Still...

Is July really half-way over? I apologize for not posting sooner, but my "other" blogs have been getting most of my attention these days. This is a good thing, I think...

So much has changed over the last few weeks, but I think it has all been in my mind - literally.

I'm not so mad at my Mom these days.
I've been having a lot of fun with the kids and focusing less on my bad qualities.
I don't think it's my job to change Mom's hoarding habits (WARNING... this could be a temporary thing).
My life is pretty peaceful right now, I feel like I'm in a good place.

And yet so much has stayed the same...

Mom & Dad are still out of town.
My office desk is still a mess.
I still hate hoarding.
I still can't figure out how other people keep it all together (clean house, organized, etc...).
I'm still trying to find that balance between staying close to and loving my Mom for who she is and keeping keeping my distance from her hoarding and other OCD tendencies.

There is more, but it's late and I need to spend some quality time with my hubby... later!

Transformation...

My Mom is out of town and I've been avoiding even thinking about her house. Once or twice the thought has crossed my mind to just pop over there and haul out a couple of bags of garbage. She'll never notice... or will she?

Last week when she was still home a bag of garbage came up missing. Seriously! Mom saves all her mail (yes all of it) and sorts it into piles. One of those piles is for anything she thinks may be subject to identity theft (she is absolutely terrified of having this happen to her), this type of mail must be completely destroyed. Anyhoo... this particular bag happened to have some credit card offers and things like that in it. Mom had labeled the bag with a permanent marker with the words "TO BURN" on it and set it somewhere in the piles of junk in the front room. Then just before her trip she noticed it was missing. I have no idea how, but she seems to have some sort of a mental inventory of all that crap filling up the house.

She asked my Dad if he took it. Nope. She asked my brother if he took it. Again, NO! Anyone who lives with my Mother knows better than to touch anything, let alone throw it away - not even garbage. She asked them both at least 20 more times, just to be sure. It was then she started panicking. She kepst nagging my Dad and Brother until my Dad came over to my house to escape (this is when he told me all about it). At this point, Mom had come to the conclusion that someone (a total stranger) must have come into the house and stolen (of all things) that bag! She is almost certain that her identity is being compromised at this very moment. Never mind that it is total lunacy to even think someone would actually have been stupid enough to think that there was something of value to steal in that house. And it is ridiculous to think that somehow they would have gotten past the dogs into the front room. And let's just say that they did, they most certainly would have turned right back around and run out as fast as they could having been overwhelmed by the sheer amount of junk piled up all around them. But let's get back to Mom, who by this time was frantically searching the house, the garbage cans, and any other place that this very important bag of garbage may have been placed.

Several hours later my parents left town having never found the bag and I was left with a surer knowledge that my Mom does not think rationally, or logically, and I hate how these little episodes always leave me feeling like i've lost something too (namely a little piece of my Mom).

I called my sister to talk about it and she told me that Mom was over at her place the other day and took home a bunch of stuff she had thrown out in the garbage... sigh*

Later that evening, another of my brothers (who doesn't live at home anymore) came over to my place for a visit. I started to tell him about the lost bag... he got this look on his face. Oh my gosh, he knows what happened to the bag!

It turns out he took it. He was going camping that evening and saw that the bag said "TO BURN" on it, so naturally he took it and used it to start his campfire.

I made him call my Dad and tell him right then. My parents were still driving to their destination and Mom was so glad to know what had happened to the bag. Except now she is worried that my brother might not have burned all the contents of the bag. She explained how she had important documents (credit card offers) of my sisters (at least now we know why she took trash from my sister's place) and a couple of my brothers all together in that bag and she was just so worried about their identities being stolen along with hers.

