My Name is Wil Wheaton. I live with chronic Depression, and I am not ashamed.
Who knew Wil Wheaton and I shared so many similarities? He's just a little better at describing everyday life with depression and anxiety disorders than I am. I'm going to take a page from his book and start writing that I live with mental illness, but it does not define me. I live with bipolar disorder, social anxiety, generalised anxiety disorder, obsessive-compulsive disorder, hoarding syndrome, driving anxiety, among other things. I am afraid almost every moment of my life. It's crippling at times, but I still get up and go to work each day and take one step at a time. I take a good blend of medication -- a mood stabilizer and atypical antipsychotic (I'm not psychotic, but it works for other things, and you shouldn't give someone worth bipolar disorder SSRI antidepressants, as they can trigger mania), and an anti-anxiety medication. That helps immensely. Therapy has helped, too. But I will never be cured. I know that ust like I live with chronic diabetes that can be managed, but never really completely cured, no matter what some people claim in diet books. It's another type of illness, just an imbalance in my brain chemistry rather than the hormone imbalance behind diabetes. It's nothing to be ashamed or stigmatised by, although it often is. So I'm writing about this now. I live with mental illness every day. It is a constant companion questioning my every move. But I'm ultimately the one on the driver's seat. It is my life. I struggle, but I choose to live as fully as possible
Showing posts with label Hoarding. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hoarding. Show all posts
Saturday, May 05, 2018
Wednesday, October 12, 2016
Hadn't thought about it
But when I got up to go to the bathroom and went to wash my hands, there was air in the pipe and for a moment it ran brown, due to the water heater having been changed. It was also decidedly cold. I hope I won't be taking a cold shower in the morning. The temperature in the apartment is also pretty cool; I've had the windows all open and it's only 67 degrees outside.
I stopped by Kroger on the way home from PT earlier, to look for hazelnut oil for a friend, and took back the two 13-gallon bags of Kroger plastic bags. I'll put a bunch of reusable ones in the car for further trips.
It feels good to have a house that is somewhat orderly. For all that I tend to hoard, I actually get quite distressed by clutter. Some people never realise they have a problem; I do, immensely. Oh, don't get me wrong, often I don't realise 'just how bad' it's gotten, or I can be noseblind or somewhat blind to the clutter, too, as many people who hoard tend to underestimate their clutter. But it's a part of my life that's about control--I should have control over it, but I let my possessions control me. I'm not a materialistic person per se--they're not expensive or flashy by any means. But each item tends to have an emotional component assigned to it that most people wouldn't begin to do.
Ironically, hoarding is sometimes about trying to maintain a certain amount of control of one's environment, when one feels other things are not within one's control. Like the neat freak or someone with OCD or an anxiety disorder, compulsive hoarding and acquiring (for that's an important component that's often overlooked) is a means to keep others at bay. I know, for example, with myself, that it is an extension partly of my social phobia. If my house is 'out of control' and unpleasant, others will not set foot in it. It becomes my area alone, a sort of nest, when I don't need to worry about others interfering. That is one reason, I think, that hoarders get so terribly upset (sometimes to the point of crisis) if someone goes in and removes their clutter or things without their permission. Please, never do that to someone. One, it causes deep and lasting damage (I still remember having my dad throw out everything that wasn't in its place, and a few things that were, when I was a kid, and it was devastating, and only contributed to later problems). Two, it doesn't address the problem, or only addresses it temporarily. It does not change the behaviour, and often one finds the hoarder will then collect more things than ever before in an effort to seek that control that was taken away from them.
I think one of my problems is that, as a military brat, my things were regularly given away or thrown out without my consultation whenever we moved. I have very few things from my childhood, and things that were precious to me were tossed or given away without any real consent. I remember, for example, that the dress I graduated kindergarten in, which I had outgrown, was given to a neighbourhood girl that I didn't like at all, who'd been mean to me, and I resented it. Yes, I couldn't wear it, but it wasn't my decision to give it away, and if consulted, I would have chosen someone else.
For someone who has blocked out much of their childhood experiences, those still ring with emotion. My things were like friends. When I was young, living in Louisiana, we were uncharacteristically stationed at one base for six years. From age 6-12, I actually had some stability. Then I moved, losing my friends, and began a three-state journey with three junior high schools in that short of a time. It was a terrible time to have that upheaval, and I didn't really make many friends. I derived comfort from my things. Even as a small child, I'd been messy to the point of problems with my parents, who could not understand why I would not clean my room. In one way, it was a bit of rebellion. I was such an utterly good child. I was almost no trouble at all, because I put so much pressure on myself of being the 'good girl', the responsible one, the studious one. I was chatty when I was young, but shy with strangers as I got older. Looking back at it now, most of my childhood I was depressed and anxious, feeling unwanted and unloved, for the most part. Not having strong peer relationships (I usually had one friend or so at a time, at least until we (or they) were stationed again), I made relationships with books, in particular, and with generally useless objects, like pretty rocks, or stuffed animals.
