Every space I inhabit has at least one pile of miscellaneous stuff, from paper bills to pocket change, stray socks to supplement scripts (and everything in-between). As I’ve moved from dorm rooms to apartments in the last decade, these piles have remained constant. For a long time, I thought I was just failing at organizing “well,” and was content to regard my piles as chaos.
Then I learned about DOOM piles.
DOOM is an acronym that stands for “Didn’t Organize, Only Moved.” This phrase is used by some in the neurodivergent community to illustrate the tendency to stash random items in one place.
This might sound familiar: You accumulate new things, plan to find a place for them, and put them in a central location to “deal with later.” Of course, “later” never really arrives. Meanwhile, one pile becomes two becomes… more. Eventually, you’re living under mountains of mayhem.
When I was finishing up my final year of graduate school, I was struggling with managing tasks outside of my program. As I buried myself in my studies, my apartment also became buried in stuff I struggled to find a place for: boxes, books, ribbons, statues, candles, clothes, and much more. I had no space in my brain (hello, cognitive overwhelm) to decide where stuff went – so it went to the DOOM pile.
DOOM piles are a physical manifestation of cognitive overload — a common experience for people with ADHD. Abnormalities in the frontal cortex give way to decision fatigue, procrastination, and other tendencies.
Soon, my apartment became home to multiple chaos clusters. Navigating my own home felt unbearable. My already-small kitchen suffocated me with mounds of coupons, glass bottles, and miscellaneous cooking utensils crowding every surface. My living room was an obstacle course, filled with unsorted paperwork and lesson plans alongside a bursting pantry. Even my bedroom, my personal haven, had two rotating piles of unhoused ephemera.
It was too much to see and bear. Frustrated and overwhelmed, I tried to consolidate my DOOM piles by moving them to one location: my home office.
My DOOM piles produced a DOOM room.
My DOOM room became a short-term solution, easing the shame I felt about my lack of “organization” skills. Guests no longer saw the piles when they came over, but locking it all behind a closed door wasn’t a real fix. Every time I’d enter the DOOM room, I felt just that: doom. My frustrations grew, as I struggled to balance my desire to accumulate new things with my paralysis towards sorting and organizing what I already had.
Learning about DOOM piles freed me from this shame in a lasting, tangible way. Finally, I had language for this (dis)organization quirk. I felt seen, validated, and much less alone!
Trading in the shame opened the door for creative acceptance. If this is simply how I’m wired, how can I work with my brain, instead of against it?
Designating certain spaces in my apartment for certain items has been a life-changer.
For example, in the space next to my front door, I have a small table that I place my keys on, along with chewing gum, headphones, hand sanitizer, and other items that I tend to reach for when I leave my home. Where I used to have a pile of shoes I’d grab from haphazardly, now I have a shoe shelf.
I also employ “dump zones” – small containers such as baskets and trays to hold clutter, which reduces cognitive overwhelm in storage. I use “dump zones” on my nightstand, my coffee table, and other areas. To work with my dopamine-seeking brain, I make my “dump zones” fun and whimsical. I use colorful containers and repurposed patterned cloths to line them, filling my piled-up life with color.
I revisit my dump zones every week (or several) to see what might need to be decluttered. The key here, at least for me, is that (1) I have spaces for certain items, and (2) I always return things to their designated place. (This also helps me to not misplace things!) I always think of the phrase, “Put them away, not down!”
I also set aside time every month to do an inventory of each room and see what I need – and what I can declutter.
In the past, I used to feel overwhelmed by the prospect of sorting through things to discard. I didn’t know where to begin, and I often worried about the environmental impacts of my apartment clear-outs.
Then I discovered Buy Nothing, a neighborhood Facebook group based on a gift economy. In Buy Nothing, you can post items to “gift” your neighbors – and you can ask for things as well! Sometimes Buy Nothing can add to my DOOM piles, but most of the time, it’s a way to meet the needs of my neighbors while whittling away at my DOOM space.
Since implementing this organization method, I’ve noticed that my apartment has blossomed into a consistently tidier, more inviting space. Designated “dump zones” add a splash of intrigue and functionality to my rooms, and manage the visual clutter that used to dominate my home. With chaos managed, my guests (and I) can better enjoy the space I call home.
I’ve noticed a change in myself, too. I start my days feeling calmer than before, and end my days with a sense of gratitude for my living space. When I return from an errand run, I feel peace when I replace my keys, coat, and winter boots to their rightful location.
I spent too long mourning the hyper-organized life I wished I’d had. Now I respect the brain I have by working with it to build the life and space I want for myself – piles and all.
Bio
Céire Kealty writes about a range of topics, from clothing to disability justice. She lives in the greater Philadelphia area.
