Thursday, February 28, 2013

More from 'out of the mouth of a hoarding mother'

Today I left work to travel to a town a couple hours away for my consulting gig as a trainer.  It is a small town, and the road there is mainly 4 lane and interspersed with 'Miracle Mile' types of findings.  Since I left the office almost at 6pm instead of 3pm, I drove for the majority of the trip and decided to check in.

I mentioned that due to interviewing back to back today, I did not have a proper lunch, so I had best find food.  (My new size 10s?  Hanging off me.  I need to remedy that.)  So I said I was going to stop in the next wide spot in the road to get a bite to eat... (and to relieve myself of the pain of failing brain cells due to the monologue that was occurring from my mother).  

"Will you go in or get it to go?"

I am honestly not sure.  I have zero appetite, so I am just looking for anything that might be appetizing to me at this point.  I should get it to go/hit a drive through so I can keep rolling.  Meeting any of Bambi or his extended family for an automotive Harlem Shake does not interest me.

"Aren't you afraid to eat like that?"

Like what?

"In the car like that, alone, in the dark."

Um NO.  [Why should I?  At this point I am seriously not getting where she is going... I am a big girl, I seldom make a mess, and besides, it is MY CAR.  The luxury one I bought 5 years ago lightly used and am about to make the final payment on!  And it now has 160K on it.  I am over the 'new baby' gloves with it.]

"Aren't you afraid someone will do something stupid and you only will have one hand driving?  I just had .... [devolves into a story]."

No.  I am not.

"What if you get choked?"

It will suck to be me.

"What if someone follows you?  Woman out alone, nice car, dressed nice..."

Um-  I am sure the 7 year old Acura beats walking, and yes, it is nicely kept and you would be hard pressed to tell it is closing in on 200K, but it is a grandma car.  

The questions continued, getting more and more bizarre and more frantic.  Then I did it.  I was laughing silently, and I ...

I snorted.

"What was that?"


"You!  You were laughing!  You are an asshole!"

Okay- am here.  Gotta go.  Buh bye.

Earlier in the conversation she was obsessing over me leaving my cats for about 36 hours.  That was a LOVELY one sided conversation.

I am trying a new technique.  When she is mining into the ridiculous, the absolute worst case scenario, I do not say anything, and answer in closed statements.  And the silence draws out until she is compelled to fill it.

Interesting.  I may keep a grip on my tenuous sanity yet.

Maybe.  Have a good night all!

Saturday, February 23, 2013

Now what?!?

Oh boy.  I am sitting here wondering what in the hell is being mailed/shipped by direction.

My first day off in over a month or longer 12+ hour work days... whooo hooo!  My first night of full and uninterrupted sleep since November (I wish I was exaggerating) so I am being lazy.  My plans for today are the gym, and NOTHING ELSE.  Including talking to my mother.  

So much for that.  My phone rang, and without looking at it I answered.  Ugh.  It was my mother.  

No hello, no greeting like a normal person... And in a tone I assume someone would use if he or she were conducting business that would impact international safety for all the free world...

"No questions!  I am going to ask you a a question and I just need the answer and nothing else... What is the last 2 your house number?"

Gave her the 2 digits...

"Shit!  Are you sure? Oh, oh right.  I will talk to you later."  

<Call ended>

Seriously?  What the bloody hell?  And yes, Mother, I have lived here 5 years.  I hope that I know my address.

So- is she not respecting my wishes to NOT receive packages from hell?  Is she continuing her coupon mailing madness?  Or is this simply more of her gaslighting?  It would not be cricket to let me have a peaceful day/weekend after the days and weeks of work HELL that I just endured.   

(For those not familiar with the movie that spawned this term... it is known as a 'mindfuck' in the most basic of vernacular).

This is triggering.  As a teen who had just been recently dumped back into public school and was traversing the craziness of junior high, she would tell me all kinds of things, then when I would share them, she would deny it.  Crazy things that I so blindly believed because mothers don't lie like that ... do they?  Things like:

  • I was born enroute to NY to visit some of my dad's family's friends.  
    • Truth- she has flown ONCE.  To Tampa in the 50's.
    • Truth- Dad was raised all over the country.  His dad was in the Bureau, and he spent the majority of his pre-Appalachia existence in NY state, and a couple of years in Manhattan.  He did not maintain many friendships in NY, thanks to her.
  • 'Sheila'- a second or third cousin died of MS when I was a teen
    • Truth- I am still not sure how this chick enters into the family... the only thing that makes me think she was related was her strong physical resemblance to me, other than she was blue eyed and lighter haired than I.  (Well, and she sounds just like me, my mother, my aunt, my 1/2 niece and my first cousin... we sound almost identical in voice).  Oh- and she was a troublemaker and batshit crazy.  I know nothing about my mother's family to speak of.  Do not know surnames, etc.  Who the hell knows?
    • Truth- I do not know where she is now, but she  was alive and well in Ohio somewhere 15 years ago.  Uses a power chair now, and you would never know we are the same age or once could pass as twins... 
    • And who gave 'Sheila' phone numbers, details of my friends and boyfriend's lives?  By listening in on my private phone line?  Mother. She caused me a lot of drama... and how do you explain this?
  • 'Megan'- her sister's daughter... I was told she died of an overdose.  She lived with us briefly in hell-house when she was kicked out of my aunt's hell house.  She was accused of stealing much of my jewelry when she 'snuck out'.
    • Truth- She reappeared alive and well 2 years later at my maternal grandmother's funeral.  Wearing much of the stolen jewelry.
    • Truth- If she is to be believed, my mother told her to take it, that I did not appreciate it/take care of it anyway.  I do believe her... on that.

I could go on and on, these are remote and the more minor of the gaslighting she has done.  She is an expert on invalidating experiences, and rewriting history.  It could drive someone as crazy as she is.  Since I have such large gaps in my early memories... I have no idea if the few things I 'remember' are just because I have heard stories so many times from a young age through now... an indoctrination of another sort I guess.  I have no memory of anything before the age of 5 or 6, and little but flashes of this and that (maybe all together 10-20 snippets) before the age of 8 or 9.  Doing what I do for a living, I know that is a sign of hardcore trauma to a child.  I also was shocked to learn that many, many, MANY COH's have similar lack of memory in their early years.

Hoarding and the base mental illness/abuse of power and control (as in the interpersonal/relational violence model) that seemingly drives it.  It is truly the gift that keeps on giving.

Ugh.  Have a great Saturday everyone.

Update- Sunday 2/24/2013

All of that?  It was simply she had multiple envelopes of coupons, and addressed one incorrectly.  So she goes out to the car ... remember this is the woman who REFUSES to:

  1. Carry a purse into a store or business
  2. Carry her cell phone with her (see #1)
  3. Leave her cell phone on so she can use it quickly if she DOES happen to have it
  4. Do anything in any sort of way that facilitates convenience...hers, others, you get the picture...
I am still not 100% convinced that there is not something else to this story, but time will tell.  

Dreading.  The.  Mail.  Delivery.  On.  Tuesday.

Wednesday, February 20, 2013


Today is the day... after all the hints, the secrets, etc. I believe she is traveling to the larger town to see the surgeon in regards to what she has said is a 'torn ligament/tendon' in her hip that forces her to walk with a cane.

If this is the case, and she gets the word that she needs surgery, the dominoes will start fall.  If... and only IF... she needs surgery, the house is impassable.  No walker, no powerchair or wheelchair, and she has to climb over things and has stairs.  She has the poor cats.  She will most likely NOT consent to surgery, since a stay in a rehab would be likely ...  And this is all in the world of worst case scenario.  Not a place I usually live or like to visit.  

BUT.  She is frail, in her later 70's and has osteopenia and osteoporosis.  One day, this will most likely come to pass. 

And I cannot, will not, get sucked into this.  Unfortunately her choices over the past decades will have serious negative consequences.  

Keep your fingers crossed that this whole thing is some gaslighting/Munchhausen effort to induce guilt since I am so emotionally disconnected.

Hoarding SUCKS.  I will not let it impact me more than it has to this point. 

Monday, February 18, 2013

This might have been the breaking point... mine, hers, or the relationship...

I lost it.  Last night, I simply lost it on her.  And today, I cannot even say I am sorry.  Normally I am quick to apologize, not because I did something wrong, but I value the other person that much.  

Yesterday I almost did not call her, but since she has been on better behavior (okay... not really but I have not been as annoyed apparently) and her appointment with the orthopedic surgeon looms this week... I did.  And immediately regretted it.

"...[Answering in a near scream of rage and panic]... Hello?  HELLO!"

Hey- its me...

"Something TERRIBLE just happened here!  I DO NOT KNOW WHAT I AM GOING TO DO!"


