Saturday, April 27, 2013

Just a note to 'Wonderful Strangers' of people who hoard...

Many quote worthy conversations in the past few days, but none that trigger me like the one she had yesterday with her chiropractor.  For those of you just reading for the first time, this person graduated from high school with me, and my mother has used her 'audience' with this woman to run me down and play the 'poor elderly woman who is neglected' role with her.  She is also obsessed with the fact this woman is a lesbian, and is constantly speculating about her income and cost of her vehicles and such.  Oh... and is fixated on her mode of dress and weight.  

So, I called her today, and she informed me that 'Dr. Wednesday' asked her if she had any relatives in town.  Mother advised she did not, which is partially true.  Most of our relatives are dead and gone, and she essentially drove her hoarding, narcissistic sister out of town with her campaign of hate and craziness. She is totally estranged from any of her maternal or paternal family, to the point I do not know surnames or if they are alive, etc.  'Wednesday' asked if she thought I would ever return to town to live.  She was informed that no, I would not.  And she preceded to expound on the reasons SHE perceives I will not... some are true (like being so economically challenged - my home state is in the heart of Appalachia, job opportunities, I have lived elsewhere so long that my current state is home) and then she had to start in... that I hate my home state, "I think she is afraid she might have to actually lift a finger and help around here" and blah blah blah.  NICE.  She was asked if she would consider moving closer to me ... to which she said that traffic, etc. was too bad, and several other excuses, like this area is the 'big city'.  Um... NO.  She also stated that she doesn't know why I wouldn't come back, she 'wouldn't bother'  me.  She further stated that all I do is work, I am never home (true during grant season at work) and that I am always out 'running' her derisive descriptor for the things you do with friends...

That kind of discussion strikes a trill of fear into my little, cold, black heart.  <You're a mean one, Ms. Grinch...>  I am very happy with 7 hours of travel between us.  It keeps the craziness limited to phone and ground mail.  I have been contemplating my next career move, and whether I will move out west... Even further away.  The problem with that is, my friends who are like family are here.  And although I am confident I would meet new and wonderful friends, and would stay in touch with the ones so important to me, I am not sure I WANT TO at this point.  So no rush.

I know this doctor means well, and although she has to suspect my mother has mental illness, (the personal hygiene should tell her if nothing else) she is my hoarding mother's newest 'Wonderful Stranger'.  She is probably using conversations regarding me to keep a rapport going with my mother.  We are connected on Facebook.  I just wish she would STOP. Honestly, I wish she had never acknowledged she knew me.  

I wish 'Wednesday' well, as she will undoubtedly find at some point in the not too distant future, that the fall from the 'Wonderful Stranger' pedestal is a hard and crazy one.

What I really wish is simple.  I wish folks would stop pushing and assuming that all families are functional and healthy families. Or at least, understand that some families are so full of abuse and narcissism that it is unsafe, both physically and emotionally, to have any sort of close, meaningful relationship.  I would also like for folks to understand that if someone is estranged or has taken the 'geographical solution' most times there is a reason, and to quit picking around the edges of it.  Some things cannot be fixed, nor should they be.  Some decisions have consequences, and sometimes the hoarder gets what he or she wants, to be alone with their stuff.  And some distance from an what seems to be a vulnerable elderly relative is not abuse or neglect, it is simply protecting yourself from further harm.  There is a minimum of 2 sides to each situation...

You cannot want something more than the hoarder does.  You cannot fix it in spite of or under the radar of the hoarder.  All an adult COH can do is set appropriate boundaries it takes to give you the space to heal.  In my case, that is 7 hours of driving time and 5 or so phone calls a week to check in.

Dr. 'Wednesday' will find out how 'pathetic, lonely, misunderstood and frail' this hoarding person is when she no longer serves the role my mother has scripted ... since no one has different opinions, life-truths, etc. than her... everyone is merely an extension of the Lifetime movie script that plays in her head.