When I went off to college, our tiny dorm room prevented me from being messy, except maybe under my bed, which lifted and hinged for storage. When I moved into an apartment with the man who would later be my ex-husband, we had a walk-in closet that we referred jokingly to as my 'hoard'. The apartment was cluttered, but he was a neat freak. So, things stayed in check. Then I divorced, moved out on my own, acquired over a very short time four more animals (I'd had one cat--then another because he was inconsolable at losing his sister, my ex-husband's cat), then a dog, a cat, and a dog.) That made things worse, as you can imagine. At one point I really did have paths through my tiny apartment, and things got pretty bad. Things are actually not nearly as bad in terms of clutter as they have been, and I've had several self-imposed purges and one eviction (not for hoarding, but being unable to pay for a larger apartment after having my work hours cut) to deal with since that. But the underlying behaviour has never changed. I'll be okay for about six months, and then it will start to creep in again. And I'm tired of it. I'm feeling buried under my things, both physically and emotionally, and that is why I sought out my therapist, who has specialised in anxiety disorders and uses cognitive behaviour therapy.
I probably shouldn't really be writing about such things, or posting pictures. I'm trying to find a job, after all, and a quick Google search will bring people here. But maybe I can help people understand what's going on a bit. I know people are fascinated with so-called reality shows and the like. I don't watch those. They may be uncomfortable in the extreme, because I recognise that I have the same problem, and I would never want my life so put on display like some sort of freak show.
I read in one of my books that as mental illness goes, hoarding may actually be much more common than other disorders. There are a lot of us quietly suffering, mostly in silence, in our own homes, in our own mess, afraid to let anyone in. And hoarding can have lasting effects on children growing up in that environment and on spouses of those who hoard. But a lot of us are on our own, with a limited support system. I'm lucky to have a friend who not only is very, very loving and who has helped nudge me to therapy, but who has experience with multiple cases of hoarding in his own family and so yes, on one level he gets it. But sometimes I say something that just floors him, because I don't think like other people, at least about possessions. And for all his experience in some ways, he's not a hoarder himself. He and my other friends tend to just think they could help by cleaning things up for me or helping me purge things. But it won't. This is going to be a slow process. My therapist said that in most cases he's encountered, people work on their hoarding problem for awhile but eventually fall away; perhaps parting with things becomes more painful than the motivation to change. I don't want to follow this road; of course, in about nine months I lose my health care benefit (and my job loss is six months away). So, at a time when my anxiety level is increasing, I'm possibly going to lose that chance at therapy. I've got to work as much as possible in the meantime, I think, if I'm going to reap the benefits of therapy. That's the idea, anyway.
I've rambled on for almost an hour. I think it's time to shut the windows, get ready for bed, retreat to the bedroom, and maybe do some reading before I fall asleep. Good night.
I stopped by Kroger on the way home from PT earlier, to look for hazelnut oil for a friend, and took back the two 13-gallon bags of Kroger plastic bags. I'll put a bunch of reusable ones in the car for further trips.
It feels good to have a house that is somewhat orderly. For all that I tend to hoard, I actually get quite distressed by clutter. Some people never realise they have a problem; I do, immensely. Oh, don't get me wrong, often I don't realise 'just how bad' it's gotten, or I can be noseblind or somewhat blind to the clutter, too, as many people who hoard tend to underestimate their clutter. But it's a part of my life that's about control--I should have control over it, but I let my possessions control me. I'm not a materialistic person per se--they're not expensive or flashy by any means. But each item tends to have an emotional component assigned to it that most people wouldn't begin to do.
Ironically, hoarding is sometimes about trying to maintain a certain amount of control of one's environment, when one feels other things are not within one's control. Like the neat freak or someone with OCD or an anxiety disorder, compulsive hoarding and acquiring (for that's an important component that's often overlooked) is a means to keep others at bay. I know, for example, with myself, that it is an extension partly of my social phobia. If my house is 'out of control' and unpleasant, others will not set foot in it. It becomes my area alone, a sort of nest, when I don't need to worry about others interfering. That is one reason, I think, that hoarders get so terribly upset (sometimes to the point of crisis) if someone goes in and removes their clutter or things without their permission. Please, never do that to someone. One, it causes deep and lasting damage (I still remember having my dad throw out everything that wasn't in its place, and a few things that were, when I was a kid, and it was devastating, and only contributed to later problems). Two, it doesn't address the problem, or only addresses it temporarily. It does not change the behaviour, and often one finds the hoarder will then collect more things than ever before in an effort to seek that control that was taken away from them.
I think one of my problems is that, as a military brat, my things were regularly given away or thrown out without my consultation whenever we moved. I have very few things from my childhood, and things that were precious to me were tossed or given away without any real consent. I remember, for example, that the dress I graduated kindergarten in, which I had outgrown, was given to a neighbourhood girl that I didn't like at all, who'd been mean to me, and I resented it. Yes, I couldn't wear it, but it wasn't my decision to give it away, and if consulted, I would have chosen someone else.
