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November 16, 2006, 7:38 am PST
11/15 When Too Much is ... Too Much
Quote From: sooztunes2Dear gymfriend,
I'm sorry for your loss. As a hoarder myself, I just want to tell you that hoarding like this is a compulsion. That means there is no logical equation that works, such as "I love my daughter and care for her health, therefore I will no longer hoard." Also, the opposite sentence is not true, "I love my things more than I love my life or my family."
I have tried many times to change my behaviors with such logical equations. To someone who does not have the skewed compulsive thinking or brain wiring or whatever that comes with hoarding, the choice to love things or to love people makes sense, and is probably an easy one to make.
But to someone with a hoarding issue, no amount of thinking about someone you love or something you enjoy or the benefits of a clean house seems to overcome the compulsion to hoard. When I attempt to take action or make a decision to take action, the fear and anxiety and apathy that come up freeze me to the sofa. The shame of friends or strangers seeing the mess I have created keeps me from accepting help from anyone. It's a real mind-bind thing that goes on.
So if it's any comfort to you, consider that your mother was dealing with a mental health issue in her hoarding, not a question of whether she valued her family.
May you and your family have all the love and support you need as you go through this time of grieving.
Susan
Dallas, TX
Thank you for your response. It was helpful to me.
I hope that you get the incentive somewhere to deal with this issue while you can. Change almost always brings anxiety. Because we are creatures of habit. And to make a change breaks the habits we hold dear to our heart.
I know that during times of real change, I help myself with a little Xanex. I believe in talking a lot and also medicating your way into comfort.
My mother was proud. She never wanted to admit weakness. I admit weakness. And I believe that is the biggest difference. She would never reach out for help that she needed. I openly reach out because I feel that life is difficult, and nobody can live to perfection.
My mother also would never seek help for a "mental disorder". Where I will go without hesitation.
"Shhh, don't tell people" was always my mother's way of dealing with an issue. Where I will always be willing to admit my problems to a roomful of women.
I don't believe that my mother and I were different in the amount of anxiety that we felt. I was heavily sexually abused as a child and shook for two years straight from the anxiety that I felt facing it all. I still shake at times for various reasons. My mother would rather stuff things and ignore her need, rather than feel the anxiety needed to chance.
I always compare it to throwing up. Nobody likes to throw up. I know I hate it. But fighting it only prolongs your sickness. If you just allow yourself to feel the sickness to its fullness, and go with the throwing up experience, no matter how unpleasant, the health finally returns. You often have to go through it in order to get to the other side.
I hope that for you. I hope you just take the bull by the horns and change. Otherwise your future will be much darker in the end. And those you love ultimately suffer.
Stuff is simply that; stuff. And life is life. The loss of one is worse than the loss of the other.
Gina
New Jersey
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