Messages By: gymfriend

In June, my mother died.  She was a hoarder and lived with me for 21 years.  Her hoarding caused a great deal of difficulty in my marriage, as my husband grew very weary of the constant mess. 

 

My husband and I finally asked my mother to leave as we tried for years to clean up her living environment.  When we couldn't get a handle on it, we had to take the next step. 

 

My mother was diagnosed with Pulmonary Fibrosis at the beginning of this year.  And although that condition is not caused from an unclean environment, the allergy caused by the dust created an environment that became hazardous to my mother's health.  My mother's "things" were so precious to her that she didn't want to leave them behind.  As she shuffled her way through her stuff, preparing to move, her allergy to the dust increased. 

 

My mother became very sick the beginning of June, and died from lung complications at the end of June.  My family has mourned greatly for her loss. 

 

As my daughters and I were left cleaning her environment, we all experienced breathing issues.  Mine being the worst, sending me to the same pulmonologist that my mother went to.  As I suffered and struggled to breathe, I wondered if my mother would have changed in order to save me from this heartache.  I knew she didn't love her life more than her "stuff", but I wonder if she would have loved my life enough to change. 

 

My mother died because her lungs were compromised by her disease, and she did not have a fair chance to fight the acute situation that was caused from her cleaning efforts.  After her death, I had to struggle to heal, although my healthy lungs allowed me to overcome the dusty conditions 

 

My mother had just turned 71 two weeks before she died.  She died too young.  It is difficult for my family to come to terms with the fact that my mother's stuff was important enough to her that she would die for it. 

 

People do not realize that hoarding presents breathing problems for those who are exposed to such excess.  Whether it is cats...or stuff.  The dust, dirt and hair is excessive and lungs can only handle so much of all this.

 

My mother's pulmonologist says that breathing such dust is like smoking a pack of cigarettes a day.  She also says that family members who are left cleaning up such mess will suffer breathing issues until the mess is gone. 

 

My family cries over this.  It is just plain sad. 

 

Life is meant to have a degree of balance.  And with hoarding...balance is absent. 

 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