Had a great chat with a family member recently. I opened up about my hoarding and explained the process I am in with purging my home of the clutter and purging my head of wrong thinking about my stuff.
She asked what kind of stuff I hang onto. I answered her right away because I had already identified the two categories. "Sentimental" things... things that have sentimental value to me and therefore I assign emotional value to it and have trouble letting it go. And "Just in Case" things. Things that I believe I may need, or someone else may need one day.
The Just in Case is what is out of control more than anything else.
Confession time:
At last count, I have 72 socks that have lost their match. I keep them (for years? gulp.) in the hopes that their true match will one day find it's way back into our lives.
I have 1 1/2 bins of wrapping paper, bows, ribbons and gift bags. Just in case I should ever need them. The funny thing is that some of the gift bags, etc. that are in there I have had in my possession since the first year I was married.
I have over 20 purses. Just in case I should need that small silver glittery one the next time I go on a cruise, the small black one that matches a perfect black dress that doesn't fit me any more, and a brown leopard one with patent handle that will go perfect with brown patent peep toes that I have looked for at stores for over 2 years now. ...
I have the hard drive to a computer that died 3 years ago. The drive pretty much melted and the data on it couldn't be retrieved. I kept it though. My daughters baby pictures are on it. Things I had been working on were on that drive. Maybe one day technology will find a way to bring it back to life? Or I will have the $1000 it would take to send it to a computer hard drive hospital and have it re built.
Just in Case.
I have a suit case with the zipper broken on it.
I have clothes that are 2 sizes too small for me.
I have bins and boxes of hobbies I haven't picked up in years. Scrapbooking, piano books, etc.
I have 11 earrings that don't have their match.
I have 2 totes full of craft items from the 1990's.
I have boxes of magazines that have recipes and household tips that I thought I may need... one day. But thinking about it now, they are from the 1990's or earlier. Chances are they won't even apply to my life or my style by the time I finally go through them.
...
It's a "Just In Case" epidemic at my home.
But, "you never know", I think. "Someone might need this stuff one day."
I talk myself into keeping it. If I happen to be smart and throw it out, I keep thinking about that item in the trash. It keeps bugging me and doesn't stop until its gone with the garbage truck.
It is hard to let these things go. I can't explain why. I can't describe the feeling. I feel foolish just talking about it. There is fear behind it, this I know. There is a control that I don't want to give up. And more than that, there is the desire to meet a need. A need of my own, and also the needs of my family and friends. I just love coming the rescue with an item for someone. "Where in the world did you get that?" they ask.
"oh, I happened to hang onto it... Just in Case."
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Under the Pile... of baby clothes
One of the things I knew I would one day have to face is the sorting and giving away of baby clothes. My children are now ages 8 and 5 and I have kept and stored and labeled all of their clothes from birth to now. So much has been given to us and we have purchased a bit of it too. I loved combing through garage sales when they were little and finding great deals on cute clothes for them to run around in.
I shoved tote after tote in the attic of our home. When we moved, they all came with us (much to the displeasure of my husband). I told him (and myself) that one day my sisters would have children and I would pass the clothes on then.
That day has come. My one sister is adopting a little girl, so all my girl clothes can go to her. Another sister is expecting a baby boy in the Spring. My 8 year old son won't be needing that cute 0-3 month old sleeper ever again. Time to give it all up.
...
It is harder than I thought.
I want to tell them to take care of these things.
I wonder if they know how precious they are to me.
I wonder if they realize all the emotions and memories that are bound up in these little things. The sweet little sweaters, the booties, the hats. I found little shoes that I remember trying to tie onto my sons feet as he kicked and kicked. He giggled the whole time, he loved making it hard on mommy to get those shoes on his feet.
Of course they won't know. They don't realize. But these things are just clothes after all. I know that one of my issues is assigning emotional value to things. This is a prime example, I guess. I need to keep moving and just do it.
It's easier for me to give things away that mean a lot to me, when I know that I mean a lot to the other person. When I question if they value me or not, then it's hard to give things I value to them.
I have so much that I'm feeling right now. I wanted to just put it all off, walk away from the piles and drown my sorrows in a cup of chai.
But I have hauled down every single tote from the attic and I am not bringing it back up. I'm determined to move forward... one onesie, one sleeper, one bootie at a time.
I shoved tote after tote in the attic of our home. When we moved, they all came with us (much to the displeasure of my husband). I told him (and myself) that one day my sisters would have children and I would pass the clothes on then.
That day has come. My one sister is adopting a little girl, so all my girl clothes can go to her. Another sister is expecting a baby boy in the Spring. My 8 year old son won't be needing that cute 0-3 month old sleeper ever again. Time to give it all up.
...
It is harder than I thought.
I want to tell them to take care of these things.
I wonder if they know how precious they are to me.
