people with severe executive dysfunction think like this and by people I mean me
This is legit the best model for explanation of executive dysfunction Iāve seen, and takes the fuck off.
Let me explain using me (ADHD, OCD, Depression, Anxiety), and super simplified because this is extremely idiosyncratic; everyone works differently because brains so there is no universa ruleset, only commonalities.
What you see above is a few dishes. What I see is a few dishes.Ā What my brain interprets this as is a massive, undifferentiated mass of Things to Do So Many So Much and my brain locks up because Where To Start?Ā One pot, a couple of bowls?Ā No problem.Ā Add a lid?Ā Okay.Ā Two spoons.Ā Not....too bad.Ā Throw in that French press and bowl, weāre bordering on sketchy territory.Ā That sink right now? Lockup.Ā I can see twelve (ish) individual items in a sink; my brain has poor translation skills and interprets that as pile of things so many things all the things my God I canāt do this.Ā
You say that doesnāt make sense?Ā Sparky, try living with that shit; youāre in a fairly constant state of dissonance because generally, in a contest with the organic structure and neurochemicals that make up the brain, my consciousness will lose a battle of wills but you gotta try, much like those people who climb Mount Everest despite the odds of survival. It is fucking exhausting.Ā Itās like if someone spoke Chinese to me; you can yell all you like, but Iām not going to understand you and you may feel like killing me after doing it every goddamn day for say, my entire life. My brain cannot reliably differentiate between āarticle I read that was upsettingā and āgiant grizzly bear about to maul me to deathā: both will set off an anxiety attack and sometimes outright panic.Ā It does this shit.
Brains are fucking idiots.
Now try this:
Imagine every single room of your home having a pile of the equivalent. Doesnāt seem like a big deal; thatās six separate rooms.Ā I know that; my brain canāt understand.Ā My brain now sees super giant mass of undifferentiated things in a single discrete space the likes of which God himself would quail before.Ā You cannot logic a brain into responding correctly any more than you can logic a cat into transforming into a basset hound. Thatās why therapy, CBT, and medication exist and have since before the written word; the ancient Greek medical community were dealing with this bullshit in people and frankly, Iām not sure weāve really come much farther than eliminating āwandering wombs and humorsā.Ā Mostly.
The only way--for me--to make my brain interpret it correctly is to show it; I have to start doing it (aka cleaning) and all becomes not always easy but manageable. And I want to do it, badly, and thatās where executive disorder fucks you over again; I need somewhere to start and my brain canāt tell me where and I canāt access the practical knowledge base Iāve accumulated in my life of How to Clean The Things because my brain blocked it when it locked up.
Brains are idiots.
One of the ways some deal with it is to be in a constant state of cleanliness and order the likes of which you can eat off the floor.Ā You enter their house, they chase down a single blade of dried grass that fell off your coat; everything is in its place and never ever moves and youāre alone and afraid surrounded by ruthless order and the oppressive fragrance of environmentally friendly cleaning products.Ā Thereās no dust anywhere; itās terrifying.Ā The only way some people work with their brains is deal with everything when everything is still where their brain sees it as individual and that can be an extremely small margin; that may be one (1) unswept hall, one (1) piece of clothing not hung up, and four (4) unwashed dishes in the dishwasher before it becomes All The Things Too Much, no idea, itās extremely individual and for that matter, can be hard to work out individually.Ā
Itās exhausting, Iām gonna tell you now.Ā Having to constantly monitor your entire life--and yes,it is your entire life, everything counts toward the tipping point of Too Much All The Things So Much My God--and the optional low-grade OCD add-on some brains come with pre-installed can make this hell.
Another way is--to stop seeing it altogether.Ā This is not better.Ā Basically its self defense; it hit critical, we cant figure out where to start, anxiety starts fucking with us, and Mess of Invisibility Activate.Ā You enter their house, pushing aside Mount St. Laundry Last Two Months Of blocking the front door, navigate over empty amazon boxes and fifty pounds of rabbit food.Ā You donāt look in the kitchen; youāre not an idiot.Ā Ā You do not wonder what that smell is (or that one, or...that); you pretend you smell nothing. You realize you left muddy footprints; no worries, itāll be months before they notice.Ā You look around at what appears to be a post-disaster movie set; they high-jump a recent Costco run and a pile of computer parts (unknown functions but disturbing) to embrace you. They donāt seem to notice anything amiss.Ā This is normal.Ā You wonder if theyāve lost their minds.
Yeah.Ā Brains gonna brain.
Interesting Note: if you want to help, do not offer to clean, that activates some sketchy mental shit and also, oh God do you really want to look at that kitchen?Ā You do not.Ā Instead, look around and say āHey, I hate to ask, but any chance I can have all these boxes? I really need them for [make some shit up no need to be convincing they wonāt notice].ā
Fifty percent chance that by the time youāve dumped all fifty thousand boxes and the computer parts (turns out thatās a case they disassembled and you swore your case was melted by goblins, so they gave it to you), theyāve got a toothbrush and are happily cleaning corners, the kitchen is spotless, the laundry is folded and hung, and everything smells faintly of honeysuckle.
Thatās because you told them what their brain refused to do: where to start.
This is me on so many levels š¢
This is why I've 'meant to clean up the house so I can have people over' for YEARS.
Everything is invisible and I'm shut down.
And I'm on temporary furlough for two months, figured it would be the Perfect Time to actually get to cleaning.
Except it's been a week and now I have zero clean dishes. It got worse.
It's so... depressing.
And my mom is LEGIT the person that will pick up a blade of dry grass that falls off your coat. So I know where it comes from at least ..
Executive dysfunction played a major role in my divorce. That's fine because turns out he is an asshole. But I still remember how bad he made me feel, which made it even harder to try to clean.. his words are in my head.
