Hoarders We Know and Encounter

[Bella]

Conversations on this and the other hoarder show inevitably head in this direction, so here's a thread for it.

 

I am friends with a Level 1/Level 2 hoarder - a dear, sweet man. No tunnels through the clutter or any of that, but he does have piles of stuff and has trouble throwing things out.

[JudyObscure]

My brother is probably Level 2, pushing 3. His basement is packed with what he is sure is the largest vinyl record collection, ever. He might be right, since he bought the bulk of it from a music store that was closing. His upstairs is fairly well stuffed with boxes he never unpacked from his last move ten years ago plus all the new stuff he orders off TV and buys at garage sales.

Now things have escalated. His girlfriend has started moving in. Her own large house being too packed with clutter, she spends most of her time with him. A few months ago she inherited almost a million dollars from her mother's estate. She immediately retired and began shopping. Most of her time is spent ordering things on line, big things like grandfather clocks and artificial waterfalls for that bedroom ambiance. All of this is currently unpacked in my brother's dining room. At the rate she's going she will be through the inheritance and unable to walk inside his house within a year.

Oh by the way, the plumbing in his house is shot but they won't bother to get it fixed.

They could sell their wrecked houses and buy a lovely beach cottage somewhere warm, but, no. They would first have to organize and cull their hoards and that will never, ever happen.

[cheeztoast]

My aunt is a Level 2 hoarder - mostly a "collector" of expensive clothes, shoes, etc as well as household bric-a-brac (of the faux fancy variety).  Unfortunately, she is a very very healthy 80 years old, active and very wealthy.  The main drawback is she lives in a condo that is not big enough for all of her stuff even though it is three bedrooms, three bathrooms and she lives alone.  Her husband, now deceased, was about a level 4 - collected everything he ever touched, picked up from the curb, got for "free", since the 1950s on up to the early 2000s when he was too sick to acquire new stuff.  It took my aunt six years to clear the house after his death so my brother and his family could renovate and move in.  She was still reluctant to do it - 60 years of crap plus her own clothes hoarding.

[Jipijapa]

My mom doesn't even rise to a Level 1 I think, mainly because all she does is protect my late grandmother's hoard.  My mother doesn't ever buy any new stuff, so I dunno... does that make her a hoarder?

 

However, my mom's house is neat and clean... until you open a door to a side room or the basement or the garage and then you see the boxes and the bags and the piles of my grandmother's craft stuff (oldy moldy stuff).  Thankfully, if you hire a dumpster for her, she will fill it... although she takes her sweet time.  No amount of offering of physical or financial help will budge her.  Because all that stuff is treasure.  Someone wants it.  Goodwill or the Rescue Mission.  Whatever.  My mother has this psychological need to leverage her late mother's junk in order to make some sort of "connection" via donation to that Someone Who Wants It. 

 

I finally had a huge breakthrough with her last month when I got her to consent to moving boxes and bags into the driveway, into the light of day, before throwing into the rented dumpster.  Previously, she'd insist on "going through it" in the dark dank basement, which of course she'd never do, or just sort it into piles.  Once it was brought into daylight, she began to realize what utter garbage it had become.  I think she tossed 95% of what was brought up, which amazed me. 

 

Just the fact that bringing it into the driveway worked, probably proves my mom isn't even a hoarder per se.  That tactic of "daylighting" doesn't seem to work for quite a few of the people who appear on Hoarders.  But, for less far gone people, I think that's an important step.  Get it the f--- out of the hoard environment (the basement, attic, whatever) and outdoors.

[ZoloftBlob]

I knew a level five growing up. She hoarded cats and newspapers and it was a small town and she stank of cat pee and everyone excused it because she was a nice old woman. It got worse and worse and then her house caught fire. She never got out. Neither did the sixty live cats. There were tunnels of newspaper and it took the entire day to put the fire out and they had to have the truck there for days as they tore the place apart and kept finding smoldering parts of the house.

[Bella]

I have been wanting to post this in a Hoarder thread for the longest time, and here at PTV, I can.

 

This is my (mental) theme song for hoarders:

 

 

[OSM Mom]

That's just sad.

[DangerousMinds]

Maybe this person is moving? That really wouldn't explain all the trash though.

[ramble]

@Bella I'm in love with the eBay song. I listened to it twice today. (Am I hoarding it?) I wish I could send a link to a certain family member, but she wouldn't get it. We had an intervention a couple of years ago & she just got better at hiding things. Thanks for sharing that!

Edited June 29, 2014 by ramble

[BooksRule]

I work at a university, and we used to have a guy come onto the campus who drove a van that was totally full of stuff, mainly books and papers.  You could see roaches scurrying around if you looked closely through the windshield.  Eeks!  He kind of disappeared after a while (maybe the hoard ate him).  I don't know if he had a house or if his van was his home.

 

I also know another hoarder, although I've never been in her house.  A friend of mine lives next door to her and says that the house is full of stuff, mainly newspapers and soft drink cups/straws.  She has no water or electricity.  I know that she used to drive a car that was piled full (just like the one in the photo above).  She had a spot to sit and could barely see around the hoard to drive.  When her car broke down, she just parked it in her backyard and now walks everywhere she has to go.  If she can't walk there or get a neighbor to drive her, she doesn't go.  I remember giving her a ride now and then when I saw her walking home from somewhere and did notice that she smelled (what my mom always called a 'soupy' smell), but it wasn't overwhelming.   Until I realized she was a hoarder, I just thought she was eccentric.  She always had an excuse for everything.  When she mentioned once that she didn't have a fridge, her excuse for not having one 'right now' was that the old one broke and the one she wanted to buy wouldn't fit in the spot so she just decided not to buy one for a while (I didn't find out until later that she didn't have electricity).  I always found her strange, but nice enough.  However, the neighbors tell me that they consider her dangerous, because she uses the backyard as a latrine (because of the 'no water') and is so scared and paranoid about being robbed of her 'treasures' that she has a gun.  They're afraid not only of the sanitary conditions and possibility of fire, but that she'll shoot up the block one day.  I'm torn between being very thankful that I don't live near her and feeling sorry for her because I know that she has lots of health problems including uncontrolled high blood pressure and has had several small strokes and is likely to one day die in that house in her hoard.  One interesting thing about her is that I know that she had worked a steady full-time job for over 40 years and recently retired.  She is an only child, no family living (as far as I know) and has little to no expenses (probably just a little food and her property taxes and such).  The scuttlebutt is that she has basically every dime she's ever earned (plus whatever she was left by her parents, if anything).  That makes it sadder, in my opinion. 

Edited July 2, 2014 by BooksRule

[Mu Shu]

My ex.   At first, I thought it was ok since the bathroom and kitchen were neat, and only had bathroom and kitchen stuff in them.   There were never piles or filth,   but he wouldn't throw stuff out.   His old flat screen died, so he got a new one.   And kept the old one.   He has old DSL modems and answering machines.   Boxes from when he moved to Florida 20 YEARS ago, as if there would never be another box produced.    Old books from high school/college.   At least 30 polo shirts he was too fat to wear, but couldn't give to Goodwill because his ex wife gave them to him.    It wasn't out of control, but it would very likely get there.   He had an old broiling pan that was falling apart so badly that it had buckled and had sharp edges.   After cutting my damn self on it, I suggested he get a new one, to which he responded no, as he had had it since he was 15.      AND he had the ugly, controlling personality so many of these people have.   

