Squalor

As I try to release the ropes my mental illness has against me I’m opening up my mind that my way of living is a root cause of my symptoms. It’s like I’m playing a game of how disgusting can I live, what are the perimeters of how much gross I’m willing to accept. Currently I’m sleeping on a bare mattress, on the floor because of a broken bed frame, that everything I have smells like piss because I have this new thing of wetting My bed. I also think I have fleas. And yet there I lay feeling my self worth plummet with every breath. I look at things and be like “normal people have nice beds” normal people aren’t swarmed with flies or have to step over animal feces to get to the bathroom. I guess recognizing that these conditions aren’t normal and aren’t okay is a huge step. Now getting over the mental block of implementing change that’s a whole other ordeal. It’s like I’m stagnant when it comes to fixing things. Like maybe it’s a deserve ploy in my head. If I fix it do I deserve it? If I spent the $45 someone gives me on a bed frame and not Door Dash would that make it better? If I flipped over the mattress washed my sheets and blankets would that bring a semblance of normal? Why don’t I deserve that. It’s one thing to learn to love yourself, it’s another to treat yourself like you deserve to be treated.