For someone who has blocked out much of their childhood experiences, those still ring with emotion. My things were like friends. When I was young, living in Louisiana, we were uncharacteristically stationed at one base for six years. From age 6-12, I actually had some stability. Then I moved, losing my friends, and began a three-state journey with three junior high schools in that short of a time. It was a terrible time to have that upheaval, and I didn't really make many friends. I derived comfort from my things. Even as a small child, I'd been messy to the point of problems with my parents, who could not understand why I would not clean my room. In one way, it was a bit of rebellion. I was such an utterly good child. I was almost no trouble at all, because I put so much pressure on myself of being the 'good girl', the responsible one, the studious one. I was chatty when I was young, but shy with strangers as I got older. Looking back at it now, most of my childhood I was depressed and anxious, feeling unwanted and unloved, for the most part. Not having strong peer relationships (I usually had one friend or so at a time, at least until we (or they) were stationed again), I made relationships with books, in particular, and with generally useless objects, like pretty rocks, or stuffed animals.
When I went off to college, our tiny dorm room prevented me from being messy, except maybe under my bed, which lifted and hinged for storage. When I moved into an apartment with the man who would later be my ex-husband, we had a walk-in closet that we referred jokingly to as my 'hoard'. The apartment was cluttered, but he was a neat freak. So, things stayed in check. Then I divorced, moved out on my own, acquired over a very short time four more animals (I'd had one cat--then another because he was inconsolable at losing his sister, my ex-husband's cat), then a dog, a cat, and a dog.) That made things worse, as you can imagine. At one point I really did have paths through my tiny apartment, and things got pretty bad. Things are actually not nearly as bad in terms of clutter as they have been, and I've had several self-imposed purges and one eviction (not for hoarding, but being unable to pay for a larger apartment after having my work hours cut) to deal with since that. But the underlying behaviour has never changed. I'll be okay for about six months, and then it will start to creep in again. And I'm tired of it. I'm feeling buried under my things, both physically and emotionally, and that is why I sought out my therapist, who has specialised in anxiety disorders and uses cognitive behaviour therapy.
I probably shouldn't really be writing about such things, or posting pictures. I'm trying to find a job, after all, and a quick Google search will bring people here. But maybe I can help people understand what's going on a bit. I know people are fascinated with so-called reality shows and the like. I don't watch those. They may be uncomfortable in the extreme, because I recognise that I have the same problem, and I would never want my life so put on display like some sort of freak show.
I read in one of my books that as mental illness goes, hoarding may actually be much more common than other disorders. There are a lot of us quietly suffering, mostly in silence, in our own homes, in our own mess, afraid to let anyone in. And hoarding can have lasting effects on children growing up in that environment and on spouses of those who hoard. But a lot of us are on our own, with a limited support system. I'm lucky to have a friend who not only is very, very loving and who has helped nudge me to therapy, but who has experience with multiple cases of hoarding in his own family and so yes, on one level he gets it. But sometimes I say something that just floors him, because I don't think like other people, at least about possessions. And for all his experience in some ways, he's not a hoarder himself. He and my other friends tend to just think they could help by cleaning things up for me or helping me purge things. But it won't. This is going to be a slow process. My therapist said that in most cases he's encountered, people work on their hoarding problem for awhile but eventually fall away; perhaps parting with things becomes more painful than the motivation to change. I don't want to follow this road; of course, in about nine months I lose my health care benefit (and my job loss is six months away). So, at a time when my anxiety level is increasing, I'm possibly going to lose that chance at therapy. I've got to work as much as possible in the meantime, I think, if I'm going to reap the benefits of therapy. That's the idea, anyway.
I've rambled on for almost an hour. I think it's time to shut the windows, get ready for bed, retreat to the bedroom, and maybe do some reading before I fall asleep. Good night.
Friday, October 07, 2016
I will not panic, I will not panic...
Five days. I have five days to make this place look like it belongs to a neat, sane person (or at least as close as a hoarder with certain issues can).
Wednesday, October 05, 2016
I am reading a book on my Kindle that dovetails nicely
with the workbook I got for therapy, as two of the authors are the same. It's called Buried in Treasures, and a lot of the self-evaluation carries over to the workbook. This has good suggestions for going through and working on the house a little at a time. I brought a copy paper box home today, to go with one I had already, and I want to set up a staging area in the living room and have four containers: the trash can, the recyclables container, a box of things to keep, and a box of things to give away. At the end of each session, I'll put away the things to keep, and then just keep emptying the trash and recyclables as needed, leaving me with things to get rid of that are still useful (to someone else). I'm going to set a timer and try to increase my time of sorting each day. I'd like to read a little more of the book tonight, and start tomorrow, first taking out the trash and recyclables that are already in their containers. So I have a plan, of sorts. I need to do it without distractions, although my first thought was to listen to music to help me 'clean'. This is different than cleaning. This is sorting and making decisions on the way items should be discarded or kept. I'm hoping by the time I see my therapist that I've made a good start, between the assessment in chapter two of the workbook and the work on the house. If I can do a little every day, even if it's just a half hour or so, then I can do a lot. I've told my friend that I'll be weeding books soon, and he's got first dibs. After he's had a chance, I'll give them to the public library (since I can't get even a dollar a book from Half Price Books for brand new books, grrr.)