 

Just before I left, I noticed he was hoarding wine bottles.   He claimed they were to trap cock roaches. 

[ramble]

Just before I left, I noticed he was hoarding wine bottles. He claimed they were to trap cock roaches.

Wait, what? Is that an actual thing?

[Bella]

I'm glad you got out, @Mu Shu .

 

A lot of people fetishize books without being hoarders, which I don't get. I read a lot, maybe 1 or 2 books a week, so it could be that that's a factor. If I didn't donate my used books, borrow from the library, or have an e-reader, there'd be no space for anything else here.

[Mu Shu]

Oh,  he had plenty of other books such as a full set on old Encyclopedias he never cracked, and never will.   There was also the collection of newspapers he was supposed to  be using to build a career website.   The scanner he bought to scan them sat in the box, and the stupid newspapers stayed piling up.   

 

 

The wine bottles did draw roaches.   From the other apartments as well as his, I suspect.  

[DangerousMinds]

I'm glad you got out, @Mu Shu .

 

A lot of people fetishize books without being hoarders, which I don't get. I read a lot, maybe 1 or 2 books a week, so it could be that that's a factor. If I didn't donate my used books, borrow from the library, or have an e-reader, there'd be no space for anything else here.

I still hold out hope that one day I will live in a house with a real library!

[bubbls]

Wow, fascinating. I don't know any, but I see one driving a big van around town on occasion. The van is packed so tightly I seriously doubt you could get the doors open without an explosion. Aside from the driver's side, that is. We need a new show. Mobile Hoarding: Taking It To The Streets. 

 

Edited to say I accidentally discovered years ago that bottles with small necks/sloped sides are actually quite good for trapping roaches. They're attracted to whatever was in the bottle, crawl in, then can't get back up the sloped sides. 

Edited November 24, 2014 by bubbls

[glowlights]

This show used to be one of my favorites, along with Intervention, and I loved the discussions over at, um, a different site. Glad this forum is here!

 

I have a hoarder-by-association story:

My friend's neighbor passed away and she went to give condolences to the widower. She had never been in the house before and was shocked to see it was a hoarder situation. The widower was completely overwhelmed over how to get the house ready for sale - his wife had been the hoarder and he had been living under these conditions. I think this show has taught us how tyrannical hoarders can be. Anyway, my friend offered to help him and he was so grateful. They had filled TWO dumpsters when lo and behold, the man's son arrived and had a full-blown rage attack. How DARE they throw out family treasures? This was his property!!! Tore into my friend until she left. The "treasures"? Grocery store sales flyers from decades ago. Rotting magazines. A million empty margarine and yogurt containers. Basically decades of garbage. So that widower not only had a hoarder wife but a violent-tempered hoarder son. My friend was sick over it. I know we're supposed to feel sorry for hoarders but... some of them are truly awful.

 

Then again, I'm probably enabling hoarders when I list stuff on Freecycle. :)

[Crossbow]

I know we're supposed to feel sorry for hoarders but... some of them are truly awful.

 

Knowing someone is mentally ill doesn't always make it easier to deal with them.

[Irritable]

I enjoy reading about people's experiences with hoarders, it's almost cathartic in a weird way.  As much as I already know, I always hear something new that I never would have thought of on my own, since none of it makes any sense to me beyond the understanding that hoarding is a byproduct of mental illness. 

 

My mother was a hoarder.  When I lived at home I worked so hard to keep it under control just to alleviate my own embarrassment and anger, but once I moved out, the dam broke.  She passed away 17 years later, and being an only child, it was up to me to clean out her house and sell it.  I am very fortunate to have an incredibly kind husband that helped me through the agonizing process, which took weeks on end and countless full-sized drop-off dumpsters before it was finally, mercifully empty.  In what used to be the guest room, I found an enormous pile of unopened mail that she apparently retrieved from the mailbox daily and then immediately flung into the room on the floor, closing the door on it so she wouldn't have to think about what was waiting for her within the mountain of envelopes.  In my old bedroom, she had filled it floor to ceiling with clothes that I did not recognize, bags and boxes full.  I found out later that people she worked with would bring her "donations" because she told them she had no money for clothing.  In her bedroom, the ceiling had caved in because the roof had giant holes in it and rain had been pouring in for who knows how long.  Everything was covered in black mold, including piles and piles of new clothes and shoes I had bought for her as gifts over the years, all of which still had tags attached.  She slept in that room every night, on a wet, moldy bed with wet, moldy sheets.  In the hall bathroom, the bathtub was full of dirty dishes because the kitchen sink was broken in some way.  The floors in the hallway, living room, dining room, kitchen, den, were all covered in a layer of stuff about 1 - 2 feet deep.  As I sifted through it all, fleas would eat me alive, there were thousands of them.  Cat shit and pee was on everything, I was constantly picking up turds accidentally with handfuls of things like jewelry, aspirin, coins, cigarette butts and silt of unknown origin.  Somewhere in the middle of all of this wreckage, I found a draft of a letter she had written to me apologizing for the horrible things she had done to me as a child.  Years before, when I was an adult,  I had asked her to please, just ONCE, acknowledge the horror show that was my life growing up essentially alone, helpless and trapped with an untreated-bipolar. physically and emotionally abusive, raging alcoholic parent, and she looked me right in the eye and told me I was lying and that none of it happened.  The letter, full of crossed out words, did not come right out and say what she was sorry for, only that she was, and I knew what she meant, and that even when she knew for sure she was dying, she still couldn't bring herself to say or write the actual words.  It was then that I realized that all along, however horrifying my life had been as a child, her demons were much bigger, and I found forgiveness.  It must have been far worse to live with the terrible things you did to someone else than to be the person those things happened to.

 

I didn't know about the shocking conditions inside her house because I hadn't been past the foyer in years - she had changed the locks shortly after I moved out and wouldn't let me have a new key because I had betrayed her by trying to throw away an olive green Tupperware bowl from the 1960's that didn't have a lid.  She threw me out, and kept the bowl.  After a few weeks of not speaking to me, she finally allowed me to visit her while I stood on the front porch, talking to her through the front screened door.  The rest of the time, we would meet up for lunch or shopping, or she would come to my house, where she called me a clean freak, and rolled her eyes in a way that indicated she thought my neat home was a sure sign of my insanity.  Had I known even a tiny bit of what was happening, how she was living, I would have found some way to bust in and help her, but she never gave me that opportunity.

