In Case of an Emergency...

My Mom lives in constant fear of "the end of the world as we know it".

No really... she does.

I understand from my research on OCD Hoarding, that most hoarders feel a "need" to save things for later. Because you never know. I mean it's very likely that the day after you throw out that rubberband collection you will find yourself in serious and immediate need of 2000 rubberbands. Same goes for the 100 or so yogurt containers you have been saving... etc. etc.

So it's really no surprise that my Mom has grasped a hold of the whole "national disaster/emergency/end of the world" idea. This is the perfect reason to save just about anything. In theory, just about anything you can think of might be useful in an emergency.

To be fair to my Mom, if there is a disaster/emergency I hope I can make it over to her place. Because that will be her time to shine! Plus she might have something I will need.

Never mind that she lived her whole life in chaos, never making close friendships, subjecting her children to anxiety-ridden lives, and so on and so forth.

It will all be worth it...

living like this. To get this shot (above), I just reached my arm into the room with the camera and pushed the button. There really was no other safe way to do it. This used to be my brothers' room, the bunkbeds are still in there somewhere. Anyways, the boxes and buckets that you can see are filled with food storage items.

And here is the reason my Mom has been bringing over food to store in my extra freezer... This is a BIG freezer and it is completely full! I'm tempted to tell you about the time (last summer) my Sis and I cleaned out her old freezer. But I just ate.

One last pic. This is a view of the closet in my brothers' old room. Also full of food storage. You know what would be nice? It would be nice if when family came home to visit they could actually stay in one of the three extra bedrooms at Mom's place.

That's why I bought a house in the same town as my parents. So that we can have normal family get togethers and people can have a place to stay when they come in from out of town. Don't get me wrong, I like it. I like hosting parties and having guests over, It's what I dreamed of doing my whole life... Escaping the hoard, inviting people over.

But, deep down I know that my Mom would like it too. She loves her family and treasures the times we are all together. She is a sweet and wonderful Grandma.

But she can't (or won't?) let any of her precious "stuff" go. Not gonna' happen. Never, no how, no way. So I just sit here and type, letting my emotions take me where they will. Hoping that someday it will all be better.

And when that emergency strikes, I'm gonna put on my boots and hike up to Mom's place to get a bite to eat and watch her glory in her "preparedness".

If it ain't broke...

I finally made it over to Mom's to get the long awaited photos. I have to say I feel a little guilty about sneaking around behind her back.

But only a little...

I told myself it's therapeutic.

I hope it is.

I'm just going to start out slow with this. A couple of pictures at a time is probably all I can handle.

Here we have a typical drawer in the kitchen. This one happens to be the utensil drawer. Some interesting facts about this particular drawer:

1. It is actually much cleaner than I've seen it in years. I wonder where the rest of the silverware is being stored.

2. This drawer is never closed. Did I say never? Good. Because this drawer is never closed. Well, once after my Sis and I did a "clean up" we closed it. But as soon as Mom got back from her vacation it got opened right back up.


3. Because it is actually broken as well as always open, the cupboard door below it must also be open to prop it up. As seen in this picture... (same drawer, different angle)

4. I think it broke about 15 years ago...

5. Mom's rationale is that since my Dad is such an "unhandy" guy and she just never has the money to pay those overpriced proffesionals, this is just how she has to live. With a broken drawer propped open for 15 years... yeah right.

This is another drawer in the kitchen. Same problem, same solution.

Oh yeah, and same excuses...

It's a little harder to see the drawer in this shot. Just look really close... there you see it?

O.K. So here's my take on this little "situation". Yes, the drawers are broken. No one is denying that my Dad isn't the greatest at fixing things. Maybe the professionals ARE overpriced...

BUT SERIOUSLY!!! Normal people don't live like this... do they? What's really going on here is the fact that the drawers are actually too stuffed full of crap to actually function and when they finally broke, my Mom found the perfect excuse for not closing them again, EVER. Whew... what a relief that must have been for her. Now she can blame it on my Dad's poor fix-it skills.

To be fair to my Mom, I don't think that she consciously realizes that this is what she is doing. It's just another way the "hoarding" has taken over her otherwise pleasant personality.

Of course that doesn't mean that you (or I) could point this out to her and she would see the logic. No, she has her own logic and part of that is that she is never wrong. Hoarders (at least in my experience) can talk their way out of anything. But that's another subject for another day!

Hidden Danger...

Did you know it's dangerous to read stranger's blogs? Not dangerous as in "watch out, you might hurt yourself" or "someone crazy is going to hunt you down and.."

O.k. maybe dangerous isn't even the word i'm looking for.