Today, before Costco, I went and dropped off a friend's bill and while I was there paid mine. Then I put a cheque he'd given me to reimburse me for some things into the bank. At Costco I tried to not impulse-buy, and got just a few things I knew I'd use, like orange juice, bagels, cheese (those Frigo Cheeseheads I take to the game are $9.99 for 60, as opposed to $6.89 for 16 at Kroger), and crackers. Oh, and I found some butternut squash pasta sauce that sounded good, and I have a lot of pasta right now. I can make that and take it to work for lunch.
Okay, I'm going to go do some reading, charge my phone, and listen to music. Good night, in case I don't write anymore tonight.
Today, before Costco, I went and dropped off a friend's bill and while I was there paid mine. Then I put a cheque he'd given me to reimburse me for some things into the bank. At Costco I tried to not impulse-buy, and got just a few things I knew I'd use, like orange juice, bagels, cheese (those Frigo Cheeseheads I take to the game are $9.99 for 60, as opposed to $6.89 for 16 at Kroger), and crackers. Oh, and I found some butternut squash pasta sauce that sounded good, and I have a lot of pasta right now. I can make that and take it to work for lunch.
Okay, I'm going to go do some reading, charge my phone, and listen to music. Good night, in case I don't write anymore tonight.
Monday, October 03, 2016
A good day
Today was pretty decent. Unlike Friday, when I overslept and ran out of the door without bothering to even comb my hair (I noticed in the rearview mirror on the way, at least), I was up a little early, got to work right on time, and had a busy and fairly productive day, which was pretty decent considering I spent most of the weekend over at a friend's helping him cook and cleaning his house. I got to eat some of what we cooked last night, and it was great. The butternut squash which I'd groused about because I hate peeling winter squash, and there were five of them, was wonderful, with sauteed garlic and onions mixed in. There was escarole surprise soup--the surprise being that it was actually spinach, as the store didn't have escarole. :) I went over after work today to finish the floors (I'd put off mopping since I figured I'd get potato skins on the floor anyway, as yesterday was a potato broccoli cheddar casserole.) But he was expecting company, and I'd forgotten, so I took my groceries (I'd stopped by to get a decent container for soup, and got a few things for dinner), and came home--which works out perfectly, because I have to 1) finish a book review for The Journal of Hospital Librarianship that's due today and 2) I need to at least do the dishes (yes, I didn't manage that Sunday), and I plan to work on the kitchen and the bathroom. Because I was bringing in groceries, the first thing I did upon getting home was clean out the refrigerator and put it in order. I found some Greek Gods yoghurt at Kroger that I'd tried, it was a new flavour--chocolate cherry--and there was some marked down. I also got salad makings and the spring mix with herbs was marked down. Oh, and sourdough bread, the Goldminer's brand I like, was in the bargain area, so I got it and I had some for dinner with havarti cheese and dressing.
I also want to sit down and do some reading about hoarding, and prepare for my next session (which isn't until the 11th, but hey, it's something that I need to do). I fixed the notebook yesterday, of course, with tabs for each chapter. But I haven't really read through any of it yet; I've just taken the assessment.
One of my co-workers showed me the 'Saturday Night Live' sketch with Alec Baldwin as Donald Trump. He did such a good job. I really enjoyed it. You should watch it.
Okay, I've got Pandora on, the Bastille channel, and I'm going to work on the kitchen. I think I'll switch from the TV to my headphones and phone, so I can move about. I'll probably write later.
I also want to sit down and do some reading about hoarding, and prepare for my next session (which isn't until the 11th, but hey, it's something that I need to do). I fixed the notebook yesterday, of course, with tabs for each chapter. But I haven't really read through any of it yet; I've just taken the assessment.
One of my co-workers showed me the 'Saturday Night Live' sketch with Alec Baldwin as Donald Trump. He did such a good job. I really enjoyed it. You should watch it.
Okay, I've got Pandora on, the Bastille channel, and I'm going to work on the kitchen. I think I'll switch from the TV to my headphones and phone, so I can move about. I'll probably write later.
Sunday, October 02, 2016
So late Thursday night
I came home to find my carpet in the hallway mysteriously wet. My air conditioning hadn't leaked, my kitchen and bathroom were dry, and there was no sign of leak from above, although that must have been where it came from. This is where being a hoarder whose home is in the condition of say, moderate hoarding at the moment, is definitely a problem, because of course the first thing a normal person would do is call maintenance (the perk of not accruing equity in a house, but paying rent) and they'd come over with a wet-dry vacuum or something like that. But I didn't. And it wasn't so wet that I thought it would dry by morning, or least by Friday night.