 

During the excruciating process of digging my childhood house of horrors out from under a pile of actual shit, my aunt by marriage, who also happened to be a hoarder, would stop by occasionally to tell me which things she had given to my mother as gifts, and that when I found them, she wanted them back.  One item was a thin blue belt with a brass buckle.  It is noteworthy that this belt had fit my aunt when she was in her 20s, and by this time she was nearing 50, and that belt would absolutely never fit her again, trust me on that.  She had given it to my mom specifically because it was so small, and my mother had lost so much weight due to cancer.  Suddenly, that fucking belt mattered more than anything else in the entire world to my aunt.  She called me about it, she had my uncle call me about it, she popped over to inquire about it - had I found it yet?  Was I sure I was looking hard enough?  Finally, about 75% of the way through the job, I found the thin blue belt with the brass buckle, hallelujah.  I told my husband I would be back shortly, and I drove that belt straight over to my aunt's house because it was so very urgent.  My aunt looked at it, and said, "This is the wrong belt, you're going to have to keep looking."  I very nearly killed her on the spot.  Once the house was done, I told her there were no more blue belts, that HAD to be the one, and maybe she just remembered it differently because she hadn't worn it since the 1980's, but no, she insisted the one she wanted was still out there somewhere, and she was mighty chapped that she would never have it again.  And don't even get me started on the bed sheets my aunt gave mom for her birthday one year - the ones that were ruined with black mold.  The only reason my aunt stopped berating me for throwing those away when I knew she wanted them back was because she died of a heart attack shortly after.  I swear, her heart failed because she was so high strung about her material possessions.  She filled my uncle's house with objects and obsessed over them day and night, day and night, every day bringing in bags and boxes of stuff and things, never taking any out, until she died, surrounded by her endless, teetering piles of everything and nothing.

 

After my aunt died, I thought maybe I could help my uncle get his house back together, but he won't let anyone throw away her things, not even things that are obvious garbage, because it feels like he's throwing her away.  Before he married, his house was organized and clean, and somehow over the years she managed to turn him into a hoarder, too.  Or rather, a hoard preserver, as someone astutely coined above. My aunt's brother hoarded up his house with newspapers and other trash so much that he bought the house next door to have somewhere to live.  He has since filled up house number 2, as well as a cabin in the mountains.  Their mother?  A class 4 hoarder, no one has stepped foot inside her house in over 20 years, but in the windows you can see stuff pressing desperately up against the glass all the way to the ceiling.  I have been surrounded by people with this disorder, but so far have managed not to succumb to it myself, knock on wood.  I'm sure when my husband saw what my mother's house was like, he probably looked at me, wondered if this was my future, and considered running for the hills.  I wouldn't blame him one bit, but to his credit, it's 10 years later and he continues to stick around.

 

I guess I will always be fascinated by hoarding, maybe because it has touched my life so personally, but also because it just leaves me awestruck.  There is a house in my neighborhood that I came thisclose to calling Code Enforcement to report, but someone must have beaten me to it.  I was feeling so bad for the neighbors on each side who were surely suffering insect and rodent problems as a result of the piles of unspeakable things all over the yard and sides of the house, not to mention the untended billowing weeds that stand in the place of grass.  Once the lawn was mowed and the piles of visible garbage were gone, I felt sad for the people inside the house, because whatever it is that's going on in there, it ain't good.  I really think this is an unsolvable problem, an incurable disorder, a disease with no cure.  Anyone who has had mild success after being bailed out from their hoard is the exception, not the rule.  It completely breaks my heart.

Edited June 5, 2015 by Irritable

[Taylorh2]

Nora has the smoothest skin that I've ever seen on a little old lady lol

[Cherrio]

Nora has the smoothest skin that I've ever seen on a little old lady lol

I didn't know it at the time that they were filming in the area, but I was behind Dr. Zazsio in the line at the airport to check in when she was leaving town.

[notyrmomma]

I enjoy reading about people's experiences with hoarders, it's almost cathartic in a weird way.  As much as I already know, I always hear something new that I never would have thought of on my own, since none of it makes any sense to me beyond the understanding that hoarding is a byproduct of mental illness. 

Irritable, can I give you a hug?  (I am referring to your entire post, I just didn't want to make this page longer than it needs to be) You have been through so much and it's interesting to hear the real thoughts of someone who has a loved one who is a hoarder--not the hyped up crap that they show on reality TV.  I was laughing at your aunt's blue belt!  OMG, I could just imagine you trying to sort through 10,000 pounds of crap just to find the wrong belt, LOL.

[bubbls]

Irritable, my goodness I have no words. I agree, it's very interesting to hear from someone who's lived in it. I'm glad you found that letter too. Edited to wonder if you've ever thought of writing a book.

Edited June 5, 2015 by bubbls

[Irritable]

Aww, thank you notyrmomma!  I'm amazed that the show finds people who agree to have their homes televised, because of all the hoarders I've known (and I have known a disproportionate amount, that's for sure!), none of them even let their best friends in, much less camera.  Usually, it is an incredibly well kept secret.  I'm positive that no one who knew my mom in the 30 years she lived in that house would have ever guessed what was really going down inside.  Maybe people thought it was odd that if they came to pick her up to go somewhere she would always be waiting for them outside, but hoarding wasn't well known then like it is now thanks to the programs about it.

 

bubbls, I actually have considered writing a book, because for some reason I have had a LOT of stories too crazy to be true, only they are, swirling around in my life.  My mother-in-law alone merits several chapters, she is an astonishing dark character.  But then I think, who would ever want to read that mess?  Not to mention I would have to go under an assumed name so no one in the book would find it!  But maybe I should do it for myself, just for therapeutic reasons.  I've known my husband since I was 12 years old, we've been together in some capacity since 1986, and to this day I still wonder how he turned out so sane and wonderful after the way he grew up.  He may wonder the same thing about me, we often feel like the only stable, normal people that have come out of either of our families.  And what's funny is, some of the most messed up people in our lives are the ones who sit in highest judgment.  It's amazing what denial and delusion can accomplish, that people can sit atop a mountain of garbage of their own making, and talk about the poor decisions of others.

 

One tremendously bittersweet thing about my mother's death was that she spent the last few months of her life in a hospital and then in hospice care, and while I knew she wanted to be home instead, once I saw her house I was so grateful that she didn't have to spend her last days in it.  If I can take one good thing out of the devastation I went through during her illness and demise, at least she was sleeping in a clean bed.  If I could go back 15 years I would change so many things.

 

Oh, and to answer the question of whether or not animals who live in a hoard hate it, too - I mean the ones free to roam, not the ones kept in cages, which is a HEEYUGE peeve of mine - yes, they hate it.  My mom asked me to take care of her cat after she died, and I was a little worried because she'd had the cat 2 years and I had never seen anything but its tail end as it ran away from me off into the woods so I expected it would be hard to get my hands on.  Mom had always said the cat preferred to be outdoors, but would sleep with her at night, and I am not someone who can have an outdoor cat because I worry too much about all the dangers and risks they can face, so I wasn't sure how hers would react to suddenly being indoors-only.  I brought her home, and she was at first very shy and hid under our bed from my cats for days, but eventually one of them coaxed her out (they are still best friends today).   She explored the house, found her favorite spots, became very happy and comfortable, and whenever someone would open a door to the outside, she would move away from it.  You seriously could not push her outdoors, she was not interested, no thank you.  So I figure the only reason she was outside so much before was because the state of the house was too much for her, too.  I hope my mom somehow can see or know, wherever she is, how well loved and cared for her cat has been.  That was the only thing she asked of me.

