'Dead' 'Things'

I found a very 'dead' loaf in a plastic bag yesterday. I think it was maybe a month or six weeks old, it was awful. It was sat on top of a bag of 'clean' washing, in my kitchen. I had a really lucky escape, because the wrapping had stopped it from corrupting the washing - which miraculously isn't even smelly from the 'adventure' it had there.

Of course my washing shouldn't have been in the kitchen. Nor should it still have been in the washing bag, but rather in my linen cupboard. And the loaf got lost because my kitchen is the worst spot in the house, as my 'before' photos will show when I manage to get them posted.

The washing is in my entrance hall now, on its way to the cupboard. The loaf made it into the dustbin, without even dribbling its guts onto my carpet, which again was a miracle.

I have the remains of last weeks loaf still sat on my kitchen table pile...

Small steps, often.

Fighting The Urge to Acquire 'Things'

It's really hard not to add to the clutter. I've so many habits that I never realised were adding 'stuff' into my home.

Yesterday I bought some vitamins, and the shopkeeper gave me two free magazines and a half dozen leaflets along with my purchases. I didn't ask for them and I don't need them, but in the past I would have kept them, or at least taken some clippings from the magazines to keep. Why ? That voice that says 'that might become useful'. Partly yesterday's temptation was aspirational - 'someday' I might be able to afford hypnosis or one of the other expensive therapies advertised in those extraneous leaflets. But I'm a bright woman, and if I get to 'someday' I can look up a therapist on the Internet, or just go back to the shop and ask there, I don't need those leaflets. Not easy changing my thinking, though.

Earlier this week I was even tempted to skip dive. I saw that a neighbour had thrown out some of the same fancy bricks that compose part of my garden wall. For a serious moment I actually thought 'Oh look, that would come in handy if something happens to my wall...' I was actually fractions away from grabbing this huge brick and lugging it home with me ! And where exactly was I planning to keep it ? Jeez !

'Stuff' without a 'home' is a challenge. I have a lot of crap that fits that category. Fear of losing things is an issue too. Ironic, since because of the squalor I spend hours sometimes looking for things and getting more and more stressed when I can't find what I'm looking for. Or I abandon the project. That is talked about at Squalor Survivors.

One thing I can't get past right now is that I feel I have to have my bag of medications sat in the middle of my lounge floor, in the one 'clear' square metre of my carpet, where I can see it all the time. Otherwise I forget to take what I need. I've talked to the doctor about it a number of times, and we've tried various strategies to help me remember my meds, but this is the first time I've actually had any real success with taking my medicines consistently, so for now that bag is staying where it is. My hope, though, is that I will clear a surface in my lounge and be able to house the bag there; it will have to stay in plain view, but might find somewhere where it 'should' be.

I guess it's going to be about re-programming myself. A big part of that is being self-aware and watching for the sorts of thoughts and feelings that lead to acquisition and squalor creation.

Getting Cross

Okay, I'm going to have a rant now.

I've been browsing for info about Hoarding and related topics, and I am beginning to get angry about how many people just want to sell me their book or sign me up for their 12 step programme (for a fee).

I don't want to read a book. I already have too many f*cking books !

And I don't need God to fix me ! I don't need to confess my sins before I can get help, I'm not messy because I'm guilty of something !

I don't actually want to 'be helped', because I know this is going to have to come from inside me, or I will just let 'the help' clean me up and then start the behaviour all over again. Don't you dare try disenfranchising me by making me your project !

I'm actually messy because I have some issues as a result of past experiences. I may actually have an illness. Learning that has meant a lot to me. I thought before that I was just lazy and dirty and pitiful and sh*t at being the person other people felt I should be. Help me heal and deal with my issues, by all means, but don't you dare compound my problems by making me out to be helpless or by ripping me off !

Secrecy, Shame and Safety

I have put a link in to Firehouse Forum today, to a thread about 'Collyers Mansion' conditions and the danger our squalor can put other people into. Thanks to Children of Hoarders for leading me there.

I include this one because I have experienced the need for emergency services to enter my home, along with the shame of it. I've also had more than one surveyor complain in writing in their report on my home that they couldn't conduct a full survey because of "the quantities of belongings" in the house. That really upset me at the time, and I still think about it.

Some of the fire fighters' comments are uncomfortable reading and may be upsetting if you hope for people to understand OC Hoarding, but I ask you not to go off on one at them. These people are there for our protection and give vital aid, even if the idea that they may also choose to 'blow the whistle' on us and expose our miserable states of being is disturbing to you, as it is to me.