I think that was wishful thinking. And of course, being a librarian, I am familiar with the temperatures and timelines of mould growth, although fortunately we've had cool fall temperatures the last couple of days.
Yesterday was spent with errands for my friend and cooking several things for the week for him, but today I'm actually free till about 12:30 or 1 pm. So...the first thing I did on my agenda, after sleeping late till 10:00 (I didn't get home till 1:30 last night, picking up A), was check my finances to see about renting a Rug Doctor machine from Kroger, when I remembered that I have a small (very small) machine from the days of when I had cats and dogs that vacuums wet stuff up. It's a Bissell Spotlifter, and while small and close to the ground, not meant for a yard of wet, it did work pretty well. I got quite a bit of water out of the carpet (it holds about half a gallon in its tank, and I took out one and a half of those), and using the cleaner will probably help, as well. So we'll see if it can dry completely now. If not, I can go ahead and get a bigger machine that will go deeper. But this had good suction, lifting the carpet and pad slightly, so I'm hoping it's sufficient.
On the hoarding front, I got the book that my therapist requested I get, It's called Treatment for Hoarding Disorder Workbook (there's also a therapist's guide, and he has the last edition, while this is the second, and he said he'd get that, which sort of indicated I'm the only active hoarder he has at the moment). The authors are Gail Steketee and Randy O. Frost. I have a book on my Kindle by them, called Buried in Treasures: Help for Compulsive Acquiring, Saving, and Hoarding, also in the 2nd edition, and written along with David F. Tolin, who is listed first in the authors. I went ahead and put together a notebook for therapy, dividing it into various sections that go along with the book. Rather than write in the book, since many pages will be used multiple times, I photocopied the second chapter's assessment pages (the first of the exercises), and did a self assessment, and will go over it with my therapist next time. The notebook is big enough that the workbook can fit in there as well. It's a plain black binder, so I'll need a place to keep it that I own't lose it. Right now I've got it in my backpack, because I want to read the first chapter thoroughly before going back to therapy in a week and a half.
Today we're going to cook some more and I'll do my laundry over there. So I need to get together some laundry. And maybe, just maybe, I'll work on the bathroom or kitchen today, because frankly, my home is getting not just messy, but dangerous, as things are strewn all over the place. :( Just doing the water pickup earlier was risky; there was going between the wet carpet and linoleum, as well as the whole bumping into things trying to throw stuff away or empty the machine. Not good. And really, if I'm going to rent a carpet cleaner, I'd rather rent it for the whole carpet, and that's not doable right now. I am going to try to marginally improve, at least, before the next meeting with the therapist, though. I just have so much to do lately, the apartment has had to take a back burner, and even when I'm here, I'm overwhelmed and tired. So I don't do anything. Maybe I can get some things done this morning--at the very least, dishes. Yes, I'll start with dishes. :)
I think that was wishful thinking. And of course, being a librarian, I am familiar with the temperatures and timelines of mould growth, although fortunately we've had cool fall temperatures the last couple of days.
Yesterday was spent with errands for my friend and cooking several things for the week for him, but today I'm actually free till about 12:30 or 1 pm. So...the first thing I did on my agenda, after sleeping late till 10:00 (I didn't get home till 1:30 last night, picking up A), was check my finances to see about renting a Rug Doctor machine from Kroger, when I remembered that I have a small (very small) machine from the days of when I had cats and dogs that vacuums wet stuff up. It's a Bissell Spotlifter, and while small and close to the ground, not meant for a yard of wet, it did work pretty well. I got quite a bit of water out of the carpet (it holds about half a gallon in its tank, and I took out one and a half of those), and using the cleaner will probably help, as well. So we'll see if it can dry completely now. If not, I can go ahead and get a bigger machine that will go deeper. But this had good suction, lifting the carpet and pad slightly, so I'm hoping it's sufficient.
On the hoarding front, I got the book that my therapist requested I get, It's called Treatment for Hoarding Disorder Workbook (there's also a therapist's guide, and he has the last edition, while this is the second, and he said he'd get that, which sort of indicated I'm the only active hoarder he has at the moment). The authors are Gail Steketee and Randy O. Frost. I have a book on my Kindle by them, called Buried in Treasures: Help for Compulsive Acquiring, Saving, and Hoarding, also in the 2nd edition, and written along with David F. Tolin, who is listed first in the authors. I went ahead and put together a notebook for therapy, dividing it into various sections that go along with the book. Rather than write in the book, since many pages will be used multiple times, I photocopied the second chapter's assessment pages (the first of the exercises), and did a self assessment, and will go over it with my therapist next time. The notebook is big enough that the workbook can fit in there as well. It's a plain black binder, so I'll need a place to keep it that I own't lose it. Right now I've got it in my backpack, because I want to read the first chapter thoroughly before going back to therapy in a week and a half.