Hoarding, no one wins.

Friday, April 19, 2013

Another episode of paranoia unchecked...

She is simply amazing, my hoarding mother, and not in a good way...

Yesterday or the day before I spoke to her briefly.  She was FURIOUS about something.  After her normal repertoire of fast food drama, issues at Walmart, etc. she finally got to it.  What has pissed her off THIS time.  

She found marks that look like an animal sprayed on her siding of her house.  How she can tell with all the weeds, dirt, etc. I could not tell you.  I will spare you the long drawn out story, but she is convinced that her despised neighbor 'In-the-turn' has spit tobacco juice about 18 inches up from the ground on her siding.  Um... okay.  She also has a list of new and equally crazy allegations that to her, are 'a smoking gun' that he is hanging around her house at night.  They are all inconsequential and she IS getting worse. Much worse.

In her rant she also stated that "...and I got a call from HER last night and she can just go f#$k herself, I am done.  I wouldn't ask her to inconvenience herself [insert normal rant of this type by rote, even inflection and vernacular].  I have asked her to help me and well, she could not be bothered, so forget her..."  [And by HER she means the neighbor directly behind her...]

What did you want her to do?

"I wanted to ask if I could have a small box built and put on her roof with a trail camera in it to get the SOB as he..."

WHAT?  Her house is several hundreds of yards from your house, let alone HIS house.  A trail camera is most likely not going to work, and will get spectacular views of her horses and goats near your fence

"Well.  There have been times I have asked for her help and SHE WOULD NOT DO IT.  Well, THAT IS FINE.  I am thinking about having another storage shed built and putting the camera in it..."

You get the picture.  Pun somewhat intended.

What was the song by Patsy Cline my mother would sing at the top of her voice when I was a small child, home alone with her?


Oy.  I often wonder what will break first.  Her physical being, or her mental health... or my resolve to check in on her.  She is simply miserable, so unhappy, that she is toxic.

Oh- the other conversation with her this week I wanted to share....

"I went and saw you-know-who..."

No- I don't.

"... and so I have decided to see that chiropractor, 'Morticia' [who was in my graduating class at high school and sat next to me at graduation].  She asked where I lived, and how long I had lived there.  I told her since 1968... and she JUST LOOKED AT ME.  She finally asked how YOU went to 'Yadda High' when you lived in 'Blah Blah High's district.  I was so shocked I was not thinking fast enough, and I stumbled around a bit.  I told her that YHS had better academic programs and the classes you needed for college [true] and when she asked about address I told her we owned a house in Parkersburg that districting was no problem."

Holy-rewriting-history- and-making-something-an-issue-that-is-no-longer-relevant Batman!  Most of what she said was a LIE.  Outright.  The truth is:

  1. She caused so much trouble with the kids, the parents, et al in my home neighborhood, and with my teachers that my parents pulled me out of school in 2nd grade and sent me to a private school as Dad vehemently opposed me being skipped ahead a grade or two, and I was already taking reading with the older kids, which made me OH-SO-POPULAR at school, that and being dressed like a demented Shirley Temple.
  2. At the end of the 4th grade year she had stirred so much crap there too that I needed to be moved again, and this time I was not happy about it.  I had been allowed to work ahead at my own pace, and in many areas was doing 7th and 8th grade work.  I also began to have an opinion of my own, and at 10 years old she wrote me off as incorrigible (and nothing could have been further from the truth!) and because of the nonstop battle zone, Dad took me to Grandma's to stay, since my mother refused to look at me, speak to me, cook anything (I was not allowed to cook save heat up Spaghetti O's or nuke pizza) and since I was not allowed to use the washer, anything of mine that ended up in with their clothes was thrown wet on the floor to mildew.  
  3. I was basically thrown away by my mother at 10, and her jealousy and anger grew towards me, and my relationships with my father and his mother.
  4. I stayed at my grandmother's until I left for college, only going home to see my cat and to spend the occasional weekends which were BATTLE ZONES.
  5. We did NOT own a house in that town, despite her rationalization to me that prior to the house she currently lives in, she owned a house there.  
She was absolutely freaked and ordering me to not out her.  When I informed her that everyone in Admin at YHS knew I lived out of district, she was angry.  I explained the energy expended to lie about this was utterly unnecessary since I have been out of HS for 26 years.  

