So when in the home state... I visited my hoarding mother...

Sorry for the radio silence for the past couple of weeks.  Mostly it has been the same old, same old for me... all grants are due at my agency, and the past several weeks have been 75-85+ work weeks.

So- the one week that I could potentially 'rest'? I decided to reverse my decision to NOT attend the professional conference in my home state as I had not cancelled yet... and went.  It is a 7 hour drive roughly, and I needed continuing education hours to renew my professional license that expires at the end of this calendar year.  

I did not let my mother know until I was in my hotel suite, feet up on the ottoman and working on things via my VPN client.  I made plans to meet her in a town halfway from the town I was in, and where she lives.  It is a really rural, small place about 30 miles from both of us.  

I met her at the designated location, and we went on to the restaurant.  After that, we went to a super Walmart and she shopped, and I was on my way back to my hotel less than 3 hours later.  

She was on relatively good behavior.  Relatively.  She was shocked when she saw me, as I am now 102 pounds lighter than I was, and this has been a three year journey of watching calories, adopting a mainly pescatorian eating strategy, and eating mainly fruit, veggies, and organics at that.  She made it quite clear that she thinks I am:

1. Going to die like my dad did of heart disease because I am losing too fast!  Um... over 3 years? and the last 40 lbs has been since October?  I am not Karen Carpenter, and my BMI is 24.  No danger there.
2. Look bad.  I did grab a pair of Levi's since I my jeans are too large even with a belt.  I found an Missy size 8 (US sizes) and could have worn a size 6 if they had them.  That is the smallest I have been since I was 23 or 24, but I was much thinner in high school and college.  And at 5' 4 1/2'' I am not a big woman.

Being in Appalachia is always interesting.  The folks are resilient, giving and open people.  And they will stare if you do not fit in.  And I do not.  And I am okay with it.  Mom, however, was making a big deal out of it.  And apparently it was my fault.  I was wearing a cute little swing (yet modest!) dress with an empire waist (black) and a hot pink shrug that matched my hot pink patent leather stilettos/pumps.  

In Walmart a gentleman with his family complemented me on my dress, etc.  Mom kept asking questions in a loud tone of voice... "What did he say?  Why did he say that?  What did you say?  Well, you are attractive and a clothes horse... it would not hurt you to be nicer to men... maybe you would have a boyfriend..."  I wanted to puke, and die.  

She would occasionally, and in a way that was apropos to nothing in our conversation, start talking about the hated neighbor in the turn, and she "knows he has been in the house!  The skunk sh*t is proof!  ..."  I did not react, ask questions, redirect, or say anything.  I simply just acted like she had not said anything.  Wonder if she has decided the 'snake poop' she found in the basement is now 'skunk poop'.  She also asked if 'court stuff' could be found on the INTERNET.  She started going on to this neighbor's arrests for DUI, driving on a suspended, etc. and that if she knew he was still under court supervision/revocation of license she would 'make a little call' if she sees his truck leave.  I advised her to mind her own business.  Like THAT is going to happen.

I also lost my mind apparently, and rode in her car from the restaurant to the retail store.  And immediately my eyes felt sticky, and I felt the need to clear my throat.  Over the next two days I felt really tired, and wondered if I was coming down with something.  The answer to that is yes... and on Saturday I woke up with a sore throat, gummy eyes, and congestion.  And it has gotten worse to the point that I sat my birthday out rather than engaging in fun with friends.  It is okay, I did have lunch with my best friend, and spent the rest of the day with my two favorite 'people' in the world, my cats, and I do not require hoopla and party hats... but being sick on your birthday sucks.  And I am getting worse.  I have to work tomorrow, but we will see how this plays out.

I first thought that since tree pollen was at the absolute highest the past few days, that maybe I was having a reaction to the culmination of the 'tree orgy'. Now as this continues to play out, and reflecting back to my extreme physical reactions just being in her house for less than 10 minutes... (I ended up with a largely asymptomatic sinus infection that went systemic... resulting in my bout with endocarditis).  I think it is a reaction to her, and that car.  The car smelled slightly of the hoard, and was dusty/grimy inside.  

What the hell is in the car?  Or on her?  Maybe her NOT being in my car was a good thing.  This takes things to another level.  

Knowing I was going to see her stressed me out.  I had very little to say to my friends, and based on the extreme negativity of her monologues in general, and especially towards me, I was prepping myself to pull the plug on the meeting, and perhaps our contact ... period.  I was struggling with my typical coping mechanism, just shutting down, numbing out, compartmentalizing and disassociating a bit.  But not to the level of Sybil.

I am no longer willing to play nicey-nice with folks who I have shared the secret.  And one of my former co-workers kept harping on ... "well it will be nice to see your mom won't it?  Bet you are glad to see her since it has been so long!  Bet you want to visit more often!"  When I quietly but firmly stated that I was not looking forward to it and was prepared to bail to preserve my well being... The response of my friend was "You don't mean that!  That is your mother!  It does not matter what she does, you only have one mother..."

And so it goes.  I will not give this secret and dysfunction any more free rent.  I do not want to be identified by my mothers psychopathology, and I have no desire for this to 'walk in the room before I do'.  But, I will not perpetuate the ignorance that many have that results in placing accountability on the COH rather than where it belongs... on the hoarder.

Sometimes families are broken or in some level of estrangement for a valid reason.  If she were an alcoholic who engaged in the behavior she has, I sincerely doubt folks would be advising to 'just deal, it is the only mother you have' type of crap.  So much education is to be done, but I struggle with wanting to be an agent for change and to push for understanding, treatment, and resources for hoarders and their families (victims)... but I also do not want to be the ACOH poster child.  So much ambivalence.  

It was good to see her, just as a reality check- I had not seen her since July of last year.  She is walking slowly and bent over with a cane.  I am not sure how much is a production, because she scoots along normally with a shopping cart.  She refuses a walker, and she refused a motorized cart at the store.  She showed me her 'groove' in her leg.  I cannot see anything there.  Her color was good, and she looked healthy enough.  I know looks can be deceiving...  but she does not look ill.

The kicker for me?  Now I am sick.  I will run to the doctor next week if I am not significantly better just to be looked at... I think giving myself a week more to 10 days is reasonable.  Honestly, my staff have articulated/wondered when I would get something since I have been working such killer hours, not sleeping, etc.  I was a welcome mat for a bug... but I am a bit paranoid that this feels more like an allergic reaction, and cold/flu meds are doing NOTHING for it.

Sorry for the long, tangential and whiny blog.  Back to your regularly scheduled irreverent humor next time:-).

Has the hoard progressed to the level that she is carrying who-knows-what on her person?  And what does that mean at some point in the future and the legacy of the hoard?

Hoarding... no one wins.  And the stuff?  The stuff is just a symptom of the underlying disease.