Today we're going to cook some more and I'll do my laundry over there. So I need to get together some laundry. And maybe, just maybe, I'll work on the bathroom or kitchen today, because frankly, my home is getting not just messy, but dangerous, as things are strewn all over the place. :( Just doing the water pickup earlier was risky; there was going between the wet carpet and linoleum, as well as the whole bumping into things trying to throw stuff away or empty the machine. Not good. And really, if I'm going to rent a carpet cleaner, I'd rather rent it for the whole carpet, and that's not doable right now. I am going to try to marginally improve, at least, before the next meeting with the therapist, though. I just have so much to do lately, the apartment has had to take a back burner, and even when I'm here, I'm overwhelmed and tired. So I don't do anything. Maybe I can get some things done this morning--at the very least, dishes. Yes, I'll start with dishes. :)
Wednesday, September 28, 2016
Wow, what a crazy, busy day
I worked steadily throughout the day, especially on my referral duties. After work I had my first appointment with the new therapist, who seems very competent and knowledgeable. I showed him pictures of my apartment, and he immediately isolated things like videotapes without a VCR, etc. He is an expert in cognitive behaviour therapy, which is somewhat helpful for hoarding, more than most things. He did say the prognosis was guarded; hoarding is very difficult to treat, mainly because clients drop out of therapy when things get difficult. I really do want to change my coping strategies and try to get a handle on my hoarding. We also discussed my anxiety issues and driving anxiety, and we'll work on that, too.
You know one way to tell when someone has an anxiety disorder? When they take their medicine to work, realise that the one type of pill that's missing is their anti-anxiety medicine, and then get all anxious because they don't have it. That was me this morning, filling up my pill reminder box. So, driving over to the therapist's, while uneventful, really, left me shaking by the time I got there. I know, it's odd. He's the first counselor who's ever really asked me why I have trouble. The truth is, yes, I'm afraid of getting hurt, but when it comes down to it, the problem is that I can play by the rules, such as when I was struck by the car in a crosswalk while walking with the light, and bad things happen, but other people essentially don't follow the rules of the road fully and this makes me incredibly upset and agitated, especially if I feel threatened by them, like if they merge into my lane across three lanes and then slow down to a crawl right in front of me. Or people who intentionally get into lanes that will go away so that they can then bully their way in amongst the people who had the good sense to just get in the right freaking lane in the first place really get under my skin--that sort of thing. Essentially I get anxious and annoyed at people for not following the (my) rules. YKWIA calms me down when he's in the car; A actually makes it worse, because he has some visual issues, and if a car turns suddenly into the lane next to me, he's practically in my lap. Anyway, the counselor, Larry Coy, agreed that I should work on these issues (and hopefully I explained things without sounding like a total lunatic). He definitely thought I could benefit from CBT. We're going to try to get back together in two weeks, after I get out of work. CBT involves homework, often. My homework this time is to get a book, a workbook, actually, aimed at hoarding. He had an older version. It's called Treatment for Hoarding Disorder: Workbook , 2nd ed., by Gail Steketee. it is almost $35, and not particularly thick--both the Anxiety and Phobia Workbook and the dialectical behaviour manual for borderline personality disorder (I have both of those.) He has the first edition; hopefully the new one is somewhat expanded. He's going to get the therapist manual that goes to my edition, which is almost $50. I gather that he doesn't have any other hoards at the moment because he hasn't updated to the new definition or anything.
Wow. I know it's almost 2 am, but I am falling asleep with my computer up on my legs, lying in bed. I had better go on to bed. I spent three hours after the therapist's appointment cooking soup (curried soybean), a main dish (a Basque dish with peppers, onions, and tomatoes in egg), nd a salad with smoked salmon, berries, oranges, and honey mustard dressing--all from scratch. He couldn't really help because he was still having some issues, so he just directed me and I actually cooked almost everything. But I'm very tired as a result. Good nigth.