I wonder if they realize all the emotions and memories that are bound up in these little things. The sweet little sweaters, the booties, the hats. I found little shoes that I remember trying to tie onto my sons feet as he kicked and kicked. He giggled the whole time, he loved making it hard on mommy to get those shoes on his feet.
Of course they won't know. They don't realize. But these things are just clothes after all. I know that one of my issues is assigning emotional value to things. This is a prime example, I guess. I need to keep moving and just do it.
It's easier for me to give things away that mean a lot to me, when I know that I mean a lot to the other person. When I question if they value me or not, then it's hard to give things I value to them.
I have so much that I'm feeling right now. I wanted to just put it all off, walk away from the piles and drown my sorrows in a cup of chai.
But I have hauled down every single tote from the attic and I am not bringing it back up. I'm determined to move forward... one onesie, one sleeper, one bootie at a time.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
A New Year...
But the same me.
I am finding that my mind is constantly attempting to organize itself.
It WANTS to clean out the clutter.
I was delighted to discover that I do have SOME sense of organization when I unpacked my Christmas decorations this year. Boxes were packed by room. The tree decorations had it's own box. And my boxes were all green totes so they were easy to identify... that is, all 13 of them.
Yep. 1 normal size house. Family of 4. But 13 large green storage totes of Christmas decorations.
Somehow my organizational mind went hay wire.
How did I get like this?
Maybe I'll figure out how and why and what I have to do to end it in 2011.
One can only hope.
I am finding that my mind is constantly attempting to organize itself.
It WANTS to clean out the clutter.
I was delighted to discover that I do have SOME sense of organization when I unpacked my Christmas decorations this year. Boxes were packed by room. The tree decorations had it's own box. And my boxes were all green totes so they were easy to identify... that is, all 13 of them.
Yep. 1 normal size house. Family of 4. But 13 large green storage totes of Christmas decorations.
Somehow my organizational mind went hay wire.
How did I get like this?
Maybe I'll figure out how and why and what I have to do to end it in 2011.
One can only hope.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Tough Love
Yeah, so after finally admitting I had a hoarding problem, I began my journey. I decided to attempt a cleanse of some of the most densly populated areas in my home and see if I had it in me to de-clutter. I called in reenforcements.
My friend Julie is super duper organized and throws out stuff without a second glance. I almost went dumpster diving after she moved because I knew there was a ton of great stuff out there. But I didn’t. She would have KILLED me.
She came over and we tackled a corner in my dining room. There were about five broken Christmas ornaments laying there. Some had been there for three years (when we moved in). Several were sentimental so I felt an immediate panic as Julie tried to get me to throw them away. I begged her to let me keep it. “I will fix it!” I claimed. She said “Then fix it now, or out it goes.” It was the tough love that I needed and I ran to find the super glue. I couldn’t find it anywhere. “I know P bought it recently. He knew I had a ton of stuff laying around waiting to be fixed." Then we found the glue, sitting there in the dining room next to the very pile we had been going through. Guess that was his way of a not so subtle hint to get things moving.
We fixed several of the ornaments and I let a couple go. We threw out more things and put other things away. Soon I had a clean corner in the room and we had a bag of garbage sitting in front of us. “Here,” I said. “I’ll take this to the trash.”
“Nope.” Julie answered as she tightened her grip on the first bag of my hoarding stash. “this one comes with me. I’ll throw it out at my place so you can’t dive back in after it.”
She knows me so well.
Julie moved south soon after that. :( Too far to come back for a visit or an intervention.
But maybe her little loving 'push' in the right direction and long distance support will be enough.
My friend Julie is super duper organized and throws out stuff without a second glance. I almost went dumpster diving after she moved because I knew there was a ton of great stuff out there. But I didn’t. She would have KILLED me.
She came over and we tackled a corner in my dining room. There were about five broken Christmas ornaments laying there. Some had been there for three years (when we moved in). Several were sentimental so I felt an immediate panic as Julie tried to get me to throw them away. I begged her to let me keep it. “I will fix it!” I claimed. She said “Then fix it now, or out it goes.” It was the tough love that I needed and I ran to find the super glue. I couldn’t find it anywhere. “I know P bought it recently. He knew I had a ton of stuff laying around waiting to be fixed." Then we found the glue, sitting there in the dining room next to the very pile we had been going through. Guess that was his way of a not so subtle hint to get things moving.
We fixed several of the ornaments and I let a couple go. We threw out more things and put other things away. Soon I had a clean corner in the room and we had a bag of garbage sitting in front of us. “Here,” I said. “I’ll take this to the trash.”
“Nope.” Julie answered as she tightened her grip on the first bag of my hoarding stash. “this one comes with me. I’ll throw it out at my place so you can’t dive back in after it.”
She knows me so well.
Julie moved south soon after that. :( Too far to come back for a visit or an intervention.
But maybe her little loving 'push' in the right direction and long distance support will be enough.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
friends
So I have discovered that I am in fact, a hoarder of friends.
