At long last- From The Mouth Of A Hoarder... (FTMOAH!)

Oh my GAWD.   You cannot make this stuff up...  Just this week on FTMOAH...
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Talking about her nasty feet and her unwillingness to allow anyone address her tallus [sic] calluses and her plantar calluses... "... and I showed the nurse what I did and she just looked at me and looked at me and said she had never seen anyone that did that [preening like she did something ground breaking] and I showed her how this fit perfectly in my shoes and I cut the padding so I could roll it up..."

What padding?  What are you talking about?

"I can buy them at Walmart for $4.  The things you stick in your underwear to catch moisture..."

Sanitary pads?  

"I guess that is what you could call them..."
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Since I am not working right now, she seems to think that I am available 24/7, and she will call from a blocked number (which I never answer) and then she will unblock and call me repeatedly until I answer, hanging up and calling immediately.  I am going to have to mute repeated calls from the same number...

WHAT!?!

"Well, you don't have to be so nice, I am not sick, but I need an answer to something..."

What is it ... (This a Sunday night BTW)

"I saw an advertisement in AARP and they have a 'Jitterbug phone'.  Didn't you say one of the folks at the office had one that they wanted to get rid of?"

The office I do not work at anymore?  The thing I mentioned in passing over 11 years ago?  That thing?

"I was just asking!..."

She is DRIVING ME NUTS.  She has to get a new phone because her flip phone that she bought 10 years ago or so is dying.  She is considering buying an iPhone.  I suspect she won't, but ye gods...
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"Let me ask you a question..."

Do I have a choice?

"[Goes on like she did not hear me....] Do you have a lot of moles on your body?"

NO.  No.  And we have talked about this 5 million times.  And I am not discussing this....

"Why are some red and some brown?"
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Hoarding, no one wins.   No one.

A few weeks in the cyclone of the tornado...

What a few weeks it has been.  

I left my job, resigned without notice a couple of weeks ago.  The hardest thing I have ever done, but it had to be done.  The past two weeks have been full of discovery.  Some pleasant, some unpleasant, and some introspection.  There has been a lot of betrayal and malice that led to my resigning, there have been subsequent betrayals, and there are the ancillary betrayals...  But there have been the unexpected support from unexpected places, and that is what I focus on, not the people who, directly or indirectly, intentionally or unintentionally, fell a bit short.  I have cut out any social media feeds that would give me information about my old organization, directly or indirectly.  I wish them the best and much success.  I have moved on.

Shortly after I quit my job, (like three days after) my dear friend ended up in CCU on life support and initially, was not expected to live, and if so, she would most likely be an amputee as her legs were not getting sufficient blood flow, despite being on an ECMO protocol.  She is getting incrementally better, but it will be a LONG recovery for her.  When I heard the news, I sobbed.  I have every day that I can, and I will continue to do so.

I got away for five days and visited a southern state, and I needed that.  I was a hot mess and still so raw, not sleeping at all - and what I did not recognize initially as anxiety reared its head.  I had a series of panic attacks riding down, and things were okay the rest of the trip, but a couple of days later it was back.  (I know realize that many were prompted by folks talking about my former job generically, as I was clear to all parties that I did not want specifics or to speculate...) I did not sleep at all Monday night, and even when I was trying to eat I had to get up and move, and was feeling extremely claustrophobic.  That is why I did not recognize the feeling as panic attacks, as I attributed no emotion to them, I did not feel a sense of impending doom, and generally I am not prone to depression or anxiety.  Tuesday was full of feeling claustrophobic and I even had to put down my soup I was eating for lunch and walk around.  I decided that this could be a possibility, and I know that it is situational, and I know that exercise is the most underutilized antidepressant and anti-anxiety remedy.  I was finishing my cool-down after a run on the treadmill at the gym, and I had the mother of all panic attacks.  I left the gym quickly and driving seemed to help.   My neighbor stopped me to tell me he was moving, and he asked if I were on vacation.  I told him I had resigned, and he talked about a similar situation he experienced 15 years ago and about the depression and anxiety he faced, and to not let it impact me like it impacted him.  I felt another wave of claustrophobia coming on, so I excused myself and I ran in my place to get my insurance card and to call my doctor.  I could not make sense of the voicemail menu, so I decided to drive across the highway to his office.  By the time I got there, I was a sobbing mess.  Luckily he had an appointment cancel, and he could see me. I was prescribed a low dose of a SSRI daily, with the intent of weaning off in a month or so, and also a med for anxiety as needed.  I have done well, and the panic attacks are not happening now.  I consider that a win, because I would not have asked for help and would have just powered through at one time.  

