Why indeed...

Why?

Why, if I don't live there anymore, does my Mother's "mess" bother me so much?

Why do I let her hoarding affect my decision making? i.e. I'd rather throw [any item] out now than end up like my Mother.

Why am I so angry about something I have no control over?

Why doesn't Mom's hoarding seem to affect my brothers like it does my sister and I?

Why can't my Mom share her feelings with me, or anyone else for that matter?

Why did God allow this to happen to our family?

Why is there no cure for hoarding?

Why am I so scared to let people know the truth?

Why am I terrified that my children will somehow "catch" it?

Why do I keep "cleaning out" my Mom's place when I know that it won't last?

Why am I keeping a record of this unpleasant aspect of my life?

Why do I care when it seems that no one else around me does?

Why can't my Mom just be "normal" (if there is such a thing)?

Why can't I find the answers I need to get on with my life?

Why me?

Why this?

Why?