[Grommet]

Irritable, as a cat lover, I thank you for saving your mother's cat. And congratulations on saving yourself.

[notyrmomma]

 

 But then I think, who would ever want to read that mess? 

I would, but I am facinated with the human mind and the crazy fucked up things it makes people do.  This might be a little off topic, but there are three genres of shows that I am really into now: Hoarding shows, 600lb life type shows (with the insanely over weight), and paranormal shows.  To me, these three topics, even the paranormal shows to a lesser extent, are about the same thing, the human mind and how it rules the way you live.  So the hoarders have something in their mind telling them that they have to hold on to physical objects at all costs so people would rather live in a land fill than let go of a 10 year old newspaper; the 600 pounders have something in their brain that tells them to eat-eat-eat and they would rather be so fat that they can't walk rather than feel hunger for a second; and then you have the paranormal shows (I don't really believe in ghosts, but I know there are things that no one can explain), their brain keeps telling them they hear these noises and feel a presence, yet it is just a manifestation of how their brain processes environmental changes (made ready for television using slick production techniques).  The human mind is the most powerful force on earth!  It's so powerful that I believe that there was nothing you, Irritable, could have effectily done 15 years ago to fix this other than forcing your mother to get a lobotomy--which would have been terrible.  I'm glad too that she died in clean sheets.  She was very lucky!

[bubbls]

Irritable, as another cat lover I too thank you for saving your mom's kitty. That's so interesting how she now loves to be indoors. As far as a book, I think a lot of people would want to read it. I'm not only basing that on the popularity of shows like "Hoarders" but also how many people are interested in the human psyche.

[JudyObscure]

I just found this fascinating thread, particularly Irritable's amazing story. 

 

  My favorite part: "It was then that I realized that all along, however horrifying my life had been as a child, her demons were much bigger, and I found forgiveness.  It must have been far worse to live with the terrible things you did to someone else than to be the person those things happened to."

 

 May we all have such forgiveness and understanding from our children when the time comes.  Your heart is huge, Irritable.

[Irritable]

Aww!  Thanks so much, y'all!  Who knew in a thread about hoarding I would feel so much love?

[bubbls]

This doesn't really qualify as knowing a hoarder, but I'm pretty sure I ran into two last week. Mr. Bubbls and I went on several fun day trips browsing antique flea markets.There were two separate huge markets within a quarter mile of each other manned by women who looked strikingly similar. Both were stocked to the rafters with over-priced yet organized garbage. I'm pretty sure one was stocked with dump pickings based on the smell, and the other was actually the local dump disguised as a market. After much discussion between ourselves we determined the owners were sister hoarders who'd been told by their husbands to remove the hoard or face divorce. The sisters then proceeded to open their "antique" stores. They price their junk so high so nobody every actually buys anything thereby legitimately keeping their hoard (and adding to it) forever. Their husbands willingly pay the building rent just to keep the hoard confined there. The hoarders get to spend all day playing in the hoard. Really, it's the perfect setup for a hoarder.

[kelm]

I marathon watch all the hoarder shows. They're cathartic for me, in a way.

My mom is a hoarder and always has been.

Today, she owns 4 hoards and we have no idea how many storage sheds. She also owns a rental home and hoards the rent checks until they're no good anymore.

She buys a home, tears it apart with grandiose renovation plans, fills it to the brim with stuff, starts searching for another one because her plans never come to fruition, and one day just walks out the door to the next home.

Rinse and repeat.

The older she gets, the worse it gets. She's only been in this home 2 years and is already searching for the next one.

She does her dishes and makes her bed, and refuses to have a cat... So, in her mind she's NOT a hoarder.

It's always infuriating when she flips out because your glass left on the table has made her house a mess. She can see your glass, but not the mounds of shit piled everywhere.

[kelm]

She rarely leaves her hoard to visit any of us.

When she does, it's like she's very uncomfortable and can't wait to leave. Much like we are when we visit her hoard LOL

She stopped by my house the other day and hyper focused on the dust on my ceiling fan in the kitchen and wouldn't stfu about how gross it was and I needed to clean it.

It's true, there was dust on my ceiling fan. But... Damn

[bubbls]

Kelm, I can only say "Wow!" to your post. I mean...WOW. That must be so frustrating.

[Gbb]

I wasn't sure where to post this article but I found it fascinating and wanted to share it here to see what you guys thought. It's a Salon article by a woman whose mom was an anti-hoarder and slowly stripped away everything in their home, and then began removing them as well.

 

“Five dollars,” my mother says to the man wearing a hat with a clover leaf on it. She’s referring to the box springs, mattress and frame that are lying in the middle of our driveway. ...

 

I’m standing a few feet away from this transaction with my mouth open. I’m 17 and can’t fully comprehend that my mother has just sold my bed — the bed I’m still using. I can’t think of any rational reason for her to get rid of it. The bed isn’t damaged or falling apart, nor is it infested with bedbugs or fleas. In fact, it could probably last at least another decade, but its presence in our house adds to my mother’s anxiety and must be removed. Her purging has started to escalate and now includes almost everything, including personal items that belong to my father, my brother and me.

 

“Mom, what am I going to sleep on?” I interrupt her as she changes the price tag on a green and yellow tray from $5 to $1 in her wild everything must go fever. What doesn’t sell will be immediately donated to the Goodwill.

 

http://www.salon.com/2014/12/15/moms_tossing_everything_including_me/

 

BTW, what would you guys think about a thread here on the Psychology of Hoarding?

Edited October 1, 2015 by Gbb

[notyrmomma]

Wow, Gbb, what a sad but interesting article!  I think the human mind is fascinating.  Its one thing for a person to give up all of their possessions, but to give up all the people in your life too?  God bless the daughter for hanging in there.

[kelm]

I would definitely find a thread about the psychology of hoarding very interesting!

My mom is a mean hoarder, for lack of better words LOL and has this odd victim mentality. And a shopaholic, in a weird way.

Brand new, expensive furniture & appliances are never used. Still wrapped in the delivery plastic. Piled high all over. In all her houses. Lord knows what's hidden in storage sheds.

Brand new beautiful bed in the house she lives in now. BUT she sleeps curled up on this pos mangled little couch she bought at goodwill. And complains she can't sleep and is always sore.

Insanity LOL

[greenbean]

My relative is a bit of a hoarder. There's some clutter here and there, but it's not out of hand. What is an issue though is organisation. What I've noticed is that she must conceptualise space very differently from the "norm". Like, the room is fine, but she'll leave things behind the door, so you can't open it properly. Magazines, papers etc. They're organised in their own way, but it's the placement behind the door that's so cumbersome. It makes it so you have to semi side-step into the room. She doesn't notice this annoyance, and other ill placed items around the house.

 

Which she says is not big enough, even though it is and there's plenty of space for her things. Also the fridge and cupboards. There's some sorting issues. She'll complain about lack of space, but then I'll reorganise things and they'll fit.