"I can't find it.  I DROPPED IT!"  


"I bought something today, and I must have lost my debit card. THIS IS TERRRRRRIBLE!  I HAVE LOOKED EVERYWHERE!!!!"

{Thinking to myself... since when does she have a debit card?  She has steadfastly refused to get one, using her credit card much in the same way...} So have you called the place you last used the card?

"NO!  THEY DO NOT HAVE A LISTED NUMBER!  I called [the phone company] and asked for additional phone..."

I find it difficult to believe that a business does not have some sort of phone number...

"The bank is closed!  You know WHAT SOMEONE CAN DO WITH THAT CARD?!?! I will be ruined!"

Oh dear god...  Okay.  Call *Betty* [the neighbor to the back of her] and ask her to Google ...


Google Aldi and to Google ...

"Community Bank"

Google Community Bank and give you the phone numbers...

"Aldi does not have a listed number!!! And..."

Look.  They have some way to get a hold of them, and there will be a number on the bank website of who to call unless you have a copy of the back of your card or the letter that came with it handy...

"NO I DON'T!  I can't find it in this mess!  I never have made copies of my cards!"

Okay- you make 5 copies of a Family Circle Magazine Article but... Never-mind.  Are you sure it is not misplaced?  You have had the same thing happen with your credit card easily 5 or 6 times in the past year with all the drama, and you found it later...

"NO!  IT IS GOOONNNNNEEEE!  You know what someone can do with that?  I always put my purse in the back of the station wagon, in the cooler when I get to a store, and put my card in my shirt pocket so I don't have to mess with my purse and worry about it being stolen and I always [saving you, gentle reader, the mind numbing description of how she handles this and how she did not put her card in her purse upon returning to the car this time]."

Okay.  First of all, you are going to report it, so your liability is going to be limited.  [Attempted to explain the credit card limit of liability and the debit card limit and she cut me off, freaking out again.  Don't get me started on the 'safety' of pulling up somewhere, putting your purse in the hatch where you can be observed...]

"I do not know what I am going to do!!!!!!  [General freaking out ensues]."

Okay, this going from 0-60mph to absolute 'worst case scenario' has got to stop.  You are going to take care of this now.  I am driving, and my phone is so screwed up I cannot get online while using it, so call 'Betty' and ask her to do what I told you... Google Community Bank and Google Aldi...

"They do not have a number!  What am I asking for?"

Repeat the Google piece 4 or 5 times, she gets off the phone to call 'Betty'.  

I get to Panera to work (my technology issues continue, the only good news is my new iPhone is enroute as I type this), and I am there nearly 5 hours using their wifi.  (I ate 2 meals there, and spoke with the manager prior- he was so sweet and was okay with me staying so long... <3 him and that store!)  Anyway, I digress.  Waiting for my Chai, I quickly booted up my laptop, Googled Aldi and Community, and saw the numbers, etc.  FOR BOTH.  All in the time it took for them to get my drink.  Upon leaving I called to check in.  Keep in mind that I worked a bit less the past 2 weeks, only 135 hours + with only 9 hours of commuting, so I am doing better... but I was getting another migraine, no doubt from overwork and a nice dose of my hoarding mother.

So I did it.  I called back.  It is now after 8pm.  As soon as she picks up...

Hi, did you get it taken care of?

"[Evasively]Sort of, but not really..."

Why?  Did you call?

"Nooo... I told you, Aldi does not have a phone."

Seriously?  Why not?  I got to Panera, checked Google, and had both numbers in under a minute.  

"You don't understand!"

Then enlighten me!

"I called the police to see if they had an emergency number for the bank.  They said they did not, but I think they were lying..."

THAT is not an emergency Mother.  The bank being broken into is an emergency.  The bank burning down is an emergency.  THAT, THAT is NOT an EMERGENCY.  What the hell?

"...[continuing on with long drawn out droning story] so I looked on my [another bank credit card] and saw an 1-800 so I called them to ask if they had the number and it turned out that they handle that for Community and they did so I just got off the phone with them a bit ago..."

Why would you not call *Betty*?  In under a minute you could have had this resolved, or called me back and I could have called when I arrived at Panera.  This did not have to be an ordeal!

"You fail to understand something about *Betty*.  You don't understand."

Understand WHAT?

"She cannot keep a secret.  EVERYTHING is a TOPIC OF DISCUSSION."