What I'm trying to get at is that reading people's blogs that you don't even know (and even people you do know) gives you a false sense of reality. You read what they write, see the pictures they post and you think you know them. You think that perfect little world that you are witnessing really exists. Those happy smiling faces staring out from the computer screen say it all.

And then you start to ask yourself... why am I not like that? Should I be more like that? What am I doing wrong? You find yourself making comparisons... and when you do this, you cannot win.

Because no one really tells it how it is. Sure they might tell you about the mess the kids made and they might talk about sleepless nights and unfolded laundry, but the tales are usually told with just a hint of humor. And there are always the pictures, and the pictures "never" lie.

Nobody puts bad pictures on their blogs (o.k. the pictures may be bad -as in poor quality - but you get what i'm saying). Because a picture really is worth a thousand words. The hundred or so words they used to describe their "terrible" day is always followed up with, or sandwiched between pictures of smiling children, laughing parents, and always in the background are snippets of clean houses.

Yes, I notice these things... so do you. I just do it consciously and you probably do it subconsciously. It's funny because growing up my Mom took lots of pictures. And I look at them and smile knowingly. Not because of what you can see, but because of what you can't see. You can't see that just out of the frame is a pile of junk that just got pushed a little higher so it wouldn't be in the picture. You look at us in the picture with our cute smiling faces and our flushed cheeks and you presume we just took a break from our play to pose for the camera. What you don't know is the fact that we just spent the last 5 minutes making a small space near the curtains or wall presentable enough for the picture. As a result, most of the pictures we have (at least inside) are posed. We don't have any of those spontaneous "oh that's so cute, I had better get out the camera" moments (at least not inside anyway).

You see, even at a young age, I was being taught that the way I lived wasn't acceptable to others. So I pushed the piles out of the way and I posed for the camera. And that's how it still is. Although the piles aren't there in a literal sense, I still have to push them out of the way and make my self presentable to others. I feel like a fraud...

Double Identity...

In the interest of time (and because I still need to get over to Mom's and take those pics), I am going to copy a post I left on my Children of Hoarders message board a while ago. I feel that it is the most accurate description of my daily life that I can give you right now...

March 20th, 2008
My sister and I were trying to talk through some of our issues as children of a serious hoarder the other day and we came upon something we hadn't consciously realized before. We both realized that we have similar problems with our "true identity". For example, let's say someone knocks on my front door, I instinctively feel that familiar panic - oh no someone's here. Then I remember, I don't live with Mom anymore (relief), next I look around and see that things actually look O.K. (not perfect, so I'll stress a little about it later -but no way in H*LL am I going to make up random excuses and look like my Mom) so I let the "someone" in and have a little visit or whatever. Doesn't sound too bad, right? Here's the kicker though, after the visitor leaves I am RELIEVED that they didn't see the "REAL ME". Even though I'm not a hoarder like my Mother and I don't save stupid things like yogurt containers by the hundreds and I'm probably only as messy as a "normal" mother of 4 little ones, I don't feel normal. Rather, I am counting my lucky stars that the visitor came on a good day.

A lot of the time I feel as though I am watching my life happening from across the room, like I shouldn't be allowed to live that normal part. If someone compliments me on my beautiful home and how I have done such a great job decorating it, I thank them, but secretly I know that it's just luck it looks that way and thank goodness they don't know the truth about me (which is what??? That I have unfolded laundry downstairs and that makes me a bad person?), why can't I just live my life now? I don't know if this is making any sense at all to you, but when my sis and I were discussing it, we were floored that we both felt the same way...which is that we are sort of living two lives all the time, and the good one (the one where things get done and are organized and we are smart capable women) is the one that feels like a sham.

I just feel that I am always on the verge of being "found out". I feel that "nice things" are not my right or privilege, like I don't deserve them really. So if I happen to have nice things, it feels as if I am just borrowing them or maybe just visiting - like at a hotel or someone else's home. If I manage to get some organization in my own home, deep down I know that it will never last and so I can't enjoy it for what it is (everyday life)-instead I focus on the mess that must inevitabely follow and how will I ever keep up...

Thanks for dropping by! Just a quick note: I have been receiving emails from people who would like my permission to put this blog on their blogroll and I say go ahead! Since this is my "secret" blog (at this point I haven't even told my hubby about it) I have been unsure about how to get it out there for people to read. But it seems to be working all the same!

Just the facts, please...