You know one way to tell when someone has an anxiety disorder? When they take their medicine to work, realise that the one type of pill that's missing is their anti-anxiety medicine, and then get all anxious because they don't have it. That was me this morning, filling up my pill reminder box. So, driving over to the therapist's, while uneventful, really, left me shaking by the time I got there. I know, it's odd. He's the first counselor who's ever really asked me why I have trouble. The truth is, yes, I'm afraid of getting hurt, but when it comes down to it, the problem is that I can play by the rules, such as when I was struck by the car in a crosswalk while walking with the light, and bad things happen, but other people essentially don't follow the rules of the road fully and this makes me incredibly upset and agitated, especially if I feel threatened by them, like if they merge into my lane across three lanes and then slow down to a crawl right in front of me. Or people who intentionally get into lanes that will go away so that they can then bully their way in amongst the people who had the good sense to just get in the right freaking lane in the first place really get under my skin--that sort of thing. Essentially I get anxious and annoyed at people for not following the (my) rules. YKWIA calms me down when he's in the car; A actually makes it worse, because he has some visual issues, and if a car turns suddenly into the lane next to me, he's practically in my lap. Anyway, the counselor, Larry Coy, agreed that I should work on these issues (and hopefully I explained things without sounding like a total lunatic). He definitely thought I could benefit from CBT. We're going to try to get back together in two weeks, after I get out of work. CBT involves homework, often. My homework this time is to get a book, a workbook, actually, aimed at hoarding. He had an older version. It's called Treatment for Hoarding Disorder: Workbook , 2nd ed., by Gail Steketee. it is almost $35, and not particularly thick--both the Anxiety and Phobia Workbook and the dialectical behaviour manual for borderline personality disorder (I have both of those.) He has the first edition; hopefully the new one is somewhat expanded. He's going to get the therapist manual that goes to my edition, which is almost $50. I gather that he doesn't have any other hoards at the moment because he hasn't updated to the new definition or anything.
Wow. I know it's almost 2 am, but I am falling asleep with my computer up on my legs, lying in bed. I had better go on to bed. I spent three hours after the therapist's appointment cooking soup (curried soybean), a main dish (a Basque dish with peppers, onions, and tomatoes in egg), nd a salad with smoked salmon, berries, oranges, and honey mustard dressing--all from scratch. He couldn't really help because he was still having some issues, so he just directed me and I actually cooked almost everything. But I'm very tired as a result. Good nigth.
Wednesday, September 14, 2016
Hmmm....
I listened to some music, took a nap, and then got up about 10 pm and cleaned off my loveseat (and by that, I mean pushed the stuff on it to another location, throwing away just a couple of things that were obviously trash), changed the light bulb in my lamp to a CFL with less flickering, and sat down and read the theory/assessment sections of two books I'd bought on my Kindle. The first was Buried in Treasures: Help for Compulsive Acquiring, Saving, and Hoarding, second edition, by David F. Tolin, Randy O. Frost, and Gail Steketee. The second was Overcoming Compulsive Hoarding: Why You Save and How You Can Stop by Fugen Neziroglu, Jerome Bubrick, and Jose A. Yaryura-Tobias. I stopped before reaching the practical parts of each; that I'll save for another day. But I did mentally fill out some checklists and examined a little of my motivations in hoarding, which according to the tests show currently that I have a moderate level of hoarding with some issues that are of particular concern. For example, it would be difficult for a rescue squad to get through my house to me; the only exit is partially blocked, and there's just so much stuff on the floor. I have dishes in unexpected places, and while nothing's mouldy (well, I did find a partial bread loaf that had, and threw it away), I have fruit flies again, much to my annoyance. I could easily fall, and have tripped several times of late. So yeah, it's serious, and I definitely need to seek help for it.
I'm hoping that this therapist, who specialises in anxiety, OCD, and hoarding behaviours using cognitive behaviour therapy (the only therapy that seems to really work with hoarding, from what I can tell), can help me navigate the problem. I know part of mine has to do with indecisiveness, perfectionism, attention issues, a certain amount of disorganisation (which is ironic, I suppose, as my entire profession is built on organising other people's things, mainly books), memory issues, and oh, yeah, the big E (emotions, both in terms of what I attach to objects other people would see as worthless, and the emotions I feel if someone has to come into my apartment for any reason, that sort of thing). Here's an example. Someone has put free objects out at work (pillows, books, whatever), and I decide to take one or more because [and there's a whole inner dialogue, trust me] of various reasons I propose. 'I don't think anyone else will want it, it's like the Island of Misfit Toys. I'll take it so it doesn't seem discarded.' (You can see I identify emotionally with my own feelings of worthlessness and unwantedness, emotions that are strongly entrenched in me from my childhood.) Or, 'This will be interesting to use/read sometime'--but I have lots of things I've never used at all, and lots of books I'll supposedly get to 'someday' (hoarding books is a real problem for me--which is bad in a librarian that has access to withdrawn texts--I once actually lost a group of library books from UK that I'd been using for my thesis in my house, because some of all my books, and incurred several hundred dollars fines, as there was no cap on fines there and it was 25 cents per day for each book, which as a graduate student I could have for three months. Turns out I'd boxed them up in preparation for a move and forgotten them. Obviously I'd stalled work on my thesis, too. Fortunately I found and returned them, but I paid on those fines for awhile before they forgave the bulk of them.) Or, 'I'm probably the only one here who understands/would like this', so it's fueled by a need to feel special. That sort of thing. Most people do not think this way at any point. I can (although I get overwhelmed sometimes and don't) recycle circulars or junk mail, if I can ignore potential coupons or offers, but bills cause a real problem. Sometimes I avoid them completely. Sometimes I save things I've already paid or don't need, often in boxes, or on the kitchen table. You see how this easily fills up the house.