Financially I am okay, and I have several months before I have jump back in.  I am looking now, but I have the luxury of being selective.  

I am setting structure to my days, exercising, doing things around my place, going to visit my friend in CCU, and going to a coffee shop and working.  I have a panel presentation next month, and I remain on a couple of boards.  I do most of my job hunting from the coffee shop and most of my applying from home in the evenings.  I plan on losing the 30 lbs that working 70-80 hours helped me gain.  

My cats are thriving, and I am reconnecting with friends that I have neglected for the last 18 months or better.  Tonight a friend asked what was different about me, that I looked rested, glowing, and like I had had a face lift.  I told her I had left my job, and she was happy for me.  The consensus of group I was out with was 'GOOD'.

I am about to embark on a new chapter, and it is exciting and terrifying all at the same time.  And my hoarding mother?  She is back to her repertoire of usual subjects.  The neighbor that is harassing her.  Poop.  Moles.  General paranoias.  I have ceased to be a focus since I am not discussing the specifics of what led me to quit my job, and am not telling her a whole lot of detail about anything.

Onward and upward...

She had a glimmer...

I think 2019 is my year for saying 'enough'.  It is not even 6 weeks in and I have set some strong boundaries with a few folks that needed it, and I resigned my position today, without notice, as things had devolved until I was in most untenable situation and was being treated in an hostile, unprofessional, and abusive manner.  I am sad because I love the agency, the people we serve, and my dedicated staff, but I could not stand one more moment.  

I finally shared with my hoarding mother about Tuesday or Wednesday of this week.  She was so angry, but supportive.  I was shocked.  She offered to let me stay at her home and acknowledged it was beyond her.  (I will pass... But appreciated the thought.)  Today was the day.  She then used things as a springboard to talk about work issues from 50 years ago...

At least there was a glimmer.  I have ugly cried all day, and I need to get myself together as a friend is picking me up to go to another friend's art showing.

Have a good weekend.

It is time for... From The Mouth Of A Hoarder...

So she has been a LOT worse lately... 'She' being my hoarding mother.

She was talking about petting her one cat (that is about 9 or so) and after a painful, weird, and convoluted-verbal-vomit salad she finally came to the point to the story, one of the cat's canine teeth is broken off.  She then started railing against her estranged sister who she last had in her home summer of 2000.  That is right. Eighteen and half years ago.  She began with the accusation that her sister shut a cat that I grew up with in the door, and ranted that it probably happened at the same time and... 

I cut her off.  I am not even going into that people are not singular natured- if she decides she is done, then the person is the most horrible person ever...  Ugh.  

The cat she was accusing her sister of harming was a kitten when I was twelve.  She died at 21 years of age.  So I was 33.  I am now nearly 50.  So, 17 years ago.  And the alleged injury was discovered probably 5-7 years before that, but after her blow up with her sister she decided it was her.  I broke it down for her like that.  She de-escalated briefly, but then told me tale of the tail (see what I did there?) word for word.  

I also pointed out that her current kitty has been to the vet recently, and that would have been noticed as the gum is swollen.  

She demurred and changed the subject.  That poor cat.  I keep asking her when she is taking it to the vet.   Every time I talk to her...   Now, there is a possibility that none of this is true.  That makes it so hard.  

She is having cataract surgery at the end of the month.  Bet that will be fun for the neighbor (her new wonderful stranger and I suspect, flying monkey).  I hate to tell her, the fall from the pedestal is a hard and fast one.  With that being said, I am glad she has someone to take her.   

Hoarding, no one wins.  No one.  

Looking forward to a new year, because 2018 has been rough!

I am so ready for the opportunity of 2019.  In the last couple of weeks I lost my little aged kitty love.  The one that had been so sick, and was 17-20 years old.  She and I had 7 months together, and although I did not think it was enough, I had to make a hard decision.  I hope it was the right one.  