First, I know the blog is a little visually challenged right now (alright, it's just plain BORING to look at)! But I have a plan to fix that... my Mom is going out of town for the weekend and I am going to sneak over and take some pictures of the hoard. I plan on taking LOTS of pictures and using them as "visual aids" in my upcoming posts. Cross your fingers that the key she gave me to the house still works, on second thought maybe we should all say a prayer! No really, I may need the help of a higher power, I've seen the bucket she pulled it from and there were at least 50 keys in it! Of course she doesn't know what they are all for, just that they might be to something important. Like the car that has been broken down in the driveway for the last four years. But I digress...
Second, I apologize for my polling options over on the right side of your screen. I really had no idea that the second one would be cut off right at that point, thus implying that you are a child of a hoar... well it just looks kind of funny doesn't it? Apparently it is unchangeable after votes have been cast, so I guess I will get to look at it for the next 3 months!

Now on to today's post... A little background that will help you to understand me, if that's possible.

My Mother is the hoarder in our family. She lives at home with my father and their 2 dogs. Oh and my 18 yr old brother (although he will be spending the summer with me). There are 6 six children in our family (including me).

My Mom's parents and all 4 of her siblings suffer from obsessive compulsive hoarding to some degree.

I am NOT a hoarder, but I struggle to cope with most daily cleaning and organizational tasks, as well as major identity/self esteem issues.

My sister may be hoarder, we are working through this (she and I talk daily, she will be the first one I tell about this site when I'm ready).

I am 31 years old and have been out of my Mother's house since the age of 17. I am married to a wonderfully supportive man and we have 4 beautiful children (please, please don't let me screw them up).

I mistakenly thought that when I moved out of my mother's home, my problems would be solved. Like a bad dream, it would all disappear as I carved out my own life -free of the mess and the craziness! The thing is, it never goes away. It haunts me every day of my life as I struggle to make sense of even the simplest of tasks. It is always there, tainting each of my accomplishments. Lurking deep inside, letting me know that no matter what parts of me I show to everyone else, that no matter how fabulous I may seem to others the fact remains that I'm NOT. And I never will be... unless I can make peace with it.

So what is It? It is Obsessive Compulsive Hoarding Disorder. I don't even suffer from it and yet, it is ruining my life.

That's my life... in a nutshell. A really small nutshell.

Shhhh... don't tell

There is a part of my life I keep secret. It’s not a fun secret either (I’m no Hanna Montana) my secret is more complicated than just a double life. Wanna know what it is? Wait, I’m not ready to tell -and yet… I am. I’m tired of keeping this secret. I need to vent, to share, to open up, to SCREAM, and… I need validation. Maybe I’m not crazy, maybe I’m not alone, maybe, just maybe there are others like me who are keeping the same secret. O.K. I’m definitely being a little overdramatic here, and also a little untruthful. I happen to know already that there are others who suffer as I do. I found an online support group a while back and every now and then I get on and vent. The thing is, the group is prohibited to outsiders. Only people possessing the same secret are allowed, this makes it a nice safe, comfortable environment for us to share with each other. And I like it, I need it, sometimes I crave it (does that make me crazy?), just knowing that there are others out there who suffer as I do makes me feel more "normal". And believe me the people are like me - A LOT like me, and like me they hide their secret from those around them. Sometimes when I am reading one of their posts I have to keep glancing down to see the author, because I could have sworn it was written by me.

What I really want to know is what would happen if the so called “normal” people really knew about me (about people like me) and my struggles with this “secret”. What if everyday, run of the mill people could "walk a mile in our shoes"? What if they delved a little deeper than those so called television specials that highlight people's secrets for shock value, for the fabulous quick fix, for the before and after (but not really after) so we can boost our ratings factor.

So I'm starting this blog to write about my secret. I have another blog, it’s the one about my “real” life - the hubby, the kids, the daily grind of motherhood. It’s for my family, my friends, the in-laws, and people from my past who might want to see me now. That blog is about letting people who know me see my wonderful life. It is for everyone to look and say "Hey, she still looks good, I can't believe she's had four kids" and "What a lovely little life she has carved out for herself". Oh and let's not forget "Everything she does looks so perfect, I wish I could be her". Of course I'm not telling any of those people about this blog... not yet anyway. This blog will be reserved solely for my secret, how to cope daily with it, how to overcome it (if that's even remotely possible), and most importantly how to merge my two selves into one well adjusted, comfortable in my own shoes kind of self! It should be an interesting sojourn, and I long for some company. Please feel free to join me.

Oh yeah, oops... I almost forgot to tell you my secret, here goes [me taking a deep breath] ...
I grew up as a child of an obsessive compulsive hoarder and I struggle daily with many, many insecurities and leftover issues.

Yes, just like those "crazy" people you've seen on Oprah. I'm one of them, or rather I'm a product of one of them. This is about me and my so called "double" life. I think I'll leave it at that for today, I need a little space (something I didn't get much of as a child).