OH. MY. GOD!  There is one thing to be private, but it is quite another to be so g*&da*^ secretive that you cannot get out of your own way to be part of the solution!  THIS IS NOT A BIG DEAL!  People lose their cards frequently, and it is not a a secret!  What is the worst that could happen?  She would call someone and they would run to Aldi, scour the lot, find the card... See what I mean?  <Deep breath>  You know what?  Change the subject.  I am done with this particular one.  I am not wasting my breath any further...

So as you can imagine, she was FURIOUS.  And was being passive aggressive.  And she is pouting.  And I am fed up with all the craziness, all the power and control, the secrecy, all of the things that she uses to ensure that she and I will NEVER have a normal relationship, and that she never will have any sort of reciprocal relationship with anyone.  Ever.  She has no concept of friendship, of the give and take, to her- asking for a favor means you owe something to someone in the worst way.  She keeps coming across things like, "When someone does something nice I want to know why... there is always a reason."  "When someone approaches me or changes how they interact there is always a reason- I want to know what the hell they want."

Let me give you a clue, Mother.  Many folks do not want ANYTHING from you.  And I do not want anything from you that you can or will give.  All I wanted as a child was to be loved, to have a family, to connect, to be a priority... not even your top one... just a priority.  That will never happen because you are making choices every single MINUTE to put the hoard and everything else above relationships... and me.

How sad.  Maybe you finally did it.  Maybe you broke this the rest of the way Mother.

Sorry for such a long and hateful blog.  I was thinking after 24 hours I would be better.  Sadly, I am not feeling better.  I am still just DONE.  

Have a good evening all.  

Northern Virginia Daily Article on Hoarding... My worst fear for my mother


^ Posted 1 day ago

A fatal fire last week in Warren County prompts action to make residents aware of hoarding's dangers

By Joe Beck
Warren County fire officials are planning an education initiative about the risks of hoarding in the aftermath of a fire in which a 72-year-old woman died as firefighters struggled to locate her amid a vast amount of stored items in her large home.
Firefighters arrived at the home of Pauline A. Hockett, 72, of 220 Locust Dale Road, Front Royal, at about midnight Thursday and found their efforts to rescue her slowed by a considerable amount of clutter, some of it reaching as high as 6 feet.
"Throughout the first floor of the home, these guys were actually walking or climbing over material in the home trying to locate the victim without knowing a definite area where the victim was at the time of the 911 call," Fire Marshal Gerry Maiatico said.
Maiatico estimated it took about 25 minutes to find Hockett in the basement where she had died from smoke inhalation and thermal inhalation.
He said it was impossible to know whether she could have been saved had the fire crew reached her sooner, but there was no doubt that "conditions in the home greatly hampered rescue efforts."
"They were tripping and falling over these items, they were running into roadblocks every couple of feet," Maiatico said of fire crew members.
Hockett's death was the first by fire in Warren County in five years. Fire Chief Richard E. Mabie has ordered his department to begin contacting several agencies in the county that would work with the Fire and Rescue Services on educating people about fire risks associated with hoarding.
Maiatico said Mabie is committed "to preventing the loss of life in the community and making sure this type of thing doesn't happen again."
Hoarding's dangers extend to emergency calls for medical attention when every second counts for paramedics trying to save a patient's life, Maiatico said.
"They cannot get in, and they have to remove the patient from the environment before they can start the treatment process," Maiatico said, adding that hoarding can also imperil first responders.
"We don't want to commit people to areas where we don't know what conditions they will find," he said.
Hockett's sons, Glenn, 40, and Jeff, 46, will be joining the education effort.
"I told them I'd be happy to be of assistance in any way we could," Jeff Hockett said of Fire and Rescue Services. He added that the family is asking that people donate money to the department's smoke detector program in lieu of flowers.
Maiatico said the smoke detectors functioned properly during the fire at the Hockett home. He elaborated on the source of the fire, which began with improper disposal of smoking material.
"Basically, this fire stemmed from cigarettes being placed in a trash receptacle, dumping ash trays into a trash can" he said. "The Department of Fire and Rescue Services wants to remind everybody to fill ash trays with water, then dump them into a receptacle to make sure all smoking embers and cigarettes themselves are extinguished."
Maiatico said all cigarettes are required to be fire safe, which means they carry an additive that allows them to extinguish themselves if no one draws air through them.
"Even though that is a safety measure, it's not 100 percent," Maiatico said. "So we still say before you discard a cigarette, soak it with water."
Maiatico said the department's response to hoarding problems will focus on education and obtaining mental health support when hoarders are posing risks to themselves and others. No new enforcement actions or laws are planned, he said.
"We want to be respectful and focus on safety issues, not judge people on how they live and why they do the things they do," Maiatico said.
He said he was especially pleased that the Hockett family is prepared to participate in the education campaign.
"The family is taking the position that if the story of Pauline can save someone else's life, then potentially some good can come out of something like this," Maiatico said.
Contact staff writer Joe Beck at 540-465-5137 ext. 142, or


