I answer to God.

I admit it.  I have hoarder tendencies.  My home is usually a mess.

I always thought it was 100% "my fault", but I gained an important insight tonight.  I have my areas of the house, and Ron has his.

Ron has always told me "I was completely tidy until I met you, but the house is so awful, who cares".  Variations of that.  Screaming at me, throwing me out in the middle of the night, raving, raving, screaming.

I could go on, but I don't believe in living a victimhood.  At any rate, his version of "helping" me as usually screaming at me, raving, and threatening to throw my work clothes in the dumpster - that kind of thing.  Not helpful at all.

I have tried to ask him for help, reasoning things out.  My big issues are 1.  Getting things when manic. 2.  Where do I put this?  and 3.  Hanging onto stuff I don't use.    4.  Getting rid of trash.

I have gotten very good at dealing with #1.  For instance, the last "good" mania I got a few selections of incense, which I keep in a shoe box.

I always need help with #2, but I've gotten better.  If it's involved in food prep, it should go in the kitchen.  Things I use rarely can go on a high cupboard shelf.  Medicated, probably my biggest issue "Where the heck do I put it?"  Figuring that out can be hard.  I recently figured out it was perfectly fine to put my skinny clothes in the garage, that maybe I didn't need size 12s in my closet if I'm currently a 20.

"Common" sense for most people, but my prefrontal lobes were damaged - so I need help.  I try to ask for help, and generally get the shouting from Ron.

#3, I had a hard time with it.  Today, for instance, I was cleaning out a cabinet.  I found some really vile herbal tea.  Yeah, it kind of helped, but I haven't made it in over a year.  Into the trash.

Which leads me to #4.  For instance, as I walked back into the room just now, I saw a ripped plastic bag on the floor.  The kitten had a good time.  It's trash, so I need to get rid of it.  I can do that on my medication, because I can finally think for the first time in my life.

Whenever I leave the house, for more than a day, Ron always goes nosing around in my stuff, "validating" what a horrible, messy, person I am.  I'm not sure what game is involved.  Maybe it has to do with the drinking - it's OK to drink, because she is messy.  If I were "perfect" he couldn't drink?  Well, of course I can't be perfect.  No one can.

Anyway, he will always accusingly say "Oh, I looked at YOUR counter and it was terrible, how can you do that..." make snide comments if I put something on "his" counter "No room on yours, huh?"

In short, he can be very ugly.  I always took it because I believed what he said, "I was very tidy until I met you".  However, a look in "his" man cave reveals a huge mess under his bed, his dresser drawers, and under his table.  He often calls me in to help him find something - yet the lightbulb never went off until tonight.

I was always very defensive, tearful, and desperate to please.  I wanted to be "better".

However, tonight - he woke up.  I said "I'm going to take out the trash".  He got an attitude, said "I told you I would take it out" - hours ago, and it was overflowing.  I had to pull it out of the can and tie it off.

"Not that one," I said, "The other one.  I cleaned off my counters, and cleaned out my cabinet".  He wanted to know if I "emptied my sink".  I said no, I had some (rinsed) dishes, but I'd get to it.  However, I had cleaned off the whole counter and the cabinet, did he want to see?

No, he was very rude and abrupt.  He drank something (forget if it was beer or wine), and said he needed to know where I kept the cat food.  I told him.  Where was the food bowl?  I told him.  He said he didn't want to reach under the kitchen table, and could we move it (guaranteed, he's going to kick it there, and knock it over, but I'll "let" him - I'll be gone and he will have to live with the mess).

He began complaining bitterly about current events, and I asked him why he watched the news.  He said he wanted to keep up.  "Why" I asked him "It only seems to make you angry and depressed."  He disputed that, said I was "wrong, again" and I said "Well, whenever you are angry and depressed, you are always talking about the news.  Why don't you cut it back?" (he watches for hours a day).  He was very quiet, and changed the subject to church.  He "hates" church.  He "hates having to worship God", etc.

I said, if you're going to be that ugly, then I can have (male friend) give me a ride from the house.  No, Ron insisted, he couldn't do that.  We would have an affair.

"Not every woman is a whore" I told him.  "I answer to God".   Ron was very skeptical.  With his history, I'm not surprised he projects.  He had sex with married women, best friends of women he dated, a wife of a man he considered a friend, etc.  So, to him, "Friends only" has no meaning.  "Won't cheat" has no value.

At any rate, he's getting into church.  I have to see that as a good thing, and view his griping as the price of admission.

I took out "my" bag of trash, and he said he wanted to look at something on the floor.  He found a box, what is this.  I did a quick check.  "This can all go out to the trash".  I took it out.

He found a bottle of tea in his sink.  I asked him to pour it out, so I could throw away the bottle.  He got the wrench.  As I came back in the house, he was rummaging around under the sink, producing bags of popcorn.  I asked if he wanted to continue "orienting" to the various cat food and water items.

No, he said.  He spent about 5 minutes breaking up the popcorn box, which was in a cabinet, and out of the way.  When I asked for help, he got distracted - so distracted he forgot everything else but 2 bags of unpopped popcorn and a small cardboard box.  Then he had to untie the trash he said he'd take out, and put the box in, then tie it up again just right.

In the meantime, I have cleaned the microwave, taken out the last bag of trash (can's full now) and wiped off the kitchen table.  That's when it hit me.  In his own way, Ron is just as cleaning impaired as me.  He gets distracted by the small picture and loses sight of the big one.

As of this moment, he has no idea about the wet cat food, cat food plates, or the identity of the TV dinners in the freezer.  It's all a big mystery.

I hope we both remember to do it tomorrow - I leave Monday afternoon.