Sunday, January 17, 2016

And there is not a break for the wicked, it seems...

Wow.  That is all I can say at this point.


I just hung up from my hoarding mother's equally narcissistic and mentally ill sister, from whom she is totally estranged.  She also is on the hoarding scale, and has much of the same trauma history as my mother, and much of the same co occurring disorders as my mother, mental health and other.  My hoarding aunt had a psychotic break in the later sixties and was hospitalized in a psychiatric hospital for a while.

If you are a regular reader, you might remember some drama between her and my narcisster (my lovely play on words for my half narcissistic sister) in May (about the time of my birthday) where the events culminated in my aunt calling the police for domestic violence on my sister, and ending up in the psychiatric ward of the local hospital.

At Christmas I got a lovely holiday card filled with a crazy rant about my half sister.  I have not initiated contact, and even downloaded the 'silent' ringtone for my smartphone so it does not ring when she calls.

Well, tonight she called.  I was eating a quick dinner prior to a Skype meeting, so I did not answer.  After the meeting, I listened to the message, and realized if I did not call her, she would continue to call, and this was going to be a doozy...

So I girded my loins.  And I called her.  And I said little else other than 'hello' and 'well, I have to go'.

I will spare you the exact quotes, but the high points (low points?) of her communique were:

  1. She is hearing faint music at night, near her refrigerator, in her heating ducts, and sometimes outside near the heating air return.
  2. She blames my narcissister.  
  3. She is convinced she has put something in her house.
  4. She is convinced it is a tape player, but one of those newfangled ones that is smaller than a fingernail.
  5. She has had an HVAC repair person in to check, but in her opinion he did not believe her, and was too young to do such a job.
  6. She also has people stopping in the street to stare into her house at night.
  7. She has people running between her house and the house next door and scratching her new windows, slapping the siding, and all kinds of drama.
  8. She has gone to Best Buy, and to other electronic purveyors to find out what this is.
  9. She has decided it works remotely like a drone, and she knows drones can only operate from 500 yards.
  10. She says her psychiatrist is who told her something was planted in the house by my narcissister.
  11. She also said the psychiatrist told her that it is possible I escaped the mental health issues my mother and sister have, however most of those show up by 52 or so... [Um really?  Most mental illness shows much earlier... dementia is another story...]
She also told paranoid stories and chattered on for almost 2 hours  I am done.  I have done my time.  No more of this.  

She made sure to slip in her birthday (which I did not acknowledge) and also discussed how she was strapped for money (not touching that one either).  

It would all be funny if it were not so flipping sad.  My hoarding mother hears music when she goes off her psychotropic meds.  She hears orchestra music, and my aunt hears a variety of fundamental church hymn type of music.  They both also hear and feel a 'motor' running.

Hoarding... no one wins.  No one.

Here is another older woman who sits alone due to the choices she has made... estranged from most everyone.

Have a good week everyone.  Thank you for reading.


  1. My hoarding sister, before she died of breast cancer that had metasticized to her brain, would call me regularly to help her finf the remote control to her tv. Since I lived about a mile away, I usually came to her aid. She would tell me how lonely and scared she was, then beg me to stay overnight, which I would, despite having to sack out on a short loveseat amidst the hoard. Later, I would learn she accused me of coming to her house when she wasn't home to clean her house snd steal her drugs. Now, I had participated i. cleaning her house, but she gave her consent to that, after which she filled her house up with junk again. Her children later told me of the drugs accusation, and they believed her. It's almost funny, because if I had wanted her drugs, she'd have given them to me if only I had asked. She always was asking me if I wanted them, to which i responded, "No," every single time.These people are dangerous.

  2. Thank you VaVaVoom. I am sorry you experienced that, and your post really made me think about the fact that I need to continue to 'safety plan' not only physically but emotionally and socially with the folks in my family.

    Thank you for reading.