What we promise ourselves and what we really do

It's only small stuff, but more surfaces are appearing now. Tougher surfaces now, though. I found it hard to do the top of my chest of drawers in the bedroom. I got 'old', and instead of straight away relocating misplaced things I have left them piled for later removal. Let's be honest here, when you are a squalorist 'later' never comes, especially when it relates to 'piles'. I need to eliminate this bad old habit.

I bought 'stuff' this morning, too :-( I picked up books in a '3 for £1' deal. Admittedly two of the books I will read fervently, since they are by a favourite author, but the third came along for the ride. I should bin it now, I guess.

On the 'up' side, though, I did half my linen cupboard yesterday. Throwing cloth away is a hard thing for me, especially retro stuff. The hardest thing to lose was a little handkerchief with some particular form of embroidery on it. I didn't know where it had come from, though, so really I had no reason to be sentimental with it, it was too small to bother trying to sell, so in the end it got into the bin, but it was difficult.


Update...

I've managed to bin that third book. Those of you who know me will understand just how hard that was. At first I wanted to allow myself to cut out and keep some of the illustrations, but with the proviso that unless they made their way into a scrap book this week they'd have to go. Of course this then wouldn't help me get rid of my scrap book collection, though... So it's gone, the whole thing, even if I did console myself with the idea that the images could probably be found on the Internet should I ever really need them...

first surface

I've got my first clean surface ! It was the shelf above my sink in the bathroom. Everything on it went into the bin bag, and now I can see myself in the mirror above the shelf too ! It feels so good seeing that shelf.

The next day I cleaned off the top of the toilet lid thingy and also the top of my bathroom cabinet. I read somewhere at Squalor Survivors not to deal with cupboards and things first off, but the visible surfaces, so that's what I'm doing. I did clear out the bathroom cabinet, though, so that the stuff I feel I really do need in the bathroom can go into there, and thus my first cleared space can remain pristine, as an encourager.

Over the weekend I stopped. It began to feel too big again, so today I am going to go and seek further inspiration by reading other people's pages again. I think my next target may be the shelf on my stairwell. It largely is stuff being whee it shouldn't be, or being stuff I don't need or have duplicates of. It makes me sad to think how much money I've wasted because I simply couldn't find things and re-bought. A loy of what I re-bought has since aged to the point of uselessness. For example, I had a bottle of 'Jif' - as opposed to 'Cif' - they renamed that brand years ago ! I felt a bit anxious throwing so many chemical things into my bin together, but they've empited the dustbin now and nothing went boom. My bathroom isn't as clean as I'd like yet, but it is cleared, at least. I couldn't face the cleaning, the chemicals are horrid and my bathroom isn't very well ventilated.

Thinking about clearing a new surface, I am feeling anxious. It's far more difficult than I think anyone who hasn't experienced this situation could imagine.

Prelude

Welcome to Dirty Dancing. This blog has nothing to do with the film, so apologies if you came here for that. I once said I wouldn't do a blog that was a journal, yet here it is. I don't know why yet, except maybe I need to share.

Today I was told to tidy up my office space. You might not understand why that commentary prompted this blog, because you may not know that I get Bullied At Work. You won't yet know either that "I live in squalor." *Stands up as if in an AA meeting*

Go here: Squalor Survivors if you feel you need to address this issue too.


I have been living in squalor for a good many years now. I suppose it started when I lost my place at University. I came home with my crates, and they kind of never got unpacked or sorted out or thrown away. I couldn't deal with the change in my life from hopeful student to hopeless failure. Throwing away my University stuff would have been significant in acknowledging that situation.

For a long time my squalor was limited to my bedroom, the one room in the house I could call my own, since I was living with my parents.

In due course, though, my parents both died. My siblings came over and threw away pretty much everything my parents had owned apart from the furniture. I think that may have helped make my hoarding worse, though I realise now that I was already having problems.

I inherited my parents space. It stayed their space for a while, so it was safe from squalorisation. Eventually, though, I began the process of claiming the space. At first this happened in a healthy way. I got some parts of the house re-decorated, (though I realise now that was done on the back of squalor, because insurance paid for it when the physical deterioration of the house caused some damage to the structure).

I began gradually to claim the living space, by moving out the small remnants from my parents occupation and bringing into view more and more of my things. Now, approximately ten years later, I am living in second degree squalor, bordering on third degree.

Today I found Squalor Survivors. Today I learnt more about my squalor and the reasons behind it. It wasn't totally new. I already explored the topic with my counsellor recently. I knew there were emotional and mental health elements to why I live in squalor, but I didn't realise there might be physical health reasons for it too. I certainly didn't know there were related medical conditions. Having a 'condition' suggests it might be treatable. Or am I just clutching for straws ? Anyway, I've applied to join the list and stuff and I am reading up on things. Step One accomplished.