Few-Silver3946 Husband went on a business trip a few months ago - gone for 3 weeks.

The first day that I came home to an empty house, I simultaneously missed him but also realized just how much clutter and mess was around the house - mostly his.  Shoes in random places.  Dirty clothes that somehow didn't make it to the hamper and had since taken up residence on the floor for weeks.  Clean clothes that also took up residence on the floor because he "just didn't have time" to put them away and would just pick through them for clothes to wear.  Empty soda cans, dirty cups, dirty dishes in his home office.  Stuff he bought months ago still sitting on the living room table.  Crumbs that fell from where he ate.

So I cleaned - the downstairs bathroom, the two upstairs bathrooms, the kitchen, the home office.  I wiped stuff down.  I put stuff away.  Organized things.  For the first time in a long time, the clutter was just gone.  And the next day I came home to an empty house, it was STILL gone and STILL clean.  It felt like my brain could breathe.  It was EXHILIRATING.

Admittedly, my husband is the type who likes to "clean together" but cleaning is a one-person job when it's therapeutic like this.  Plus, when he cleans, he needs excessive management - he's not thorough with cleaning mirrors (leaves streaks), misses stuff when wiping down surfaces, doesn't catch everything with the dust pan when sweeping, leaves the vacuum plugged in even after he's finished using it.

And over this timeframe of coming home to a clean house, I felt myself breathing a little easier.  There wasn't that tense sensation of *knowing* I had to straighten up something, knowing that I had to be alert to handle/take care of *something*.

Another thing that was wonderfully absent was the mental switchover to the "second shift" - where after working 9 hours, I'd drive home and immediately start cooking dinner and straighten up the kitchen (because he seems to have forgotten our longstanding agreement that if I cook, he cleans) and only have about 30-45 minutes to eat and be off my feet before it was time for bed.  Instead, it was a blissful escape from work, where I could catch up on reading, burn some scented candles, nibble on snacks/leftovers if I wanted without being hit with the "what are we having for dinner tonight" question while he was relaxing at his computer.

I could go to sleep whenever I wanted, and not get pawed and mouthed for below mediocre sex the minute I climbed under the blankets, got comfortable, and just. wanted. to. sleep.  Just me and my cats snuggling.

I had peace and cleanliness for 3 weeks.

The night he got home, within minutes, there was mess again.  Suitcase thrown on the floor, clothing pulled out of it and strewn about for him to "pick through" stuff that was clean.  Empty grocery bag left on the counter.  Second suitcase taken upstairs and, again, clothing strewn about the floor.  He took a bath 4 days ago in our upstairs bathroom and his clothes are STILL on the floor.

It might sound small but it hurts in a nagging, annoying way.  He was happy to see me and missed me so much.  I did miss him, but after my 3 weeks of no second-shift, no mess, no demands/expectations, and whole, uninterrupted evenings of me-time rather than snatches of 15-20 minute intervals here and there between cooking and cleaning and managing him, I miss my peace more.

 
Edit: Thanks everyone for the advice and the blunt tough-love.  I tend to internalize a lot and go the route of least resistance by handling things myself, but this instance really put a magnifying glass to stuff that I've just choked down my frustration to deal with.  I'm already in therapy for recently diagnosed anxiety/depression after dealing with some significant health crises affecting close family members, so I will extend the conversation to this.  My mental load just seems to grow by the day, and it feels like I can never really relax even when I'm home.  Admittedly there are days where I wish I could come home from work, grab my cats, and just keep driving - get a new phone and new phone number, never be found again except by people I want to find me.  On the one hand I know he loves me but on the other hand he's just so deficient in so many areas that it takes all of my energy to pick up that slack.

Not sure if it matters but my husband is on the spectrum, possibly with undiagnosed ADHD (I know it doesn't excuse this; there are plenty of people with autism who can manage themselves/their households better than neurotypical people).  Someone mentioned mess-blindness and to an extent I understand that, but I also REALLY don't - you know clothes go in the hamper or on the hanger/closet, not on the floor.

I will not do anything passive aggressive - no dishes in his car - but I will remind him of our deal about me cooking and him cleaning, as well as establish a cleaning schedule rather than just waiting for things to get messy.  When I was younger, my mom and I had a cleaning routine where you could plan on a day of cleaning, but 6 days of rest (which incentivized keeping stuff clean so you had 7 days of rest!) so I'll try that. 

As far as sex goes, I'm doing more exploring of my own body to get a real idea of what I actually like.  I know I can get wet, but with him I generally don't because I'm too busy thinking about other shit that I have to deal with.  That will be another conversation.  I got an IUD a while back after years of being on the Pill and I still have a lot of anxiety about anything going inside me because I subconsciously *feel* anticipatory discomfort down there.  I've been recommended to read "Come as You Are" and "She Comes First," too, so those are on my reading list.