 

Similarly with her shopping trolley. She insists that she can't get everything in there, even though it's a big expanding trolley. It's down to how she packs the groceries. You know you have to do it in a way that fits most stuff in the bag/trolley, but she doesn't seem to be able to do that. She's okay with packing clothes though. It's other more complex/ridged shaped items that causes problems.

 

I wonder if there's been any tests in this area.

Edited November 18, 2015 by greenbean

[glowlights]

My relative is a bit of a hoarder. There's some clutter here and there, but it's not out of hand. What is an issue though is organisation. What I've noticed is that she must conceptualise space very differently from the "norm". Like, the room is fine, but she'll leave things behind the door, so you can't open it properly. Magazines, papers etc. They're organised in their own way, but it's the placement behind the door that's so cumbersome. It makes it so you have to semi side-step into the room. She doesn't notice this annoyance, and other ill placed items around the house.

 

This sounds a lot like my mother! Stuff placed impractically or not organized. And then she complains there's no storage space in her house or there's no room for anything. Meanwhile, she has the same amount of space we do... Actually she has more storage space because we don't have a utility room full of built-in shelving that she has totally squandered by not organizing it. She's more of a disorganized complaining pack rat than a hoarder (what's the boundary between the two?) but I wonder if you're on to something about conceptualizing space. Meanwhile, she has no trouble pointing her finger at other people for having messy homes. WTF.

 

A thread about the psychology of hoarders would be fascinating.

[Irritable]

I was excited about the new season of Hoarders, because I need a huge boost / shove toward making my 2016 To-Do list of purging, organizing and cleaning happen.  But instead of inspiring me, I'm left feeling bummed out and not at all charged up to get my house in perfect shape.  These hoarders are so mentally ill that it's not really even about the hoarding.

 

I've noticed myself doing some weird things the last few months, like shuffling something from here to there "temporarily" without really knowing where I want it to live.  I have a corner in my craft room of things I want to sell, but I haven't sold them, they just sit there. I only just put up our Christmas decorations.  We have more coffee mugs than our cupboard can hold but instead of getting rid of some, I have put the extras on top of the refrigerator, and things on refrigerators used to be a pet peeve of mine.  I don't unpack our suitcase from trips for several days.  My pantry has somehow become stuffed to capacity. It's scaring the crap out of me, because I know I've got the hoarding gene, and maybe I've come to the part of my life where I have to start fighting it really hard?  I'm not sure if it's that, or if I have only started doing this since I got a rather severe back injury in September.  Regular chores have become enormous tasks for me, and what used to take me a day now takes two or more because I can only stand, walk around and sit in a chair for short periods of time.  I'm taking some fairly heavy pain medications. so it could be making my decision making a little fuzzy, as well.  My hope is that once I'm better that I will stop doing these things, but I don't know when that will be.  Maybe it's plain laziness, and not hoarding.  I truly cannot tell. The fact that I was not inspired to action by 4 episodes in a row of Hoarders is very disconcerting to me.

[Cherrio]

I have read a lot of your posts, thinking wow, you survived an insane childhood to have what sounds like a good life.   I cannot imagine what you went thru.

           I am no expert on hoarding, but I think at least in my opinion you are NOT a hoarder or a hoarder on the brink.

      When you mention the back surgery and pain meds, there is your common sense answer.  Just the surgery and recovery alone is going to change your daily life.

Add in pain meds and they do most certainly affect your mental and physical ability.

        What I would do at this point is ask your doctor if he or she can give you an idea of a timeline of how long it will take to become more mobile and active. Also ask about changing from a narcotic, tapering off it and changing to Motrin or Tylenol.   

     Hope this isn't too intrusive , but I just wanted you to know that I truly do not think you are a hoarder. Get well soon.

[Irritable]

Thank you so much, Cherrio, I really do appreciate your feedback and kind words!  I've got an appt. with my orthopedic surgeon tomorrow, and I've already written my list of questions so I don't forget to cover anything.  I tend to downplay problems when it comes to myself for some reason, so without the list he would probably say, "How have you been doing since the procedure?" and I would say, "Fine! Great! Sorry to take up your time, goodbye!", then drive home cursing myself for not telling him that on some days I still can't even reach far enough to wipe properly after peeing, much less make a grocery run.  (Sorry for the TMI!)  Meanwhile, I  keep looking around and see all these chores I want and need to do, but find myself crawling under the covers for a self-indulgent cry instead.  As we know, depression and hoarding go hand in hand, and depression is also in my genes, so maybe being hyper-aware of all this will help me not let myself spiral down into my own episode of Hoarders where they start out showing old photos of my once immaculate home, and then talk about the back injury that changed my life forever, as I am shown sitting in a filthy recliner that also serves as my bed in the middle of a mountain of debris.  I'm really starting understand how it can happen, which is what I wanted to learn from watching the show, not from real life.

 

I've honestly been thinking about hiring a housekeeper to come once a week until I am capable of doing everything myself again.  I swore I would never do that, but giving in is better than letting scuzz build up on the floors and cobwebs swing from the ceiling. Not that I'm there yet, but I'm just forecasting and remembering things I've seen and wondering how many days away I am from having a bathroom that makes people recoil.  As it is, I've been "cleaning" my shower floor by pushing around a Magic Eraser with my foot, and begging my cat to scrub all of our baseboards since she's already down there anyway, but so far she's pretending not  to understand English.

 

edited to add:  Last night I was watching The Bachelor (I'm revealing a lot of my secret shames here, lately!), and a question was asked what was the most romantic thing you've ever done.  I started to think back to everything my sweet Mr. Irritable has done for me, and decided that it had to be the weeks he spent helping me clean out my mother's hoard without ever complaining.  There is no amount of flowers and diamonds that could even come close to that powerful gesture of love. 

Edited January 12, 2016 by Irritable

[JudyObscure]

Oh, Irritable, you're in pain and yet still making me laugh (the cat.)  So sorry to hear about your back. 

 

Yes!  Now is the time for a cleaning lady!  If not now, when? I was in a wheel chair with a badly broken leg a few years ago and the condition of the house was a major source of depression for me, so I ended up doing things like vacuum from the wheelchair and get all tangled up in the cord or jammed in a corner.  It was dumb.   Right now you need to save your strength for your rehab exercises and let someone else do the cleaning.

 

My only anti-clutter tip:  One thing I do when I have things I want to get rid of, but can't quite go through the motions, is wait till garbage collection day and, just before the truck is due,  toss in those things like old books I got at the library book sale, clothes too worn for donation, etc.  I would chuck those extra mugs right in and forget about them before the truck was out of sight.  I like to do it when Hubs isn't around to question me about it and make me feel wasteful.

[Grommet]

I agree that sometimes you have to throw things away and NOT LOOK BACK. I struggle with disposing of things that still have usefulness but, fortunately, I live in an urban area and most everything I put on the sidewalk gets snatched up before the sanitation crew comes through. And the fleece cover to the cat bed that got destroyed? In the big garbage bag because, NO, I am not going to make another bed to cover it with.

 

irritable, I second the motion that you get a house cleaner while you recuperate - and perhaps beyond that. If I weren't so worried about people letting my cats out, I'd do that myself.

