded myself… I’m likely going to go have some PTSD flashback “fun”. (Strong sarcasm ~ it’s not fun).