She then went on to talk about buying bike shorts at Walmart to 'give her support' and ... BLECH.

She also immediately started asking about Facebook and the fact that 'Morticia' and I are friends there.  I am sure you can imagine.  

Enjoy?  :-/

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

I am so not sure what is real in relation to her medical challenges... an update on her hip injury...

So for those who are new to this blog, my mother has had an issue with her hip since July.  She has had at least 2 rounds of physical therapy, one was to include hydrotherapy which she declined.  She blames the first PT provider with damaging her leg further, and blames an antibiotic for causing her leg pain.  She now walks with a cane.  She has severe osteoporosis and osteopenia, among other things.  

She was referred to a specialist in a larger town about 70 miles from her home after being told she had a torn ligament in her hip.  Two cortisone shots later and two appointments later, she cancelled her 3rd appointment with this specialist/surgeon.  This was contributed to by her behavior at the last appointment, where she was rude and demanding to the reception staff, the nursing staff, and the doctor.  She has now decided he 'treated her different' and 'acted funny'.  Sorry Dr. Whomever-you-are... that fall from the 'Wonderful Stranger' pedestal is an abrupt and catastrophic one.

She had a primary care physician appointment today. She had him look at her leg, which apparently has a 'groove' and a 'pulled place'.  With the really obtuse yet dramatic detail she often uses in reference to her issue and the doctor's opinion, she finally discloses that:
  1. Neither cortisone injection helped
  2. That this change in her leg has happened since the last specialist visit 6-8 weeks ago
  3. The PCP told her to stop the shots, that she has scar tissue and muscle atrophy from the botched PT sessions
  4. That her leg is NEVER GOING TO GET BETTER... [screaming emphasis is hers]
  5. Her Lupus is active again
Earlier this week she went to her eye doctor.  She has cataracts (possibly contributed to by some of her heavy use of corticosteroids for Lupus and other issues but more than likely a mixed result of age, and having light, light blue eyes and NEVER wearing any type of UV blocking lens or sunglasses and medications.

Allegedly she was recommended for surgery over three years ago, but she will not commit to scheduling, and complains that she cannot see certain things.  And she drives:-\

Now- this is where my angst comes in.  What is the truth?  What is exaggerated for effect or to attempt to induce guilt?  What is she not telling me?  And based on past performances and her skewed and paranoid perspective is ANY OF IT TRUE?  

In her conversations with me she recounts folks pity and alleged horror as this frail, elderly little woman perseveres over her physical issue (walking very slowly and painfully) and loneliness/abandonment to get what is essential done.

I am placed in a place of not knowing very intentionally by my hoarding mother.  Information is POWER, both withholding it and using it... as far as her perspective goes.  In the past there have been many occasions she has been less than honest with me, with the docs, with everyone.  They include:

