My mom’s house is impossible to keep clean.
It feels like I’ve spent my entire life trapped in someone else’s mess.
I honestly don’t remember what it’s like to live in a normal, clean house. I never cared about having expensive furniture or a perfect home. All I ever wanted was a space that felt functional and peaceful. Instead, I grew up surrounded by clutter, trash bags, unfolded laundry, scattered cat food, and constant chaos.
What makes it even stranger is that my mom grew up completely differently. Her mom was a perfectionist cleaner, while her dad was the opposite. Somehow, it feels like she swung entirely in the other direction. Now our house feels overwhelming all the time, like things are constantly piling up faster than they can ever be cleaned.
I don’t know if my mom is considered a hoarder, but the signs are there. Her car is so packed with trash and random belongings that she can barely use the seats. She even keeps boxes of her dad’s things in there, despite him still being alive, and they’ve never been taken out. The house feels the same way. Everywhere I look, there’s another pile, another mess, another thing left unfinished.
My mom struggles with obesity and other health issues, and I know that affects her ability to clean. I try to be understanding of that, but what hurts is feeling like the responsibility somehow gets pushed onto me. I can’t clean an entire house by myself, and I shouldn’t be expected to. It’s especially frustrating when I come home from college and the house is even worse than when I left. Sometimes she can’t even keep up with feeding or watering the cats consistently.
The mess affects more than just the appearance of the house. My mom avoids asking people for help because she doesn’t want anyone to see how bad things have gotten. Because of that, problems never get fixed. The kitchen sink stays broken. My bedroom drawers stay broken. Everything becomes part of this endless cycle where nothing changes and I feel completely stuck.
I’m exhausted from carrying stress that doesn’t feel like mine to hold, but I also feel guilty for being angry about it. I don’t know how to help without sacrificing my own mental health, and I don’t know how to stop feeling trapped by a situation I can’t control. What am I supposed to do?