It's now 2008 and I am 29 and still dealing with the property and her
stuff.  I finally moved into a spacious apartment of my own, and it is
crammed full of my stuff and her stuff that I've brought from storage to
"sort out."  I don't seem to have the energy to tackle it.  It's a mix
of good stuff and crap (like how we found her diamond engagement ring
mixed in with rubber bands and old school papers in her water-damaged
desk), so I can't bring myself to just shovel it all into trash bags...

Below is the result of your feedback form. It was submitted on Monday,
February 25th, 2008 at 09:39 AM.


Relationship : Adult Daughter
Source : my sister
Message :

My mother's hoarding got progressively worse throughout her
life.  We always had to deal with paths through the house.  But after my
dad died when I was 17, there were long periods without running water
(luckily we had a pond out back so we could fetch buckets to flush the
toilet).  She also took the heater out of the trailer, claiming it was
dangerous and leaked gas - really I think she wanted more room to store
her newspaper stacks.  After I left for college, my 15-year old sister
essentially moved in with friends.  We didn't have animal waste or
(much) rotting food to deal with, thank god, but we had mold from the
leaky roof (I still wonder if that's why I developed such allergies).

My sister grew up to be the opposite - for her, throwing stuff out is
cathartic and her home is spotless and clean and empty and calming.  I
unfortunately struggle with throwing stuff out - usually I relieve
stress by shopping.  Mama died in 2004.  I was not working (I'd moved home
to care for her while she was sick).  Because I am unable to throw away
"perfectly good things," I had yardsales every weekend for 4 months.
  Then I put what was left of her stuff in storage, moved back to the city
and got a job and rented a room and rebuilt my life.

It's now 2008 and I am 29 and still dealing with the property and her
stuff.  I finally moved into a spacious apartment of my own, and it is
crammed full of my stuff and her stuff that I've brought from storage to
"sort out."  I don't seem to have the energy to tackle it.  It's a mix
of good stuff and crap (like how we found her diamond engagement ring
mixed in with rubber bands and old school papers in her water-damaged
desk), so I can't bring myself to just shovel it all into trash bags. 

My apartment is so full that I don't have a usuable living room, just a
couch and chair and piles of boxes.  I feel like I'm back in high
school, except this time *I* am the crazy, lazy hoarder.  I've been dating
a wonderful guy, but I'm hesitant to get more serious because he seems
to be slightly packrattish.  

Oh, one more bit of irony:   I now manage a thrift store, and spend my
workdays sorting through junk, throwing out broken stuff with glee and
carefully displaying reusable stuff so that it will find a good home.
  It's quite enjoyable.