  1. Revisionist medical history- although her mother had a radical mastectomy and breast cancer, she denies it.  She is also convinced her mother had Lupus, which most information points to that children are only slightly more prone than the general public.
  2. She claims to have had 'vascular surgery' in the late 70's.  She was allegedly hospitalized for 6 weeks or more, all to take out a rib?!?! That was causing issues that a previous surgeon missed.  She had no new incision when she returned.
  3. In 1996, 8+ years after being allegedly diagnosed with Lupus, the really nasty, often fatal in 10 years or so type (again, according to her) she told me she had 2 years to live.  As my ex-husband likes to point out, she is the healthiest and longest lived terminal case he has ever seen...
  4. Many elective surgeries that required 23 hour observations, and the hospitalization and surgery that resulted from a cat bite that almost cost her life itself, but I was not told until after the fact.  Once, when I still lived in the same state she arranged for me to pick her up by asking me to meet her at a doctor's appointment.  They did not get her ready for discharge in time so that secret was out.
  5. Any surgery or treatment she has then turns out to be botched... her thyroid surgery is an example.  The doctor she uses has a great reputation and many of my friends who are still in that area use him.  She burnt that bridge by verbally attacking him, claims he 'nicked the nerve' and now she cannot swallow or eat, and that her voice is changed forever.  Her voice only changes when she is complaining about this.
  6. She also affects a hoarse voice when she talks about she is coughing/sick/whatever.  The next topic it resumes as normal.
So what is real, what is gaslighting to attempt to inflict guilt, and what is just more narcissism and hoarder BS?  

...Oh... Sorry.   The last two options, at least with my mother, are the same thing.  

Monday, April 8, 2013

And the oral manifestation of madness continues...

Sharing some more gems uttered by my hoarding mother...

"This is just CRAZY!  I mean it it is so creepy!  I just spoke to 'Beulah' and it is so WEIRD."

<Dead silence from me.  Wait for it... Wait for it...>

"You know her husband died last year..."

Yeah.  I remember.

"...[recounts the whole terrible event complete with pulling the plug on him due to brain death] and he died on April 16th!  Isn't that WEIRD?"

I am not seeing what is so strange about that.

"OH COME ON!  Beulah and I are close to the same age, and [blah, blah, blah] and your father died on April 10th, and 'Spanky' died on the 16th.  Isn't that such a COINCIDENCE?"

Not really.

"Well.  You tell me how it is NOT!"

Well, other than they both died in a hospital when life support was withdrawn, there is absolutely no similarity in the precipitating cause of death.  Dad died 24 years ago, 23 years prior to this guy.  They just both happened to die in April, and not even on the same day.  I am simply not seeing the connection.

Out of the blue, with no intro or context...

"Do you know anyone that wears these?"

Wears what?  

"You know."

Um- NO I do not.

"These rubber pants.  Will Medicare pay for them?  I heard that Medicaid will!  They are expensive!  [Yadda, yadda, yadda]".

What do you mean by 'rubber pants'?  Are you talking about the plastic covers you can buy for adult diapers?  Are you talking about the adult diapers themselves?

Indignantly... "I do NOT wear diapers! I..."

Do you wear Depends?


Do you wear any type of cover on them? 


Then you wear adult diapers or continence pants.

"... What I wear looks like underpants and they have some sort of covering and about where the hairline is the..."

[Gagging] Okay.  Spare me the obtuse yet graphic description.  They are Depends, and they are NOT 'rubber pants'.  

"Do they still make... [insert endless questions about baby diapers of various sorts, and keep in mind she has not experienced diapers since I was toilet trained approximately 43 years ago...]"
Her newer obsession to fixate on is how she 'sees nobody' on the street.  She does not do it on nice days, but regardless of weather.  She goes on and on how she 'does not see a sign of life anywhere' and how WEIRD it all is.  

Her other neighbor related obsessions are:

  • Sniffing that she does not know anyone's name
  • Conversely complaining that if someone does go past and wave that she 'does not know what brought all of that on'
  • Speculating on folks incomes, spending habits, etc.
  • Insisting that she is just sure that several of the neighbors are running 'rooming houses' because the number of cars that are there, etc.
  • Neighbors' pets and their incompetent pet parenting of them
  • Who has water in their basement
  • Anything to do with hated neighbor in the turn
Yet she insists that she does not look outside often
More verbal quirks...
  • She does not look... she 'glances'
  • Folks do not say... they 'make the comment' or 'make the remark'
  • Children and pets are not gendered... they are 'it'
  • A perpetrator does not molest a child ... he or she 'messes with it'.
  • Two folks that are in a domestic violence/battering event are described as 'fussing and fighting'
  • Despite my continued objection and explanation of how offensive this is is, she continues to refer to people that she sees as below her in morality, station, etc. as 'that tribe'.
  • She continues to ask ethnocentric questions and refuses to use the word/concept 'ethnicity'.
  • She will clang.  See Wikipedia's definition of Clanging
Ongoing technology quirks
  • If there is even a remote chance of a thunderstorm, she unplugs everything, including her microwave and TV. She will also turn the HVAC and roof fan off.
  • If she leaves in warm weather, she turns off the AC just in case an unforecasted storm blows into the area.
  • She has yet to be able to use the settings on her TV or Cable Box in a meaningful way, and calls the Cable Company 2-3 times a month.
  • She purchased a laptop from my previous employer in February of 2006.  She made a royal PIA of herself demanding it be shipped immediately.  To this day, it sits in its box, in the hoard.  She intermittently will subscribe to some sort of Internet service, then cancels because someone will not help her/answer her questions/pick a reason.
  • She refers to anything online as 'THE INTERNET'
  • She refuses to allow anyone to set up electronic transfer and if they do that instead of process her check... all hell breaks loose... SMH
  • She refuses to use an ATM because they are 'dangerous and risky'
  • She will not learn to use her cell phone to set up her phone book or to use her camera...
  • She throws a fit once a week because she cannot find disposable cameras to purchase, and experiences 'sticker shock' on getting film developed
  • She asks the same questions over and over regarding digital photography...
Which brings us to...  questions asked each week regarding digital photography!
  1. Is there a charge for taking pictures?
  2. You mean they stay on the phone?
  3. How does one of those little cards work?  How big is it?
  4. I can print pictures?  So if I want more than one copy... I just take multiples of the same picture?
You get the idea.  Have a great evening.

Sunday, April 7, 2013

Another enthralling episode of ... From the mouth of a hoarder...

Welcome to this episode of 'From the mouth of a hoarder'.  Or better known as 'how to make Lisabeth's head explode'.

These are recent gems-
"...[Long drawn out monologue full of elitism and subtle racism]... so why does someone of that ...uh...denomination... "

Wait... WHAT?  Do you mean ethnicity?  

"Yeah- whatever... Nationality, denomination, persuasion..."

Um- words have meanings, and those words have very distinct, different, and potentially invalidating or offensive meaning when used indiscriminately like this.
I mentioned a picture fell off the wall in passing...

"That is SO WEIRD!  [Monologue of an ugly-ass 45 year old picture clock that fell off of the wall when she replaced the battery, and continued discussion of even more hideous oil painting that used to hang over the back of the couch falling several years ago... fast forward to monologue of a picture falling at a neighbor's house 10 years ago when they were on the phone... continues to discussion that reinforces her ability to jump to inappropriate conclusions based on circumstantial and largely unrelated situations.]  Well, I certainly hope THAT is not going to start again!"

'I hope [what]' is not going to start happening again?

"Things falling off the walls!"

Seriously?  <SMH>
Protracted discussion of her 'thinking' about people, things, etc. and her conviction that she is psychic.  Then she will melodramatically scream, "I HATE WHEN THIS STUFF HAPPENS!  WHY does this STUFF happen to ME?  I do NOT WANT this to happen!"

Because babies are born naked?

"You are a smart ass like your father."
My father passed away 24 years ago this month.  She has been fixated on 24 years and how young she was to lose him.  She was 53 or 54, which is young to lose your husband.  

"[Morosely] Do you know what today is?"
"It is the day that your father [adds some horrific event in the progression to his untimely death]."

"I think you need therapy!  You have never dealt with the death of your father!"