Mental health professionals treating hoarding as mental disorder

^ Posted 1 day ago
By Joe Beck
Mental health professionals are about to formally recognize hoarding as a distinct mental disorder in the latest edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders to be published this spring.
Jeff Szymanski, a clinical psychologist and executive director of the International Obsessive Compulsive Disorder Foundation, said Tuesday the impending change is based on years of research and the experiences of therapists who have been treating patients for the affliction. The DSM, published by the American Psychiatric Association, is widely considered the most authoritative book for understanding mental disorders and potential treatments.
Szymanski estimated five to seven million people in the United States are hoarders, and more of them are coming to the attention of the rest of the public.
"Fire marshals are a great example because people who hoard in many instances hoard until their homes become fire hazards," Szymanski said.
Neighbors complain to authorities and landlords try to evict hoarders because they see a safety hazard to their property, Szymanski said. Complaints and pressure from outsiders are often the only way to persuade hoarders to get help, he added.
"Those who hoard typically don't seek treatment on their own," Szymanski said.
People should not confuse hoarders with pack rats and collectors whose tendency toward untidiness is a more manageable and less troubling personal trait, Szymanski said.
"Collectors have a lot of stuff, but collectors have their stuff organized," he said, adding, "pack rats may have cluttered households, but they use their possessions the way they were intended."
A pack rat may have a cluttered kitchen counter, but it's still recognizable as a counter and used for that purpose. But a hoarder may end up sleeping on a couch because the bed is already occupied by too many objects, Szymanski said.
"It's just the amount of clutter they have," he said. "It's impairing their functioning. It's interfering with their ability to use space around their home like they would like to do."
Szymanski said researchers and hoarding therapists are spearheading about 75 task forces around the country aimed at educating the public about hoarding. The task forces and more information about hoarding are listed at the web site
Contact staff writer Joe Beck at 540-465-5137 ext. 142, or

Dear Prudence's take on aging abusive parents

A timely article for me, and many COHs

I am not usually a fan of 'Dear Prudence'.  I often find many of her posts in regards to sexual assault victims disgusting and victim blaming... she can be a real rape apologist... That being said...

Home run Prudence.  Home run.  This could not be more timely.

Saturday, February 16, 2013

A twisted little tidbit of crazy...

So- spoke with Mom.

Conversation starts with a long, drawn out and drama filled discussion of a strange odor in her house, how she searched for it, her overly dramatic reasoning as she continues, etc.  She finally calls the neighbor to see if she or her boyfriend smelled anything.  During the call, the neighbor's boyfriend asked if she farted in a joking manner.  Not the most cultured comment, but ... And she was offended.  MORTALLY OFFENDED.  How dare her?  He does not even know her!  Why- she has never!  And on and on it goes, and she then begins to make comments about her neighbor since she associates with the likes of him.  She even spelled F-A-R-T.  This is the woman who has no problem cursing in the most vile and abusive way, and no word or combo of words is off the table for use.  But fart?  The travesty!!!  She hung up abruptly on her neighbor and is now avoiding her call.  The thing that frightens me?  That she could smell it at all over the hoard.  It must be horrendous.  I guess we shall see how that plays out. 

Her thought as I ended the call?

"Well- this may be bad, but anytime someone speaks to me or tries to be 'friendly' I immediately wonder what they want or what they want to do to me.  So NO THANK YOU! You are not mooching off of me, trying to move in because I have a nice car and a home that is paid for."  

<The 20 year old Honda and the Hoard House? Ai yi yi!>

What do you say to that?  Ahem...

Friday, February 15, 2013

Not that I am a fan of Larry the Cable Guy but...


Just in case you are not into US pop culture here is a [BAD] link to give you the idea...