[Mu Shu]

I don't think you're a hoarder, Irritable. What I think you are is a very talented writer. "Teetering piles of everything and nothing". That's evocative. Plenty of people would read your book should you choose to write one.

My ex is still hoarding boxes from 1994. And all his clothes which are so worn that a naked homeless man would pass on wearing. And empty wine bottles. It hasn't got worse, and it's not at the level most people would call real hoarding, but it gives me headaches and anxiety. He did sell some stuff on eBay, so yay?

[Mrsjumbo]

Irritable- fascinating read! Write your book!

My parents are hoarders. Not to the degree on the show, but still. My father to a lesser extent. He was an alcoholic, not sure how that played into it. He had a dresser drawer filled with old lottery receipts. (?). The front closet is filled with just his jackets- at least 25 of them. However, his bedroom is neat as a pin. The room where he spends most of his time is not. Piles of newspapers, piles of DVDs of shows that will never be rewatched. A tv that is broken but they can't get it out because there is "too much stuff in the way".

My mom blames my dad but I think she is the bigger hoarder. She has 3 closets full of clothes. Her bedroom has a slim path to the bed. All around it are boxes, newspaper clippings, whatnot.

Worst of all is the basement. I remember when we were little we would actually roller skate down there. Now it is wall to wall old furnuture, most of it taken from both sets of grandparents houses when they passed away.

Mr Jumbo & I dated for 4 yrs. I was not living in that house, but 20 yrs ago it wasn't as bad as it is now. I never let him see the basement in all the time we were dating. On our wedding night we stopped at my parent's house before going to the hotel. Mr Junbo went down the stairs in his tux, he was so curious. He was horrified.

One time we stayed over & slept in my older sister's room. (As I said, it was a lot cleaner 20 yrs ago). Mr Jumbo woke up to a mouse scurrying over his leg!

i watch this show because I know it is in my genes. Their house has a musty, moldy smell now. I couldn't help myself the last time I visited. I blurted out "what's that smell?" before realizing it was just the smell of a house that hadn't been cleaned in awhile. They looked totally confused- I know they are "nose-blind" to it.

We joke that when they pass away we will light a match & run. But really it's going to involve a dumpster & a lot of purging & cleaning.

I find this show fascinating, esp the children of hoarders. It's a dirty secret that you can't tell your friends about. And you wonder how you ever turned out semi- normal.

[ZaldamoWilder]

I enjoy reading about people's experiences with hoarders, it's almost cathartic in a weird way.  As much as I already know, I always hear something new that I never would have thought of on my own, since none of it makes any sense to me beyond the understanding that hoarding is a byproduct of mental illness. 

 

My mother was a hoarder.  When I lived at home I worked so hard to keep it under control just to alleviate my own embarrassment and anger, but once I moved out, the dam broke.  She passed away 17 years later, and being an only child, it was up to me to clean out her house and sell it.  I am very fortunate to have an incredibly kind husband that helped me through the agonizing process, which took weeks on end and countless full-sized drop-off dumpsters before it was finally, mercifully empty.  In what used to be the guest room, I found an enormous pile of unopened mail that she apparently retrieved from the mailbox daily and then immediately flung into the room on the floor, closing the door on it so she wouldn't have to think about what was waiting for her within the mountain of envelopes.  In my old bedroom, she had filled it floor to ceiling with clothes that I did not recognize, bags and boxes full.  I found out later that people she worked with would bring her "donations" because she told them she had no money for clothing.  In her bedroom, the ceiling had caved in because the roof had giant holes in it and rain had been pouring in for who knows how long.  Everything was covered in black mold, including piles and piles of new clothes and shoes I had bought for her as gifts over the years, all of which still had tags attached.  She slept in that room every night, on a wet, moldy bed with wet, moldy sheets.  In the hall bathroom, the bathtub was full of dirty dishes because the kitchen sink was broken in some way.  The floors in the hallway, living room, dining room, kitchen, den, were all covered in a layer of stuff about 1 - 2 feet deep.  As I sifted through it all, fleas would eat me alive, there were thousands of them.  Cat shit and pee was on everything, I was constantly picking up turds accidentally with handfuls of things like jewelry, aspirin, coins, cigarette butts and silt of unknown origin.  Somewhere in the middle of all of this wreckage, I found a draft of a letter she had written to me apologizing for the horrible things she had done to me as a child.  Years before, when I was an adult,  I had asked her to please, just ONCE, acknowledge the horror show that was my life growing up essentially alone, helpless and trapped with an untreated-bipolar. physically and emotionally abusive, raging alcoholic parent, and she looked me right in the eye and told me I was lying and that none of it happened.  The letter, full of crossed out words, did not come right out and say what she was sorry for, only that she was, and I knew what she meant, and that even when she knew for sure she was dying, she still couldn't bring herself to say or write the actual words.  It was then that I realized that all along, however horrifying my life had been as a child, her demons were much bigger, and I found forgiveness.  It must have been far worse to live with the terrible things you did to someone else than to be the person those things happened to.

 

I didn't know about the shocking conditions inside her house because I hadn't been past the foyer in years - she had changed the locks shortly after I moved out and wouldn't let me have a new key because I had betrayed her by trying to throw away an olive green Tupperware bowl from the 1960's that didn't have a lid.  She threw me out, and kept the bowl.  After a few weeks of not speaking to me, she finally allowed me to visit her while I stood on the front porch, talking to her through the front screened door.  The rest of the time, we would meet up for lunch or shopping, or she would come to my house, where she called me a clean freak, and rolled her eyes in a way that indicated she thought my neat home was a sure sign of my insanity.  Had I known even a tiny bit of what was happening, how she was living, I would have found some way to bust in and help her, but she never gave me that opportunity.

 

During the excruciating process of digging my childhood house of horrors out from under a pile of actual shit, my aunt by marriage, who also happened to be a hoarder, would stop by occasionally to tell me which things she had given to my mother as gifts, and that when I found them, she wanted them back.  One item was a thin blue belt with a brass buckle.  It is noteworthy that this belt had fit my aunt when she was in her 20s, and by this time she was nearing 50, and that belt would absolutely never fit her again, trust me on that.  She had given it to my mom specifically because it was so small, and my mother had lost so much weight due to cancer.  Suddenly, that fucking belt mattered more than anything else in the entire world to my aunt.  She called me about it, she had my uncle call me about it, she popped over to inquire about it - had I found it yet?  Was I sure I was looking hard enough?  Finally, about 75% of the way through the job, I found the thin blue belt with the brass buckle, hallelujah.  I told my husband I would be back shortly, and I drove that belt straight over to my aunt's house because it was so very urgent.  My aunt looked at it, and said, "This is the wrong belt, you're going to have to keep looking."  I very nearly killed her on the spot.  Once the house was done, I told her there were no more blue belts, that HAD to be the one, and maybe she just remembered it differently because she hadn't worn it since the 1980's, but no, she insisted the one she wanted was still out there somewhere, and she was mighty chapped that she would never have it again.  And don't even get me started on the bed sheets my aunt gave mom for her birthday one year - the ones that were ruined with black mold.  The only reason my aunt stopped berating me for throwing those away when I knew she wanted them back was because she died of a heart attack shortly after.  I swear, her heart failed because she was so high strung about her material possessions.  She filled my uncle's house with objects and obsessed over them day and night, day and night, every day bringing in bags and boxes of stuff and things, never taking any out, until she died, surrounded by her endless, teetering piles of everything and nothing.