(My response, which may seem heartless, is after 10 years of being empathetic, offering grief resources, and otherwise ignoring that she chose to:

  • Be out of the room when he died
  • Tell me as I held his hand as his body started to cool that I killed him
  • Make my life hell at the funeral, locking me out of the limo, screaming at me to get away from her when they closed the casket, and telling everyone I was using drugs (I was not, and was a good student in college) and incited several folks to give me a tongue lashing at the funeral and at the viewing
  • Screw me over on my trust fund that dad was executor on and she was able to grab, although it was supposed to not fall into her hands
  • Sold a classic car that he and I worked on together that was to be mine
  • Sold anything of mine that was of any value from the previous trust estate, when she lets go of NOTHING else... the person that had left things in trust had passed just a few months earlier
  • To this day she has not closed out/finalized his estate
I simply cannot listen to her narcissistic, revisionist history.)

Phrases that make me want to run screaming:

  • "Do you use/do/{insert verb here}?"  No.  "Well I always..." <Groan>
  • "How do you {insert inappropriate personal hygiene, elimination, or other vile act}..."  I am not having this conversation.  "Well, I [continues inappropriate topic in detail that could make a biological hazmat team puke]..."
  • "The WEIRDEST/CRAZIEST/MOST SCARY [pick one] happened today!"
  • "You will never guess what happened/I saw..."  <Crickets chirping>  "... [Continues on] Well, I ..."
  • "I need to ask you a question, and I need an answer!  Why would [insert inappropriate question of body process, disease process, elimination issue, etc.] ..."  Ask your doctor.  (That always results in excuses and sputtering.)
  • "How much do you think that type of job pays?"
  • "How much do you think that costs?"
  • "Do you regret not..."
  • "Just like in the big city!"  This is stated after she complains of a wreck on the country road near her house or drug activity in a nearby larger town.  And by larger we are talking 30K folks in the town and surrounding area.
  • "Well.  I wonder what SHE wants...." (This is after a Wonderful Stranger has lost their WS place on a pedestal.)
  • "Well.  Maybe I am weird but I ALWAYS ...."
Other oddities continue- like her fixation on Jessica Lynch, her obsession on her injuries, how 'pretty' she is, etc.  She also was elevating the young reality show star of MTV's Buckwild that died with 2 others due to carbon monoxide poisoning to hero status.  She also has asked 3,967 questions [a slight over-exaggeration] about CO death and with a morbid interest.  She also exclaimed, "None of that show is true, he is not like that!  It is all made up!  They said that at the doctor's office!"  Um- yeah... no reality show is truly reality...

There have been many, many others in the past couple of weeks, but honestly they are all blending together into one big ball of unpleasantness.  She is getting worse.  Much worse.

Yesterday as we were ending the call she was obsessing on something and was chiding me on 'taking unnecessary chances' on something that is rewarding, and yes, everything has risk.  When I informed her that I would rather try, and fail miserably, than stay in the 'safe zone'... from my perspective at the end of my life I will most likely regret what I did not try, rather than what I did try and ended badly.  To me, a life lived in the shadow of not trying anything because of the possibility of failure is, in my opinion, a life wasted.  She did not like that conversation.  Too close to home maybe?  

I am rethinking the 5 times a week contact effort.  I do this as she has NO ONE.  But- that is through her choices.  Maybe it is time to whittle this down to 2 times a week.  

Saturday, April 6, 2013

You know you were waiting for it... the unidentified 'poo' object update...

You.  Cannot.  Make. This. Stuff. Up.

A while ago, March 12 of 2013 actually, I shared about my hoarding mother's discovery of a turd in her hoarded home.  If you have not had the... pleasure... you can read it for yourself. 

Click here to read the blog about the discovery of the 'poo' object

Although I had NOT forgotten about our conversation nearly a month ago, I had not mentioned it, asked her about it, etc.  That is my new strategy for my sanity.  Not participating in the crazy.

So- because I am so obviously a masochist, I called her on my way home to check in.  