Of course, my hoarding mother was urging me to stop exploring options and put her down.  Then when my vet and I came to the decision, she endlessly talked about her latest cat that died, and her fears for three of her own.  

Very quickly, I had a board member at a local rescue reach out to me.  She knows that the other cat does not do well without a companion, and my baby was despondent.  She really, really, got close to this kitty. I made the decision to jump, and I adopted a 10 1/2 year old shy girl who is super-obese.  We have our work cut out for us... But we will work on this together.  All of us.  My resident cat has adapted quite well.  When the 'excitement' of that wore off for my hoarding mother... She has 'hit the gas' on manufacturing her own drama.  This includes:

• Calling on a weekend and dramatically intoning her new roof was leaking on the porch and running down a litany of petty complaints about the contractor, and she wants someone to 'make him' pay for fixing it to her satisfaction... Since I run a residential program I would have a magic wand...  I told her to call the Better Business Bureau or take him to small claims court if she could not find it to allow him to correct the issue, which I recommend.  She did not like THAT.
• Stating the next door neighbor is in 'cahoots' with the hated neighbor that moved away, accusing him of the same types of nonsensical acts of theft or vandalism that she accused the 'neighbor in the turn' of.
• Complaining that she expects to be arrested any day due to the interaction she had with the sheriff when she made her last complaint.
• Hyping high drama with her last bone scan results, and then refusing any treatment.  It is not if, it is when, a bone breaks.
• Also hyping to the highest level of bathos that she has a mitral valve prolapse.  She was angry and walked out of her cardiology referral due to the doctor stating it was not an issue, discussing that it was common in her age bracket, not allowing her to perform her 'dog and pony' show.
• She had a neighbor take her to a nearby (larger town) for a consult for cataract surgery.  She was shocked that she had been in there in 2009, and that her cataract had gotten worse in the last 9 years.

I could go into more, but you get the idea.  My mother's neighbor is correct, she wants something to be seriously wrong/critical in nature.  I have remained very low contact, and I get off the phone when she starts her 'scripts' or rumination, ruination, and petty grievances.  

Hoarding.  No one wins.  Happy 2019!

It is past due! From the Mouth of a Hoarder...

I have to laugh or I would scream...  FMTOAH time!  I have called my hoarding mother twice since last week.  Oy, why do I do this to myself?  Anyway... Here it goes!
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HM:  So, what has your experience been with ground turkey?  I saw a recipe on 'Cooking Light' and [nattering insufferably about how skeptical she is to whether that will be 'right' despite the fact she cannot cook due to her microwave and oven being out of order and her range top hoarded solid...]
Me:  :::Stunned silence:::
HM:  Well?
Me:  Um... You do remember that I have a Type I allergy to turkey and capon, right?  
HM:  What does that mean?  <Harrumphing>
Me:  That I have to have an double epi pen because I go into an anaphylactic reaction...
HM:  I don't remember THAT.

Now, I have had issues as a child with severe facial swelling, and it was around holiday time but no one toppled to the connection (or no one cared enough to try).  One of my few last visits to her house (1997 or so) she fed me turkey loaf... Cooked lovingly in the microwave.  I had a severe reaction with my face, lips and throat swelling. I looked like Quasimodo, and I nearly died.  I had continued exposure, and it only got worse.  SHE WITNESSED THE START OF IT.  Now I know that the weird, 'sudden' allergies are part of my overall condition (actually a co-morbidity) caused by Mast Cell Activation.  This has been a 'thing' for over 20 years of my life.

HM:  So you don't know whether ground turkey is good in that or not?
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HM:  I keep meaning to ask... You have several degrees, right?
Me:  What?
HM:  You have multiple degrees on something right?  You finished school for something or something?
Me:  Yes, you were at my graduation for my undergrad.  [I tell her my degrees, and licensure].
HM:  Someone asked me, and I could not remember...  
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Yeah.  I am not important in her life, but I knew that already.  Thank goodness for friends who are family and my furry family.

Thank you for reading!!!

A snow day in the northeast!

I am at home, working from home.  My little feline loves are quite happy!  My newest kitty (the one that is 17-20 years old) has had a health crisis, and unfortunately, one that may result in kidney failure.  I am doing everything humanly possible, and she is improving.  We take it one day at a time.  That is all we can do.

