Many adults with Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) are organizationally challenged, and I am one of them. A lot of puzzle pieces fell into place with my diagnosis, including why I could be so incredibly organized in some areas of my life (most often work-related) and such a mess in others. And why I insisted on a properly set table, with forks on the left on top of the napkin (fold facing out) and knife (blade facing the plate) and spoon on the right, when the rest of the house might be in chaos.
This habit of micro-focusing on tiny, manageable areas serves as a defense mechanism of sorts. It is easier to feel in control of the situation if there is an oasis of calm in the midst of the clutter, something to rest your eyes (and brain) upon when the screaming clutter becomes too much to handle. Tonight as I sit at my computer table that is piled high with notes, precious objects, and things that defy categorizing, that island of calm is my doll cabinet, where many old friends stand in dust-free serenity behind class doors. I won’t let my eyes gaze upwards at the dolls standing on top of the cabinet, wearing a dusting of cobwebs. I love them as much as those inside the cabinet, but they won’t fit and dusting is not something I remember to do very often.
Behind me on the bed, conveniently out of my line of sight, is all the “leftovers” of my organizing project earlier this evening. Running my Close To My Heart business means keeping a certain amount of inventory at hand, as well as lots of scrapbooking and card making supplies at my disposal. Add to that the always growing pile of periodicals and books, and things easily get out of control. Much of my organizing tonight felt like “rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic”. My space is just as crowded and I can hear the band playing in the background, but perhaps things are more neatly stacked, with supplies I use daily more easily reached (and at least one box ready to go to into storage).
My immediate challenge now is what to do with those “leftovers” before I go to bed tonight. Somehow shoving this random collection together into a box would be counter-productive, but I don’t think I have the “oomph” to do any more than that. Perhaps after Granddaughter #2 finishes basketball in the morning I will tackle them. Or maybe they will be just fine in that random box.
For more about my struggles with organization, check out Fighting with Mess from December of 2013. Becoming (and staying) organized is a process, not a product.