 

After my aunt died, I thought maybe I could help my uncle get his house back together, but he won't let anyone throw away her things, not even things that are obvious garbage, because it feels like he's throwing her away.  Before he married, his house was organized and clean, and somehow over the years she managed to turn him into a hoarder, too.  Or rather, a hoard preserver, as someone astutely coined above. My aunt's brother hoarded up his house with newspapers and other trash so much that he bought the house next door to have somewhere to live.  He has since filled up house number 2, as well as a cabin in the mountains.  Their mother?  A class 4 hoarder, no one has stepped foot inside her house in over 20 years, but in the windows you can see stuff pressing desperately up against the glass all the way to the ceiling.  I have been surrounded by people with this disorder, but so far have managed not to succumb to it myself, knock on wood.  I'm sure when my husband saw what my mother's house was like, he probably looked at me, wondered if this was my future, and considered running for the hills.  I wouldn't blame him one bit, but to his credit, it's 10 years later and he continues to stick around.

 

I guess I will always be fascinated by hoarding, maybe because it has touched my life so personally, but also because it just leaves me awestruck.  There is a house in my neighborhood that I came thisclose to calling Code Enforcement to report, but someone must have beaten me to it.  I was feeling so bad for the neighbors on each side who were surely suffering insect and rodent problems as a result of the piles of unspeakable things all over the yard and sides of the house, not to mention the untended billowing weeds that stand in the place of grass.  Once the lawn was mowed and the piles of visible garbage were gone, I felt sad for the people inside the house, because whatever it is that's going on in there, it ain't good.  I really think this is an unsolvable problem, an incurable disorder, a disease with no cure.  Anyone who has had mild success after being bailed out from their hoard is the exception, not the rule.  It completely breaks my heart.

 

Irritable, you made my whole heart lurch, but this stopped me cold.  And may even have helped me understand some things I didn't before.  Thank you for that.

 

I know you didn't intend for it to be funny, but bolded made me howl with laughter.  There are things that only the child of someone with this illness would find as hilarious as they would tragic. The fact that you even had the courage to go into the house, fully suspecting what you might find is amazing all by itself but then deciding to sort, clean and get through all of it?  Yeah girl, I'd order your book on Amazon today.  

 

I don't know from levels so I don't know if I can fully describe my mom as a hoarder.  Stuff will just be piled up in a gang in a closet that nobody ever goes into.  I had no idea that having a fridge stuffed to its gills (plus a full sized separate freezer also in the same kitchen) was abnormal until my best friend opened the fridge door one day.  She went to get something to drink and opened it then looked at me.  It wasn't dirty and none of the food had gone bad, but she was like girl what the fuck?  This is not normal.  I said it's not?  She said look at this fridge?!!  I said what's the matter with it?  She goes, it's PACKED, only 4 of you live here and this thing is like feed the world full.  I said well my mom cooks every night.  It also struck me then that she shopped 3 times a week and the freezer on the other side of the kitchen was also stuffed to the gills with meat and vegetables.  I've looked for reasons that would explain it but my mom did not grow up in this country, she was born well after the depression and came from a family that was pretty well off for their time. I'm just now, like last month now, speculating on what it is that must've happened to her as a youngster.    I say all that to say that I think this show fascinates me because seen through their eyes, it looks normal.  And then if you grow up in it, it might look normal to you too, so how does the cycle ever get broken?   My younger sister moved in with me about a year ago and I realize that she's also her mother's daughter.  We have stern conversations about how she keeps my fridge - not only full but it looks like she literally stood back and threw the groceries inside.  I mean if you're using the tops of juice bottles as a makeshift shelf on which to balance more food, you need to understand that's a problem. 

 

I call myself a lightweight hoarder.  There's so much I didn't realize before ever seeing this show.  This has a name, it's not just that you're messy or cluttery.  It's genetic.  It's symptomatic of a much deeper issue.  Like many of you, I struggle to catch myself with rationalizing why I'd even need to keep what I keep.  I don't think it's attachment, per se, but I will save things "I'm going to read later" or "can sell on ebay" - I think I'm like Mary, it's not nasty or even dust covered, it's just shit I'm keeping for no good reason.  Behind closed doors. Closets and crawl spaces aren't packed, there's just more stuff than I'll ever have use for in my house.  We must have varying sizes of about 10 suitcases.  There are only 3 of us.   And I'll think, we NEED that, you don't throw away suitcases, the moment you need a really big one, you'll find out you gave it to the Goodwill.  Meanwhile, I've used it exactly 1 time.  So nothing I can't get rid of on a good Sunday afternoon, I think I just don't want to do the work.  Believe me, if Dr. Tonya Harding showed up at my house with 16 people, I'd be like yeah it's this way, come right in.

 

Thanks for sharing, ya'll.

[funky-rat]

My mother is a low-level hoarder.  When I was younger, the house was neat and tidy, but as I got older, it began to clutter up.  Mom was just too tired to clean - she worked a high stress job which got more and more stressful as time passed and the small company she worked for grew.  Also, dad worked odd hours that constantly changed, and it was hard as time went on (he thought the job was just temporary when he got out of the Air Force - something to hold him over until he found something "better") and his sleep patterns became hopelessly screwed up.  It got to a point where we couldn't even cook if he was sleeping because the smell would waft back the hall and wake him up.  Mom and I would vacate the house when he was working certain hours, and that fed our shopping and spending habits - we would usually end up at a mall somewhere.  Then we got caught in a cycle - you buy stuff, you bring it home but you have to be quiet so you can't put it away correctly or tidy up, so you go back out and spend (eating out or shopping), and so on and so on. 

 

Plus, my mom was raised by two people who lived through the depression (and her mother - on top of it all - was the daughter of immigrants) and they threw nothing out.  When her mother was alive, we often took her shopping because she didn't drive, and that involved buying her things, since she was poor, and my parents both worked and pulled a decent salary.  My grandmother was a ruthless bargain shopper - she knew how to stack discounts, clipped coupons, shopped at several different stores if that's what it took and was able to save a bit.  She did that from necessity, but my mom just enjoyed the thrill of the hunt.  I grew up going to flea markets, yard sales, and thrift stores with my mom's parents - they sold stuff at flea markets on weekends for extra money, to supplement their social security.  Whey they passed away, we took 3 full sized dumpsters full of stuff out (jars of buttons, bra hooks, zippers - she never thew old clothes out - she harvested stuff from it, and then used the rest for rags), and we probably burned that much more, to save on dumpster fees.

As I got older and got involved in stuff, house cleaning took a back seat to that.  My room was rarely tidy.  It wasn't gross, but it needed help.  Sometimes, I'd get sick of looking at it and I'd tidy up, but partway through I'd tire of my mom saying "Why are you throwing that out?", so I'd just box stuff up and shove it in the closet, and shut the doors.  That kind of thing drove my husband insane when we met - he lived with my parents to escape his abusive household (he didn't want to go back there after his mother was responsible for getting him kicked out of college).  He tried to keep the house tidy, but it was a losing battle.  What would end up happening is he'd box stuff up for mom to sort, and she'd just move the box elsewhere.

