Is it delayed productivity or Avoidance?
Avoidance
Clinically, they call it avoidance, I call it delay, a careful avoidance. I know what I should face, I know what I should do, but I scrub, I fold, I clean — anything to prove I’m busy, I’m moving, I’m not wasting time, because stillness, stillness feels like a crime.
Clean, scrub, fold, fold, scrub, clean, repeat, repeat, repeat — my hands obey, my mind loops, every room a list that never stops, never sleeps.
Scratch the itch, lift the stress, polish the mask, hide the mess. I know the cracks, I know the break, but the mask is easier than the choice I make.
Clean, scrub, fold, fold, scrub, clean, repeat, repeat, repeat — the rhythm hums, the tension drums, my pulse in sync with the tasks I meet.
Stop, focus, list, repeat, new project, fresh defeat. Avoidance, my truest compulsion, my spinning, spinning, endless convulsion.
At least I’m busy, at least I shine, at least my worth is still defined. But behind the polish, behind the chore, the cracks widen, and I feel — more, more, more.
