Do I hoard?
After revealing that my mother has hoarding disorder and that she was once featured on the show Hoarders, I almost inevitably get asked: Do you a hoard too?
My response is simple: No.
My house is not perfect, but it is a long way from ever being considered overly cluttered. I’ll admit that I secretly wish it to looked like it jumped out of the pages of IKEA. However, I am not that organized and together. Like most, our family has several spots that collect things. For example, the desk seems to be the catch all for everything anyone doesn’t know where to put. Likewise, the top shelf of the bookcase is usually covered with keys and other random objects as pockets are emptied coming in the front door. But for the most part, my home is no different than yours. We have six active children, and our home represents this well!But several days ago, I had a moment of insight. I was struggling once again with the order of my living room when I realized something very deep and very important.
My conclusions
Because of how I grew up, because of the past hurts, because of present insecurities, I have an unusually strong desire to have a perfect home. Why? I am worried that somehow I might become a hoarder too. This fear drives me to some stinking thinking.
I believe that if my home is perfect, then no one will notice that I am a wreck on the inside.
I know this isn’t a rational thought. Honestly, it sounds kind of stupid. How could a house represent my mind and heart’s state? But growing up, I learned that part of the way to keep people from prying into our lives and finding out the family secret was to be “put together” on the outside. When you were clean, nicely dressed, well-prepared for school with a neat, organized notebook and homework done, you dodged the bullet. Teachers and classmates were very unaware that my home was the complete opposite of how I presented myself.
I did a great job of hiding the secret.
But while I hid the secret of our mess, I struggled to know who I was. The little girl who felt pain, anxiety, and deep fear of her home being discovered for what it was, also felt that who she really was must be covered up also. Not only was my house in a shambles, my little heart was too. Although I longed to reveal the true state of my heart, it was not safe to do it.
Surveying my house
This morning I took a look around to survey the house.
In the aftermath of movie night, I awoke to find that the kids who stayed up after we went to bed hadn’t picked up after themselves. They left the plastic containers from their McDonald’s hot fudge sundaes on the kitchen table. Similarly, there were various toys, papers, and clothing strewn across the living room floor. In a rush, we haphazardly tossed some puzzles on the desk to keep our youngest daughter from getting them. It’s a little bit like chaos. But it’s manageable.
Today, in a rare moment of clarity, I did not freak out when I got up and saw this. Honestly, this is how my heart looks most days. I know inside my heart there are empty wrappers shed from happy memories of the past, strewn here and there. In the excitement of those moments, my heart stayed in the moment and some things got dropped. Gratefully, I am aware that I have moments of joy (toys), moments of revelation (papers), and coping devices (clothing) are filling my heart. If you had the power to see in there, you might say it’s a bit of a mess right now.
My internal state
I have learned that no matter how clean my house is, my heart is always in process. Sometimes, I go through periods of great growth and change. In those moments, my heart is the messiest. But no matter how clean my house is, it will never arrange and tidy up my heart. And that’s okay.
Some days, I stop for a moment and do a deep cleaning of my heart. I take the time to look really deep, going through the recesses within my heart. Often I find treasures stored there and sometimes I find junk. The treasures are the things that have made me a better person. The junk is the broken thought processes that keep me bound to the past and to negative thoughts.
I’m learning that just as I go through and clean my house, I can go through, sort, and toss the things that keep me weighed down to something less than what I wish to be. I can put good memories on shelves to display (sharing good memories with my children). In the same way, I can choose to donate experiences that were helpful to me for learning something (encouraging others and sharing my story). Likewise, I can throw out the junk and trash (acceptance and forgiving myself and others).
Do I hoard? Yes. I hoard emotions, both negative and positive ones. Recently, I have been holding them tightly, especially the bad ones . In the same way that a compulsive hoarder can be taught new patterns and thought processes, so can the little girl within me. Slowly, each moment, each day, I am making a difference in my hoarded emotions.
Sadly, It’s not going to be done tomorrow. Though I would rather have it done all at once, I recognize and embrace the importance of the process and respect that it may take a lifetime to complete. I know it’s worth the hard work. Even if I struggle at times, I will not give up until it’s done.
