For as long as I can remember, one of my nervous habits is to begin cleaning.
Got into an argument? Go home and vacuum.
Got a bad grade on an assignment. Dust everything in the house.
Fussed at at work? Scrub the toilet.
Anxious about a phone call? Straighten all of the shelf items.
Even now, into my adult life with my own apartment and dealing with ever-so difficult adult life decisions and events, I find myself cleaning furiously when I get nervous or anxious. I’m in control. That bathroom WILL be clean. The floors WILL be mopped. The mirrors WILL be squeaky clean. No matter what issue I’m dealing with, I think perhaps wiping crumbs from the counter will help wipe my problems away.
I know deep down, that no amount of scrubbing will erase my fears. They’ll still be there long after my abode is cleaned. I guess I have some deep cleaning to do on these insecurities I’m hoarding…
Dreams of Bold 