Oh how I wish I could help her.  I want so badly to break her out of
this emotional prison which causes her to do this.  This is a disease -
and such a mysterious one, where a cure or treatments are just unknown...

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This form was submitted:  Sep 09 2007 / 20:35:24

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I just left from a weekend visit to my parents house.  Each
time I go there I think it can't get worse... but it does.  They have a
huge home, but are living in 3 rooms.  And those rooms are still
filled with clutter and chaos.  I feel physically stressed when I walk
through the door.  Each time I leave I cry because I feel so helpless.  My
parents are such loving, wonderful people and it sickens and saddens me
the way they are living.  They deserve so much more than this - they
worked so hard all of their lives to provide for us. 

Everything they did
was for their children and their parents, too.  I offer to help my
mother (whose problem is a lot worse than my father's, though at least she
has some awareness of hers, unlike him) to help go through some things
- a couple garbage bags here and there.  Each time, I am met with
opposition about things that still have value and shouldn't be thrown away.
 

She saves bags of wire hangers because "the dry cleaners can recycle them."
I told her that doing that for the dry cleaners was really
nice, but saving those hangers didn't help her at all, only them.  I
told her that it doesn't cost her any less for dry cleaning to give them
the hangers.  She collects the soap and shampoo bottles from hotels
because she wants to donate them to the local domestic violence shelter -
and it's such a kind and selfless act - but those items ends up filling
drawers in the bathroom cabinets.  We cleaned out one bathroom cabinet
this afternoon and the bottom of the cabinet had bowed from the weight
of items stuffed in there. 

I can only imagine that their gorgeous home that my father built
himself - is also being structurally compromised from the weight of piles of
papers - newspapers, income tax records that date back to 30 years ago,
and all of the records in between. My parents moved my grandfather's
pool table to their basement after his death and it, too, is now ruined
from the weight of belongings stacked on top of it.  I had always
wanted to have my grandfather's pool table in my home one day.  

My siblings live all over the country and when they come for a visit -
it's hard for even a couple of us to fit in this 4 bedroom house. My
brother, who has severe allergies and asthma, can't spend more than about
30 minutes in the house before becoming ill.  I don't have allergies
or asthma, but I found myself having difficulty breathing after helping
my mom go through some things in my old bedroom for just an hour. 

Oh how I wish I could help her.  I want so badly to break her out of
this emotional prison which causes her to do this.  This is a disease -
and such a mysterious one, where a cure or treatments are just unknown.
  I live 2.5 hours away from her by car, my two other siblings are a
plane ride away and maybe get back there once a year.  My sister says
that she just can't deal with it, but I will not let my parents grow old
like this.  I will try with everything I have to help them and make them
better. 

I am hoping to contact a professional organizer who might be able to
come into the house with me and help my mom.  Though, I know she will
resist this effort and it will make both of my parents angry and
embarrassed.  My mom is seeing a counselor, but most counselors/psychologists
have zero knowledge about this type of OCD. I think this counselor is
doing her an extreme disservice not to refer her to someone who can help
her better.  But who knows, maybe she truly isn't aware of the magnitude
of the problem. 

I work full time and have a family of my own... but I have to try to
help.  I told my mother gently this weekend that I know her worst fear is
that we will throw away something valuable.  But I told her that if
something happened to her and dad, that sadly, our only option would be
to put a dumpster in front of their home and throw most everything away.
  It would literally take months to sift through and clean out the
rooms in their home.  And with me and my siblings having families and
careers, it just wouldn't be feasible to take that much time away from them.
 

I hold onto the people I love through memories and photographs... I
feel my mother holds on to them with belongings.  I pray every day that
she will find peace with herself and her home.