One of the frustrating parts of my life is that I have long COVID.
Mine shows up as fatigue, nausea, and headaches. I know it’s worse for others, and I hold space for that. Still, this version has been enough to quietly derail my days. When I say fatigue, I don’t mean “a little tired.” I mean the kind of exhaustion where washing dishes feels like a major task.
That changes things.
I had projects I was excited about. Things I wanted to make, fix, start. I would begin, the fatigue would hit, and not only would the project stall, everything around it would stay unfinished too. I left supplies out, a trail of “I’ll deal with that later.”
Rinse. Repeat.
Eventually, I paused and really looked at my house. At first, I wanted to scold myself for laziness and for being a failure. But that’s not helpful – or accurate, really. It was the result of too many days of thinking, I have no energy, so I’ll just set this here for now. Over time, that adds up into an overwhelming level of stuff scattered around.
Have you been there? The moment where you look at something and think, There’s no way I can do all of that.
Here’s how to start when overwhelmed … or at last what works for me.
I stop looking at the big picture. Completely. I don’t plan the whole cleanup. I don’t map it out. That’s too overwhelming. When I do that, I shut down. Shutting down doesn’t help anything.
Instead, I choose one small step. One drawer, one surface, one task that fits the energy I actually have, rather than the energy I wish I had.
Then I do just that.
And this part matters more than it sounds: I acknowledge my progress. When I can, I even celebrate it. Not with champagne or gold stars, but with a quiet, intentional moment of recognition. I did that. It counts.
Sometimes that looks like a small smile, or a brief sense of being pleased with myself. Other times, there’s no smile at all. On those days, it’s enough to tell myself, clearly and firmly, that I am still moving forward and that progress is being made.
That matters because I’m very good at being hard on myself. Celebrating the small step interrupts that habit. It replaces “I shouldn’t be here in the first place” with the knowledge that I’m working to correct it.
Even if the progress is measured in inches – and sometimes it is – it helps me to know that I’m moving forward.
Because inches still move you somewhere. And as long as I’m moving, slowly and imperfectly, I’ll get there.
That’s enough.
(Looking for more concrete help with decluttering? I’ve found Dana White’s No Mess Decluttering technique very helpful. Her method makes certain that you can stop at any time without making your home look worse. That helps when my energy bottoms out suddenly!)
Leave a Reply