So all in all, my Mom was right. Someone did "take" the bag from her house. It doesn't make me feel any better though. In fact, I feel worse. From this whole incident, I learned that my Mom is paranoid to the point of stealing trash out of our (mine and my siblings) garbage cans to "protect" us. I learned that my Mom doesn't think about things rationally (in that she actually believed that someone would steal a bag of garbage from inside her house). And that she is getting worse. Slow as it may seem, time is stealing my "normal" Mom from me.

How long before I don't even know her anymore? When will this "transformation" be complete?

My Precious...

There is so much of my Mother's story being told in this picture, where to begin...


Let's start with the T.V. You see it there in the middle, all duct taped up? This is a classic example of my Mom's thriftiness (and unwillingness to throw anything out). You probably can't see the holes in the front of it where the buttons have been broken off. We used to have to poke inside those with a pencil to be able to change the channels and change the volume. We had to do this because the remote was always lost (naturally). Fortunately my Mom came up with a solution; she affixed a string to the remote and then superglued it to the armchair! This worked until the batteries ran out and then no one ever got around to replacing them... and then we were back to the pencils.


Now let's take a look at all the videos over on the right side of the pic. See those? These are a testament to my Mom's total addiction to free or almost free deals. Who has videos still? My Mom, of course! Did you know that people are practically giving those things away at yard sales? And my Mom is out there snapping them all up, what a bargain!


Over on the right of the entertainment center are her most "precious" things. These are valued more than most things piled up around the house (if that's possible). How do I know this? They actually have a "place", a permanent spot, if you will. Everything else in the house is subject to churning (moving from one place to another). You would think that I would be happy about these things having a "spot" and all... but I'm not.


These "precious" things are mostly little trinkets brought by different family members from far away places and some treasured keepsakes from my Mom's past. None of them are worth much monetarily (the usual souveneir type junk), but to my Mom they might as well be Faberge eggs. I know that everyone has stuff like this and it's normal to hold things with sentimental value in higher esteem. But these types of things to a hoarder like my Mom can be taken to a whole new level.


Case in point... There are a couple of lovely little nesting dolls from Russia in the case. Naturally the grandkids gravitate towards these, what kid wouldn't? I remember playing with a set of nesting dolls at my Grandma's when I was little. It's a very pleasant memory. Here's what my Mom's grandchildren get to remember: My Mom throwing an absolute tantrum, because the kids got the dolls out (without permission of course - because my Mom would never let them touch them) and one of the smallest dolls (smaller than your thumbnail, I think) got stepped on. Mom went on and on and on about how special these dolls were and how they were absolutely irreplaceable and the kids are NEVER to get into that case... blah... blah... The overall result being that the grandkids now know (just like we did when we were kids) that "things" are more important to grandma then they (the kids) are.

I know my Mom didn't intend for that to be the result. But that's how it is.

That's how it's always been...

It's one of the things that bothers me the most about this "hoarding" disease. It's hard to know where I stand with my Mom. She is such a kind and caring person otherwise that it is difficult to imagine that she actually values the "stuff" filling up her house more than she does her own children. But I've seen her freak out one too many times to not believe it. I'm so confused. I don't know where I fit in to her value system and that hurts.

Just another day...

It's Father's Day.

My parents live about a minute and a half from my house.

And I haven't even gone over to wish my Dad Happy Father's Day... sigh

I really, really, REALLY, don't want to go over there and have to see the mess.

It's one thing to hear about it (which I have from other family members), it's another thing entirely to have to hang out in it! I know exactly what will happen if we show up on the doorstep...

First Mom will make a whole bunch of excuses as to "why" the house looks the way it does (as if it doesn't ALWAYS look that way). Mostly things like, "Your Father needs to take care of his stuff" (five of the five hundred things in the front room belong to my Dad), or maybe "I haven't been feeling all that well" (which seems to occur every time she even thinks about cleaning), or a favorite of mine, "I've just been so busy cleaning the [fill in the blank] that I haven't had time to clean up in here". Keep in mind that "cleaning" means moving things from one room to another, thus giving one room the appearance of being clean while simultaneously piling things to the ceiling in another. I really hate it when she makes it excuses. I think she really believes what she is saying, and that makes me sad... and mad.

