Mom always claimed that the "three pigs" made her life so miserable.
She could keep a clean house if the three of us weren't always working against her. The "three pigs" were my dad, my brother, and me.
Of course once Dad left and both of us moved out the truth came out. We've dug her out so many times, but it never made any difference.
The last time I dug her out we filled 200 lawn size trash bags. It didn't make any difference. One of the worst parts is the calls that come every now and then:
"Do you have any idea how your mother lives?" Yeah, I do. They don't ever say it, but I can almost always hear the silent "Why haven't you done something."
Let me try to explain. Mother has been dug out at least 7 times in the last 15 years. She throws her food wrappers on the floor. She smells bad. Her clothes smell because she won't wash them. She started wearing depends because she couldn't get to the bathroom over the garbage in time. Now she won't even throw those away.
When do you take away her freedom and call the city? Do you threaten her first? She'll just lie to me again and say she's getting it undercontrol.And there's always the voice in my head, "How could you let your mother live like that?"
There's more but this is all I can stand right now.
-son of a hoarder, 3/2006
Where do I start, we had everything and anything except the things me and my siblings needed; a place to do homework, a comfortable place to sleep.
For us it is both parents. Dad it was junk, so-called antiques, motorcycles in the living room (we used to put Xmas lights on them)broken power tools bottles the list goes on & onnnnn.
Mom's favorite was clothing. I'm talking mounds and mounds mixed with all that important paper work. I was the Oldest of 4. I would attempt to clean, take trash to the road-dad would come home from work and bring them back in and dump them on the floor to make sure that nothing worth money was thrown out and man he would become physically angry I still cant believe what is worth money to him and once you cleaned a area it was soon filled with new junk.
Mom used to keep the house clean but I think she gave up and became depressed. I would have to with him. It wasn't even nice junk, it would be broken garbage he would say I'm going to fix it.
The man has not fixed one thing. To fix everything he has it should take about 300 years including weekends.
Every summer I would escape to my Grandmas. This was on my bike 30 miles away but only to return for school. Now my parents have moved, leaving all that good stuff for their neighbors to enjoy; old boats, rusty van that doesn't run, and other junk.
My Brother attempted to empty the place but my sister stopped by and saw all the garbage ready to go to the dump. Her, being a fellow hoarder, called them (parents). They were soon there Flipping out at my Brother. So dad threw the bags that he could in the back of his truck.
These bags are now in the backyard of their new house with trash in them going on 2 years. For this action was every curse word there is and he only did this because he loves them.
Me, I left and joined the Military stationed overseas I married a woman from the country I'm in. These people are famous for being very clean.
I brought her home thinking they had new house it would be straight. Nope, to my embarrassment the place was trashed and to the guest room we had to make a trail. Me and her began a major cleanup-we got it done, painted walls, put in new flooring. When we left it looked beautiful.The next summer it was ruined.
It seems they are getting worse the older they get. I HATE IT but I love them. When that dreadful day comes when they leave us on Earth, me and my brother are going to have one heck of a bonn fire. I believe it will cleanse our souls everything will be put to the torch 30 years of hell.
-Son of a hoarder, 3/2006
My mom had at last count 78 cats living with her in her home, she no longer speaks to anyone in the family for fear we will take her cats.
At one point she was raided by animal control and they found some dead cats in a chest freezer in her bedroom, she got very upset that someone took her babies that had passed.
She has a couple of friends that help her....they also each have over 30 cats. These cats are all rescues and they help my mom find new babies to save.
My mom's lungs are so bad from ammonia exposure she can hardly breathe and requires oxygen all from breathing cat pee for years and years.
The sad thing is the last three times she was raided, I called Animal Control myself...there was cat poop all over her bed and sofa, and all over the stove, the carpet was missing in some places too.
There was a dead cat in bed with her.
-Son of a hoarder, 4/2006
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I've been through a lot of therapy and personal work and never
has anything hit the nail on the head like this site. I'm forty years
old and it's nice to finally, really know that I am not alone, and that
I did the best I could.
When I grew up I could never be in a space that was private, organized or in any way conduscive to focus. That means that the pursuit of interests had to occur outside the home. Inevitably all pursuits would fail because the home environment was so distracting. Homework was a physical impossibility. Also the clutter was not just stuff. It was noisy, unstable emotionally, often violent. I think most if not all children of hoarders have some degree of PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder). I recommend "Trauma and Recovery" by Judith Herman for a good explanation of the subtle, long term symptoms of the condition. I recall waiting at the front door for friends to pick me up. That way I could run out the door when I saw them and avoid risking the exposure of my shameful living conditions. Friends and social life had to be separated from my home almost entirely. For my parents the rationale went something
like this. "Well if people judge you for your messy house they a
re not true friends". Very scary.
It's too late now to fix it. I'm forty and free. But the damage is
done and I mourn the lost potentials of my earlier life. My parents will most likely die just as they have lived, surrounded by piles of
clothing, newspapers, documents, appliances functioning and non, photographs, bags of food and candy, etc., etc., etc.
My heart goes out to all of you children of hoarders. Just remember it
doesn't define you. It's just something you were subjected to for a
portion of your life. Hey...worst things could happen.
Your fellow clutter survivor,
****(Son of a Hoarder)
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