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| Donat-o-Meter Stats |
| November´s Goal: |
$100.00 |
| Due Date: |
Nov 30 |
| Amount in: |
$10.00 |
| Balance: |
$9.41 |
| Left to go: |
$90.59 |
| Donations | | | 2much $10 Nov-10 |
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8/4/06
Where to begin?
I just returned from a visit to my mom's house. She lives on the opposite side of the country. I think I live where I do to purposely not have to feel ashamed of her and her mess anymore.
I had not been there in over 4 years, it has always been bad, but now it has gotton so much worse. I always have been fearful of her mess, my secret, coming out. People who know me, friends, co workers, inlaws etc. have no idea how bad it was growing up in her house and just how
much worse it has gotten. She reflects her home so I am always cautious of who I allow to meet her when she visits. I too prepared my husband for what he was about to see as we drove up to her house. I have told him for sometime that her house was extreme and nothing one could possibly imagine, but even I was shocked when we got there.
The junk is made up of trinkets, clothes, books, building supplies anything you can imagine from thrift shops and garage sales of oevr 20 years stacked into mountains leaning off the sides of the house. She gets away with this because she lives out in the country, but the neighbors are still always complaining.
The piles surrounded the outside of her house and filled the three non-working cars and three makeshift sheds. She 'built' her own house, so you can imagine what a house built from supplies from garage sales and flea markets looks like. The inside is even worse. She wouldn't let me inside, this was a first, which truly indicated that it really has gotten so much worse. For years since coming home from college I have always stayed at friend's houses. These friends have an idea, but not completely as I never let them come over growing up, but just seeing the outside paints a picture.
My purpose for going to her house was to try to retrieve some of the things from my dad's apartment that she had collected after he died. He
couldn't handle it anymore than I could and so he eventually got his own place and would return only to visit when I was home from college.
Sadly he died 7 1/2 years ago and I still do not have his things. For years she has told me she will 'find' them and give them to me. I was
unsuccessful at finding anything in the couple of sheds that she would allow me and my husband to look through.
I had a huge emotional breakdown and screamed and cried at the reality of what her life has become and at the fact that she had such disrecpect for his things. She eventually broke down and gave me his ashes so at least I can have them in a clean and sacred place to give his memory some honor.
I am so emotional about this whole experience because I don't know what to do for her. I can't be a good human being or daughter for allowing her to live like this. She hasn't had running water, heat etc. for years. She spends half of the week staying at various friend's houses,
that is how she is able to shower. Going to the bathroom, I have no idea what she does. The only good thing that came out of this experience is that I have absolutley no skeletons in the closet with my husband anymore.
He was extremely supportive and truly did not make me feel ashamed for her mess. I know he must wonder a little bit about the fact
that I grew up like this though. I never lied to him, but I wasn't always completely upfront about how bad it was. It even affects our new baby
because she constantly is giving him junk, not just used toys, but dirty and torn items that I have told her again and again I don't want him
playing with.
I threatened to video tape her house in case I needed it to get her help, or as I told her, have her committed (which I wouldn't do) but I
thought threatening might help, I don't know why it never has in the past.
Thanks for listening, just knowing there are others who understand is a great support in itself. My goal is to help her somehow, underneath
all of her junk she is a good person who deserves better and I want to help her get that, even if she doesn't want it for herself, I have to
believe it can be better.
I amazed by the enormous response and stories about this mental problem, I never knew. I always thought I was alone and no one could ever understand how ashamed I was. Unfortunately the shame turns into guilt because no one wants to feel ashamed of their mother. I love her in spite of all of this, but I have to get her help, or at least keep trying.
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Posted on Monday, January 29, 2007 @ 16:30:57 ICT by Donna
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