 

We moved out after we got married, and into an apartment, and all was well for a few years.  Then we moved into a very small house.  The apartment was actually larger.  Suddenly, we found ourselves with spaces that weren't really useful, and stuff began to pile up.  And spending time with my somewhat evil Mother In Law (while she was still alive) re-ignited my passion for the treasure hunt.  She always wanted to hit thrift stores and flea markets.  My home gradually began filling up with collections of one type or another - board games was one.  I had partially filled a small room.  I justified it as they were cheap and plentiful, and people were giving them to me left and right - including my mother.  I reached a point when I found ones that were on the bottom of a somewhat organized pile had been ruined, that I purged, but still had quite a few.  My house was also full of sports action figures and collectibles, clothes (all courtesy of my mother) and other useless stuff.  Five times while we lived there (over the course of 17 years), we purged because of necessity (inspections by the boro - mandatory for all rental properties, being sick of looking at it, and real estate appraisers who came in when my landlady's father died, and then again when her brother wanted to be bought out of his stake of the property), and it was exhausting each time.  Yet, I'd let it get back that way.  I had no motivation to keep it tidy.  The house was so small that our friends didn't want to visit.  We could only have 2 people over, or we'd all be sitting on laps.  Our furniture was uncomfortable because it had to fold to get in the door.  So I get the "surround yourself with treasures" mentality.

 

Having the landlady sell the house was the best thing ever.  First, it forced a major clean-up (because initially, they were trying to find someone who would rent it to us, but it wasn't a turn key property - it needed work - stuff that she had neglected the few years prior), and then it forced a purge.  We got a bigger place - much bigger - but we didn't want to move a bunch of the stuff.  I donated 5-6 garbage bags full of clothes (and they were FULL).  I made probably 20 runs to donation bins to drop off household goods.  I tossed probably a quarter of a construction dumpster full of stuff that was pointless, or got ruined when our basement got wet in a flood.

 

And through it all, there is my mother.  I don't know if any other kids of hoarders (even low level) experience this, but she's very judgmental when it comes to stuff.  I never said a word to her all the years her house was cluttered (it's since somewhat improved - she did some remodeling, so it had to be de-cluttered).  But she feels free to lecture me frequently about my stuff.  It's a waste of money.  I could have spent that on something useful, yet she thinks nothing of dropping $500 in a casino.  It matters not to her that I purged at least half of our stuff when we moved - probably more.  She still lectures - as recently as last week.  "You have too much stuff.  You need to quit collecting."  I don't collect anything anymore - haven't in years.  One of the first things she said when I was setting up the "den" in my new place was "I thought you were going to pare down your games."  I had 2.5 shelving units FULL when I moved.  I'm down to 1 shelving unit.  I took TWO loads to Salvation Army of board games (back seat and passenger seat FULL), and gave a bunch away to people.  I may pare down again in the future, but I was damn proud of that.  I have too many cd's (they're neatly stored in cabinets).  I have too many DVD's (I pared down big-time last year, but that goes unrecognized).  She actually told me 2 weeks ago to stop joining record and book clubs - I told her record clubs don't exist anymore, haven't for a long time, and my last record club went out of business a good 10 years ago.  I never belonged to a book club.  Yet through it all, she's calling me from Wal-Mart at 11pm - a post-BINGO shopping trip with her moocher friend - asking me if I want something that's on sale.  And if I say "No thanks", she tries to persuade me.  Hell, even as I was giving her updates when we moved, I mentioned tossing 3 big Rubbermaid totes full of stuffed animals (most from my late Mother In Law) because they smelled from being stored in the basement (I wouldn't have kept them anyway, but that was the biggest reason not to), she says "That's a shame they had to be thrown away".  Find wall, bang head.

 

We filled an 8x10 storage shed FULL with boxes and totes - the basement was the last thing to be cleared at the old house.  In the course of 2 weeks, most of it went into a dumpster.  I kept things I thought I might be able to eBay - I've had some success selling off stuff I've amassed on eBay in the past few months - and put that stuff into one tote I could access.  However, I still have 3 HUGE totes full of sports stuff, most of it his, and most of it he no longer wants.  So I've been trying to sell it locally, but we live in an area where people root for the "home" team, and none of what I have is home team stuff.  And it's all stuff that would be costly to ship, or would incur damage.  Sometimes, I swear I can't win, lol.  I have the urge to purge, but it's not happening.  While I am not delusional and understand that I'll never get what he paid back for that stuff, it is something I could get some money for, and don't want to donate it to Goodwill.

Sorry for the diatribe.  I was so irritated with the lecture last week that it was still bugging me, and I needed to blow off.  When my late Step-Father-In-Law's affairs are settled, I'll unleash that horror story.  It actually had me contacting Matt Paxton on Facebook, telling him I had mad respect, and telling him I would try not to judge another hoarder's family again.

 

**For continuity:  The storage shed was at the new place.  The place came with a shed, but it was in bad condition, so we negotiated for it to be replaced by the seller.  It took a few weeks for it to be made and delivered.  In the interim, we emptied everything at the old house except for the basement.  We emptied the basement in one day - 2 trips.  First trip was all junk - straight to a dumpster.  The 2nd trip was to the house.  We were so sick of moving, and it was hotter than Hades, so we just stacked up boxes and totes that we thought might contain stuff we wanted (it filled the shed), and we spent the next 2 weeks sorting through those.  We purged probably 3/4 of it, either to Goodwill, or the dumpster.**

Edited February 9, 2016 by funky-rat

[Mojeaux]

Funky Rat, I don't know you (obviously), but you're an inspiration.

[camom]

In no way am I a hoarder, but I do have trouble getting rid of things that still have value.  The show actually helps me to get rid of stuff and knowing it's going to Goodwill instead of the trash helps.  I can tend to be messy (combination of a busy life and laziness), so I have to be careful or I'd have stacks and boxes of stuff all over.  Having watched the show helped when my mother passed away.  I felt like there were so many times on the show when people said that things got out of hand when their parents passed away and they inherited everything.  It was hard, but I was determined to only bring things to my house that I would use.  If it was just going to sit in my garage I didn't need it.  

 

I do see a difference in the hoarders on the show.  Some are real hoarders who can't voluntarily throw out the most disgusting, worthless items.  But others are just plain old lazy and can't bother to wash a dish or walk a few steps to take out the garbage.  I think the second group makes me angrier.

[briochetwist]

 

I do see a difference in the hoarders on the show.  Some are real hoarders who can't voluntarily throw out the most disgusting, worthless items.  But others are just plain old lazy and can't bother to wash a dish or walk a few steps to take out the garbage.  I think the second group makes me angrier.

Really?  I don't see a difference between anyone who hoards, some are worse than others, but they all have issues. They all have either trauma in their pasts, or perhaps untreated ADHD or a multitude of other issues. I honestly don't see any of them as lazy.