But I put on a master farce, spending hours doing my hair and makeup
before school.   I was as perfectly normal as possible. Not normal at
all.  All the time covering the fear, what if they came over and saw?
  When my friends came to pick me up I always waited anxiously at the
window, ready to run out to them before they could make it to my door...

MESSAGE SENT THROUGH  WEBSITE

This form was submitted:  Jan 09 2008 / 21:23:11

Amazing I found this website!  Well here's some images of my
family life.. 

I grew up in a garbage house.  The house was so full of stuff you could
not open many doors.  There were piles of stuff everywhere and a
narrow,  sometimes covered path where one could walk.   The kitchen was
piled high with bags of  molding bread, dirty plates, stuff. There was no
room on the counters to set a plate.   The refrigerator was so full of
piles of rotting way out-of-date stuff, you had to shut it quickly to
keep what you put in from falling out.   The garbage bags in the kitchen
leaked smelly liquid into sticky puddles on the floor. 
By the way, I was also pretty unkempt as a child.  Sometimes wearing
the same clothes for several weeks, never bathing or getting my hair
brushed.  I was made fun of and ostracized from other kids at school.  And
at home me and my sis were to blame for the mess.   Mom would have
these tyrannical screaming fits.  Yelling and telling us we were no good
and horrible and we had to stop whatever or shut up or... I can´t
remember.  My minds blanking out.
Well kids are messy, it´s true, huh?

Then I finally started to figure out how to use the washing machine and
act as normal as possible so I could have a friend.  I must have been
8 or 9.   I had some very painful slip ups in these  years, like not
remembering to brush my hair until the 3rd  hour of school.  
I was crying a lot  at school...I remember not being able to invite
other kids over. Often I felt confused and scattered at home.  I remember
panic in the mornings because of not being able to find my shoes or my
bag. I remember bloody feet from stepping on glass and needles. 
I kept losing my homework in the mess.  The teacher thought Í was some
kind of special-ed case and put me in the special class with the
mental retards.   Whoa, now that really did NOT help my self esteem. You can
imagine what the other kids thought!  How could the adults have had
such little understanding?

As I got older (15 or 16) I would have wars with the stuff... Cleaning
it all up and then collapsing against the hoard again for months,
depressed in the mess.  The whole while my mother was screaming at me for
throwing  seemingly useless crap away.  She just went out and got more.
  My sister never fought the war with me.  She just sort of succumbed,
accepting it, drowning in it, and ultimately  imitating it.   She is now
a hoarder as well.  
But I put on a master farce, spending hours doing my hair and makeup
before school.   I was as perfectly normal as possible. Not normal at
all.  All the time covering the fear, what if they came over and saw?
  When my friends came to pick me up I always waited anxiously at the
window, ready to run out to them before they could make it to my door.

I left the house at 18.  I distanced myself as much as I could from my
family.   Congratulating myself for being able to maintain an ordered
living space.  It wasn't my fault after all! Ha! It´s not my
responsibility if they have a problem and don´t do anything to try and change
it.
I got as far away from them as I could, not calling or visiting for
many years.  In fact I moved all the way out of the country to another
culture and language.  

But I am not at peace.  I am still assaulted by depression, social
anxiety, feelings of intense guilt, a deep fear of rejection. 
Confrontations often sends me crying in public places.  

Now they are getting old.  Mom stepped on a rolling knife and really
messed up her foot.   She slipped on newspapers and messed up her back. 
Dad said a needle went all the way through his foot recently.    I
sometimes (once a year) go home and clean. But it doesn't take more than a
few weeks for my mom to mess it up again.  It's exhausting and a
little traumatic for me.

Last Christmas I found that the sewage pipes had backed up and the
basement had been filled with human sewage.   The damage was incredible..
  I picked up 30 huge trash bags of laundry covering the floor that had
been sopped with the vile liquid.   They were contaminated and covered
with insects, mold,  and white fungus that grew over everything.   

I work on healing, through therapy I have really forgiven them.  They
helped me out in many ways and they are my parents.   In the bible, the
Koran, the Vedas, all the ancient scriptures it says we have a duty
  towards our parents and I don't want to carry resentment.

I found out that since Christmas Mom went on a shopping rampage. She
grimly told me over the phone that the house is almost a mess again.

What can be done?  It's such an old problem now.. and is it really my
business? Mom refuses therapy and won't allow outsiders to come help.
  There is no help from the rest of the family, no help from the church
either. Just me, on the opposite side of the earth.