"I just got back!  [Rambling litany of complaints that launched with 'I am so mad I could KILL!'... her normal precursor.  One would think she ran the Boston Marathon, but it was in actuality about 3 errands/stops... one that includes the library.]  And something really WEIRD happened."

<Crickets chirping>

"Today I just had the word 'snake' come into my mind... it was weird!  So when I went to the library I asked the 'girl' behind the counter [You mean the librarian?  OY!] if she would 'do something disgusting' for me..."

<Inwardly I cringe and add the one-woman-operator of the local library to my 'needs flowers for dealing with her list'.>

"And she said that it depended on what it was!  She acted so weird!  I liked [the previous librarian who was the only employee until her retirement in 2010] so much better, but anyway, I asked her to help me figure out what snake poop looks like [and she begins to ask me if I essentially knew you could look such things up on THE INTERNET and proceeds on with no response forthcoming from me]."

At this point, I simply pull my car over to the side of the road to listen to this.  I know it is going to be off the charts batshit crazy.  If this were an earthquake, it would be a magnitude of approximately 7.5...

For purposes of brevity... I will offer a synopsis of the 'gems' of this conversation... they are:

  • Her lengthy and odd descriptions of the poo/discussion of the poo... using words like 'half a prune, consistency...
  • Her discussion with the librarian of the birdseed in the poo, and the librarian's advising her that the snake could have eaten a bird or a small rodent that would result in that...
  • Her conclusion based on that Google search and resultant discussion that "the [hated] a$$hole [neighbor] in the turn" is responsible... "You KNOW that, THAT SNAKE, did not get into my house naturally.  
  • In response to my question of, "How so?" She went off on a rant about she could tell that her door had been opened with a credit card and he would not have to open the door very far... her conclusions also included that the snake could not have gotten under the [large] gap under her kitchen door and so it went downstairs.  
  • She mistakes me for a herpetologist and asks me how long snakes can live without food.  I advised her that it is most likely the snake is there because there is a food supply, and remind her of the mouse fiasco a few years ago.
  • This causes utter indignation- and she haughtily informs me that there is not even a single bug in her house...
  • She was ranting about the [hated neighbor] should go 'visit his mother'.  His mother died of lung cancer several years ago.  She then started her violent ideation which I advised her that she needed to change the subject immediately or our call was over.
  • She acidly asked how the snake got in organically then asked about the dryer vent, which has no screen or anything in it now because she has used it to hide things on occasion [don't ask].  Where it is it is approximately 5 inches off the ground, and there is a whole 'hoardy' mess of a box for the feral cats to eat out of directly in front of it, and the cat feeding is drawing all kinds of vermin into the yard.  She then had a freak out that he put the snake down the dryer vent  and he could do something else!  Horrors!  And more comments about how she needed the 'Equalizer' [a horribly schmaltzy 80's US filmed vigilante show that she LOVED]
  • She talked about how she would 'be careful' now before she reaches into anything downstairs...

You can imagine how it went from there.  I pulled back onto the road, informed her I had to go, and ended the call.

She continues to deteriorate.  And there is nothing that I can do.  She will not seek help.  She will not accept help.  And she is not to the level that an intervention can occur without her consent.  

I seldom feel this impotent, this helpless... and this hopeless.  No one wins, and I guarantee this is not going to end well.  For me or for her.  

I know from my work that you can not help someone that does not want it.  You cannot want something more than the person wants it for themselves... And the scariest part?  I am just NUMB.  

I am simply husked out. 

Dear Abby needs educated on hoarding ....


Here is an opportunity to provide 'Dear Abby' with updated information on hoarding, the DSM 5, and the impact on children.  

Who will join me?

Pondering a meme

Is this especially the case of those in hoarded homes?

-Hoarding... It is not about the stuff... That is merely a symptom of a life threatening mental illness.

Appropriate meme

Resonated with me...

-Hoarding... It is not about the stuff... That is merely a symptom of a life threatening mental illness.