So... My hoarding mother.  She cannot get out of her own way to save her life.  Not much changes, and I fear the house conditions continue to deteriorate.  She did get the roof replaced this month, only 3-4 YEARS after the hail damage.  She- in discussing other things- has disclosed that:

1. Her dishwasher no longer works.
2. Her microwave no longer works, and she has a new one that 'she cannot get out of the box or lift onto the counter' so she cannot use it.
3. Her washing machine no longer works.  And she is not always continent and has C-Diff.
4. Her A/C does not work.
5. Her refrigerator is on its last legs.
6. Her oven no longer works.
7. Her hot water tank will not kick off 'vacation mode'.  

I am sure there are other things, but when I last saw her house in 2010 (and I had not been in the house since 2000 the time before) it was firmly a Level 5 hoard, and a Level 9 on the Clutter Image Rating.  It has not gotten any better.  For folks that hoard, it seldom does.  Especially when other mental health issues, like Narcissistic Personality Disorder, are present.  Her cruelty and pettiness are absolutely breaktaking.  Her lack of boundaries knows no limits.  I continue low, low contact.  I plan on not ever setting foot in that house again, and I will never see her in person again.  That is what I have to do to keep me healthy.

She is aware that I am going through the diagnostic process of something.  I will not tell her what, because she has often stated directly "I want to know what is wrong with you because I am sure it is wrong with me, too."  No, it isn't.  I am finalizing a process that has been years in undertaking, and I just now need to figure out genetic markers and co-morbidities, but basically, I have a genetic connective tissue condition that is degenerative.  I will most likely end up disabled, and organ failure and other charming things will be a challenge.  I am lucky that my progression has been slow, most folks are disabled in their 20's or 30's, and I am 49.  I still run, but I struggle to do so.  My sub 10 minute miles are now sub 15.  I have gained some weight, and my fine motor skills are noticeably impacted.  I am losing the ability to write legibly in longhand, even to sign my name. I had something happen, and long story short I was asked to not get a hotel room at a conference and drive it every day, about an hour each way.  The first day was a 12 hour day, and I nearly wrecked several times going home because I was so exhausted that I was having trouble keeping my car in lane that was a long term construction project.  I was in a single lane surrounded by Jersey barriers.  Do to some unfortunate disclosures by folks that should have known better, it became 'a thing' the next day when I delayed my arrival a bit because I needed to rest, and I was unable to attend the third day.  I was not ready to disclose, and I had that choice removed.

Now, I have had times where I have been really, really impacted, but I have always rebounded.  I hope, hope, HOPE I can do it again.  But I fear that I have fallen so fast and hard, I am unlikely to rebound to the level I had.  This my be my new normal, I fear.  And the pain has gotten worse.  But, I take no prisoners, and make no concessions.   I will NOT let this thing define me.  Where this relates to my hoarding mother is although I do not tell her much, some of it seeps out.  Most mothers know if something is not right.  She is oblivious, and if she did know, she would make it all about her in some way.  No thank you.

I have been working 70-80 hour weeks.  No exaggeration.  She is aware that my organization is struggling to recover.  She does not ask about anything or offer empathy.  She is aware that I will, most likely, be saying goodbye to another furbaby.  She does not ask anything helpful or offer encouragement.  And I do not expect it from her.  I am struggling to wrap my mind around the (potential) enormity of my diagnosis.  This may change to trajectory of my career, and of my life.  I had a gentleman express interest in me, and ask me out.  I have not responded, but I don't think so.  Between work, health, and cats... I do not have much bandwidth.  I know I have dropped from most of my friend's sights, as I do when I am dealing with something, but I just do not have much to offer right now.  I will bounce back, but I know the self isolation is not good for me, but I am in harness, at least for a while, with a grinding work schedule.  I did not make plans to visit friends due to work and my sick cat, but a friend surprised me and is coming to visit.  We will have a lovely Friendsgiving holiday, and another dear friend made plans to share the day as well, so it will be the three of us.  

That sounds perfect...

I will be okay.  No matter what happens with health or any other challenge, I will land on my feet.  But sometimes, that is an isolating and exhausting 'superpower'.

Hoarding... No one wins.  No one.

Thanks for reading.