How Much Is Too Much?
I
have always been a list maker. As far back as I can remember it
has been routine for me to systemize my life with layers of words
shaping the next day’s activities, work, communication, reports
and generally anything that has been my responsibility.
I started this
habit as a child and to this day you will find from one to several
lists planted around my house. Is this a compulsion? Am I
neurotic? I am a Virgo, born in September, and one prominent
quality of this sign is the need to organize.
This
practice has taken a variety of forms. In high school each plan
involved school activities and was embellished with colorful
drawings. I coordinated these daily arrangements in a large
notebook which I carried with me from class to class. I would
never cross anything off the list for I thought it ruined the
artistic design but I needed the security of the pages to remind
me of what I had to do. I was afraid I would forget an assignment
or special activity if I didn’t write it down. With all the chaos
in my life, I didn’t trust my brain to remember. I definitely was
becoming dependent on my catalogue of personal business.
By
the time I entered college in the 1960’s I had created a “mini
daily notebook,” 3 ½” by 5”, filled with several colored insert
pages depicting all the categories of my world, i.e. friends,
classes, stuff to do, addresses, phone numbers, supplies, wish
list, tomorrow, next week, next month. A few of my classmates
thought I was nuts and played a trick on me. They stole the
“precious planner.” I went crazy! The adrenalin was pumping; I
was furious with these girls. It felt like I had lost my purpose,
I wasn’t aware that this habitual recording of tasks was such an
intrinsic part of my being. It was embarrassing. I decided to
pretend it didn’t matter and said nothing. Instead, I created
another one, this time bigger and better and under lock and key.
As my
life became more complicated in my late 20’s, this habit escalated
to an addiction. Several times each day I needed to check my
lists, which by now had become a detailed card catalogue. I used
5 by 7 index cards, color-coded by type of activity. If the card
became too messy with lines drawn through completed tasks, I would
copy what was “left to do” on another card, starting a whole new
list. The wooden box which held my “memory” was too bulky to
carry with me so I would take only the cards I needed for the
day. Sometimes in the middle of the afternoon I would check these
descriptive details just to be sure I hadn’t forgotten something.
At the time it didn’t matter to me that this was
obsessive-compulsive behavior because I was totally dependent on
my “paper brain” and couldn’t function without it. Besides, I
kept my “index madness” secret and therefore didn’t need to
discuss it with anyone. This was one of the many ways I tried to
gain control over my life.
When
I became involved with Joey, my ex-husband of 12 years, “I SurvivedDocumenentary.com,” my sickness gushed out of control. I
attempted to organize the man, his daily activities and his
personal affairs. I was convinced he would fall apart if I
didn’t. I began recording for two. I have an incredible list
story to share with you that will illustrate how warped my
thinking had become.
Joey’s mother was quite ill and he hadn’t visited her in Boston
for a few years. I had only briefly met his parents before we
moved to California. I knew how much he missed his family and how
important it was for him to take the trip back east. We had
several garage sales with goods and pottery to pay for his
ticket. For weeks I scoured sales at department stores buying
clothes so that he would have the proper attire. I purchased a
suitcase as large as a trunk for the one week journey. Then I
proceeded to list the items that I was planning to pack for him
with instructions on “what to wear with what.” This meant
spreading out the articles all over the apartment and methodically
counting and coordinating each item. The process took many hours
of concentrated work.
Please, promise me you will read all these original pages
carefully, as tedious as they might be, for I want you to see the
excessiveness of my codependency and the need to control
another person’s life. I discovered theses sheets of paper hidden
in my dresser years after I had begun recovery. I am sure Joey
never read the list. Who, in their right mind, would ever
read something like this, let alone use it? It is not understandable.
This may be one of the most unbalanced acts of my addictive
personality. It is absolutely insane.
Click each list to expand for full view in a new window. Make sure
the new window is at full screen to read each list.
As I read over these lists today I am
filled with a sense of pity for my former self. This speaks
volumes to how I spent my time obsessing over my alcoholic man. I
thank God for my recovery. An example of my good health is the
form of list making I do today. I have one list for myself and my
9 year old daughter that I keep in our luggage. When I am ready
to pack I check off necessities using the same list each time.
Only after years of use, when it is tattered, do I make a new
one. I consider this to be practical, not neurotic. As for my
husband Bryan, he does his own packing.
Recently I took a trip East and packed
the whole suitcase without looking at the list. When I arrived I
discovered I had forgotten my favorite blow dryer comb. Did I
freak? No. I considered it an opportunity to be inventive and
create a new hairdo. It worked. I do believe planning saves time
and organizational tools such as Palm Pilots and Franklin Covey
Systems are helpful but I most enjoy a small tablet listing daily
chores. This is no longer obsessive, just a reminder of “what’s
up” in my busy world. What about you?