Not any friends, mind you, but 1st born friends. Who are amazing women. All who love me dearly And (here is the catch) are all incredibly clean and organized house keepers.
Perhaps, on top of my hoarding issues I also have a deep need to remind my self of how truly awful I am. So I surround myself with women who are impossible to measure up to. Me, being the messiest, hoardingist, of them all. Me and my dear junk. So I invite my amazing friends who know better than to keep 20+ cook books on a single shelf over to my kitchen to bake with me. And over they come. With their one, sweet little binder of a cookbook and they look at my mess of piles of cook books, my binder of recipes falling out, and the flour and sugar floating in clouds above my head and they smile and I know they think in that moment "ah. there is no hope for her."
Not any friends, mind you, but 1st born friends. Who are amazing women. All who love me dearly And (here is the catch) are all incredibly clean and organized house keepers.
Perhaps, on top of my hoarding issues I also have a deep need to remind my self of how truly awful I am. So I surround myself with women who are impossible to measure up to. Me, being the messiest, hoardingist, of them all. Me and my dear junk. So I invite my amazing friends who know better than to keep 20+ cook books on a single shelf over to my kitchen to bake with me. And over they come. With their one, sweet little binder of a cookbook and they look at my mess of piles of cook books, my binder of recipes falling out, and the flour and sugar floating in clouds above my head and they smile and I know they think in that moment "ah. there is no hope for her."
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Hoarders... Buried Alive
So when did I realize I was a hoarder? About six months ago.
I’ve been a hoarder since I was a teen (maybe earlier) and didn’t think of myself as anything more than a clutter bug for another 20+ years. I was flipping through the channels on our tv when a show “Hoarding: Buried Alive” caught my eye. I was sucked into the sad tale of a woman who was living in a home full of piles of junk and stuff. They sent in a therapist to help her dig out of it all.
I didn’t really identify with the hoarder or anything in the show UNTIL the therapist started asking questions about the things she saw in the home. “Why are you keeping this?” she asked as she picked up a jar. “Well, I might need it one day.” Another episode revealed the strong emotional ties people have to things. But practically it makes no sense to keep them. I found myself identifying with the hoarders and even identifying with their things. I would tear up as something was thrown out and the hoarder had to let go. I felt bad for them (not just the hoarder but the possession). I over identified with the THING.
It was messed up.
One night, I was watching Hoarders and my husband was there with me. I turned to him and calmly said “Do you think I’m a hoarder?” (Which in my language meant “Please tell me I’m not and that I only have a clutter problem.”) But he answered me with “You don’t think you are?”
...
I’ve been a hoarder since I was a teen (maybe earlier) and didn’t think of myself as anything more than a clutter bug for another 20+ years. I was flipping through the channels on our tv when a show “Hoarding: Buried Alive” caught my eye. I was sucked into the sad tale of a woman who was living in a home full of piles of junk and stuff. They sent in a therapist to help her dig out of it all.
I didn’t really identify with the hoarder or anything in the show UNTIL the therapist started asking questions about the things she saw in the home. “Why are you keeping this?” she asked as she picked up a jar. “Well, I might need it one day.” Another episode revealed the strong emotional ties people have to things. But practically it makes no sense to keep them. I found myself identifying with the hoarders and even identifying with their things. I would tear up as something was thrown out and the hoarder had to let go. I felt bad for them (not just the hoarder but the possession). I over identified with the THING.
It was messed up.
One night, I was watching Hoarders and my husband was there with me. I turned to him and calmly said “Do you think I’m a hoarder?” (Which in my language meant “Please tell me I’m not and that I only have a clutter problem.”) But he answered me with “You don’t think you are?”
...
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Gifted? Don't think he got it from me
I went to N’s school today to have a parent-teacher conference with his teacher. She told me N. should be tested to see if he is gifted. How bad is it that I thought “Gee, I hope he is gifted at cleaning.”
N and A have picked up my messy tendencies. Their rooms are clutter magnets and I get so overwhelmed trying to clean up. N tries and does as good a job as he can. He actually attempts organization and I was shocked to find him labeling all the baskets in our living room cabinet to identify their contents.
I’ve attempted organization several times. Hence, the baskets. I have a hunch that I have all the tools I need to get started. Baskets? Check. Storage Totes? Check. Garbage Bags? Check. Salvation Army only minutes away? Check.
A mental will to get rid of half my crap? … well, I guess we’ll see.
N and A have picked up my messy tendencies. Their rooms are clutter magnets and I get so overwhelmed trying to clean up. N tries and does as good a job as he can. He actually attempts organization and I was shocked to find him labeling all the baskets in our living room cabinet to identify their contents.
I’ve attempted organization several times. Hence, the baskets. I have a hunch that I have all the tools I need to get started. Baskets? Check. Storage Totes? Check. Garbage Bags? Check. Salvation Army only minutes away? Check.
A mental will to get rid of half my crap? … well, I guess we’ll see.
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