So, lucky me, my mother has other anatomical obsessions other than hair on her lip and down south, poop, and anything else that can ooze or erupt.  Yup- the woman is simply obsessed with talking about her moles.  And she apparently has A LOT of them.  In seriously unsavory places.  And she likes to describe them in detail that would make a proctologist PUKE.

So... I call to check in, and in the midst of some rant she switches to how she caught a mole in her plastic underpants that cover her adult diaper and she now knows what is making it sore since IT IS STILL STUCK THERE.


You are welcome.  If I have to have that visual... I am taking someone with me to the aisle of memory bleach and a brain plunger.  

She then tries to begin to talk about what she found sticking her hand down in the diaper, and rooting around.

Um... NO.  I would like to have some sort of peaceful, happy, appetizing thought come back to me in the next day or two.


Welcome to my world...

Been a long time... but... More of 'Wait... What?'

Sorry I have been remiss in my blogging of late.  Long work weeks and all kinds of technical drama (surly hotspots, failing servers, OH MY!) that is boring but tedious.  I am hoping to come out on the other side, alive, and hopefully... sane.  Or as sane as I ever hope to be.

So a bit of Oh. My. God. She. Did. Not. Actually. Say. THAT!

I called to check in on her.  She has been a bit more measured and calm lately since I have been pretty much silent on the calls, and getting off very quickly when the negativity escalates.  

I was driving along, not really paying all that much attention when she diverts to a story about her cats doing something that cats normally do, especially when they are in a HOARD.  Poor things.  Anyway- all I caught was the tail end of a sentence.  What I thought I heard was:

"...the little YARD APES."

And as I drive along with my mouth ajar... she says those two words over and over again...

So I decided to ask her about it. I suspected the origins of this type of comment that she would assert is simply harmless vernacular-  but I perversely had to ask her about it.

So Mom, that term.  What do you mean by it?

"Why do you ask?  There is nothing wrong with it!  It is what I call unruly children!  Why I ..."

So do you think that someone might perceive that as having racist origins?

"NOOOO!  You are acting like you did over me calling 'black' people 'colored' or 'negroids'.  It is not like I say the N-word."

Is there any type of slang or familiar word of that sort you would use in its stead?  A synonym perhaps?

"... [sulkily]... your dad would have said 'porch monkeys'..."

[And I loved, still love my father.  But I in no part love his racism, classism, or ethnocentrism.]

"You know what that is right?  That is pejorative term like the N-word.  It is like constantly calling folks and their families 'tribes' or 'that tribe'."

---dial tone---

My other most recent go-around with her was her sizeism and fat shaming behavior.  She is obsessed with those who have higher BMIs.  The disdain in her voice, the shaming, the assumptions... and she seems to forget... to her once morbidly obese daughter.  As a older teen I struggled to get above 98 pounds until I was ready to graduate college, then in my later 20's I gained, but in my thirties my weight bounced up and down.  As it has in my forties.  Right now I am a size 10 misses (US) but at my largest I was in a 22W (also US).  It has been 2 1/2 years of dieting, working out, and hard work to get here.  I would like to lose 30 pounds more, but my focus is on overall health.

Also, with her preoccupation with folks' appearances, their weight, etc. one would think that she herself is appropriately dressed, coiffed, showered, and is blade thin.  Not the case.  Personal hygiene is poor at best (a real shower and hair washing once a week is a goal she seldom meets).  I could go on, but you get the idea.  Sadly- part of this illness is the amazing lack of insight or empathy.  She makes statements about those she describes as 'fat' as being 'sloppy' and 'shoving food in [his or her] face' and other types of judgement  but her gains are due to medication, etc. I am constantly shamed for my weight, appearance, etc.  'I am so shocked ... you were always so 'trim' as a youngster...'  

Although I try to find humor in the narcissism of this illness, it often frustrates me, and makes me sad.  How miserable it must be to be so ill that you must surround yourself in objects, and drive off any chance of a normal relationship with anyone... even your children.  How simply devastating it must be to live one's life as opportunity lost, and to always be nursing hurts from 70+ years of experience as if they happened today, and to be so caught in the web of personality disorders and addiction that you cannot even remotely begin to see other people as separate, having separate experiences, perceptions and points of view.

Hoarding... No one wins.  No one.  Someday I hope... 

Well... I think we all know what I hope.  I don't think I am being pessimistic when I say I am very confident that I will not get what I hope for her.  I think I am being realistic.

Have a good night all.  Peace.