Sometimes, I find myself making excuses. It's ingrained in me. I usually force myself to stop (before I start to sound crazy, I hope). But I digress...

As she is rattling off excuses she will start shuffling things about in a mad rush, moving papers from one surface to another, clearing a couple of spots to sit down. I will hold the baby on my lap because it is too unsafe to let her toddle about in the crap and all the other kids will head outside (thank heavens) to play... wait a minute!

HOLD EVERYTHING!

I haven't been over to Mom's since the seasons changed! It turns out we can go over to see my parents today. You see, when the weather is decent we all sit and visit out in the shade of the tree out front. In the summer and early fall, people visiting my parents don't actually have to be subjected to the mess, the excuse making, the overall craziness! It's peaceful and relaxed, almost normal!

Well, I had better go get the kids ready!

Answers...

I've been slacking on my posts lately and I'm sorry... sort of.

There is something else you should know about me, something important. You need to know because it's going to affect my posts.

It's really a few things all twisted up into one.

First, for some reason (and it's always been like this for me) I only write in my journal - you know, Dear Diary, blah,blah...- when I am "worked up" about something. It's kind of sad, really, to look back through my half-empty journal and only be able to read about those times in my life. It's just one of my quirks.

Second, I'm not always mad about the hoarding. Seriously! I go in cycles. Every three months or so it just seems to hit me full force. I get really mad at first, my Sis and I talk it over (every day for a couple of weeks). I stalk around, I "purge" (clean out MY house, because I can), sometimes I try to talk to Mom and try to "save" her. And then,after I realize the hopelessness of the situation, the feelings just kind of dissipate. Afterwords, I distance myself from the hoarding - not only physically, but mentally as well. I pretend it doesn't even exist!

Third (and last), I started this blog during one of those aforementioned times. This past week I was in the process of distancing myself, when I realized that maybe this time I shouldn't.

Maybe I feel so split (that whole "double identity" thing), because I am unwilling to blend my two selves together. Does that make sense? When I am focused on the hoarding issues, I don't allow myself to feel happy and lead a normal life. I don't even think of myself in positive terms, it seems I can't do anything right. And when I am done with that and ready to move on, I don't allow myself to acknowlegde the negative influence of my Mom's hoarding and my past.

I ignore it completely, pretend it's all good. Move on with my life for a time.

But it never really goes away. Hence the "cycles".

(I find this all very ironic having just finished reading "The Host" by Stephenie Meyer - read it and you'll see what I mean) I just had to throw that in.

So I'm going to continue to post. And I'm going to face things this time. I'm going to find my peace of mind. I'm going to finish what I've started and figure out the answers. I'm going to...

go clean the kitchen.

Later...

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?

Environ{mentally} conscious...

(From Wikipedia)
"While there is no definition of compulsive hoarding in accepted diagnostic criteria (such as the current DSM), Frost and Hartl (1996) provide the following defining features:
*The acquisition of, and failure to discard, a large number of possessions that appear to be useless or of limited value
*Living spaces sufficiently cluttered so as to preclude activities for which those spaces were designed
*Significant distress or impairment in functioning caused by the hoarding
*Reluctance or inability to return borrowed items"

Here is an example of the second feature described above...

This is the bathtub/shower in the downstairs bathroom at my parents house...

Needless to say it is unusable and has been for a couple of years now.

In the bathroom upstairs it's a whole different story.

This is a picture of the toilet. Mom says it doesn't flush very well (meaning "not at all"), since calling in a plumber is not an option (too expensive, but what she really means is too embarrassing) - my Mom came up with her own solution!

See the buckets of water in the pictures? There are more in the shower. My mom just uses the water in those to flush the toilet. Another excuse for this is "saving money by reusing the shower water".
Crazy or Genius?

You tell me...