But at least it's manageable at the moment. It's not in the severe category, or the worst I've ever had. I don't have animals at the moment, save four goldfish (who desperately need their tank filled, Java moss cleaned out, and algae cleaned out), so that's good. When I did it was sometimes much worse, as I had a dog that had issues with urine, a cat that had chronic diarrhea, and another cat that had a skin cancer issue that caused oozing. I found a home for a dog, Basil, and eventually put the cats (Darius and Buns) down--though not when I should have). My other dog was great, although she had a few accidents right before she died, and Spock never had any issues till he got into heart failure at the age of 17. But this is one reason why I have avoided getting a cat or dog in recent years. I'm just not at the point where I can, yet, until I can recover from this, and have a little more financial stability, for that matter.
I probably shouldn't be writing this, as someone who is admitting to mental illness who is also looking for a job, but it does help, so I guess if it means not being hired, so be it. But my hoarding has little impact at work, and I compartmentalise, I guess, because I keep my behaviour at work and home pretty separate. And maybe it can help someone else to read about things from 'the inside', I guess. I think the two books I mentioned before are very good. So many books out there that claim to help you reduce clutter are by professional organisers and do not really touch on the issues people who hoard face. Many 'pack rats' simply are not hoarders, and they really can't imagine the pain and embarrassment people who hoard feel every day. Even when my house is at its best, I feel incredibly anxious having people in it, including my best friend, who is like a brother. While many people who hoard really don't understand how bad their problem is (with most mental illnesses, there is a chance of anosognosia, where the person does not recognise they have a mental illness), I'm almost hyperaware, although in the past, I really ignored just how badly things had gotten. I've come a long way already, really. Now if I can just get that awareness to fuel change.
Okay, I'm going to head to bed. Good night.
I'm hoping that this therapist, who specialises in anxiety, OCD, and hoarding behaviours using cognitive behaviour therapy (the only therapy that seems to really work with hoarding, from what I can tell), can help me navigate the problem. I know part of mine has to do with indecisiveness, perfectionism, attention issues, a certain amount of disorganisation (which is ironic, I suppose, as my entire profession is built on organising other people's things, mainly books), memory issues, and oh, yeah, the big E (emotions, both in terms of what I attach to objects other people would see as worthless, and the emotions I feel if someone has to come into my apartment for any reason, that sort of thing). Here's an example. Someone has put free objects out at work (pillows, books, whatever), and I decide to take one or more because [and there's a whole inner dialogue, trust me] of various reasons I propose. 'I don't think anyone else will want it, it's like the Island of Misfit Toys. I'll take it so it doesn't seem discarded.' (You can see I identify emotionally with my own feelings of worthlessness and unwantedness, emotions that are strongly entrenched in me from my childhood.) Or, 'This will be interesting to use/read sometime'--but I have lots of things I've never used at all, and lots of books I'll supposedly get to 'someday' (hoarding books is a real problem for me--which is bad in a librarian that has access to withdrawn texts--I once actually lost a group of library books from UK that I'd been using for my thesis in my house, because some of all my books, and incurred several hundred dollars fines, as there was no cap on fines there and it was 25 cents per day for each book, which as a graduate student I could have for three months. Turns out I'd boxed them up in preparation for a move and forgotten them. Obviously I'd stalled work on my thesis, too. Fortunately I found and returned them, but I paid on those fines for awhile before they forgave the bulk of them.) Or, 'I'm probably the only one here who understands/would like this', so it's fueled by a need to feel special. That sort of thing. Most people do not think this way at any point. I can (although I get overwhelmed sometimes and don't) recycle circulars or junk mail, if I can ignore potential coupons or offers, but bills cause a real problem. Sometimes I avoid them completely. Sometimes I save things I've already paid or don't need, often in boxes, or on the kitchen table. You see how this easily fills up the house.
But at least it's manageable at the moment. It's not in the severe category, or the worst I've ever had. I don't have animals at the moment, save four goldfish (who desperately need their tank filled, Java moss cleaned out, and algae cleaned out), so that's good. When I did it was sometimes much worse, as I had a dog that had issues with urine, a cat that had chronic diarrhea, and another cat that had a skin cancer issue that caused oozing. I found a home for a dog, Basil, and eventually put the cats (Darius and Buns) down--though not when I should have). My other dog was great, although she had a few accidents right before she died, and Spock never had any issues till he got into heart failure at the age of 17. But this is one reason why I have avoided getting a cat or dog in recent years. I'm just not at the point where I can, yet, until I can recover from this, and have a little more financial stability, for that matter.
I probably shouldn't be writing this, as someone who is admitting to mental illness who is also looking for a job, but it does help, so I guess if it means not being hired, so be it. But my hoarding has little impact at work, and I compartmentalise, I guess, because I keep my behaviour at work and home pretty separate. And maybe it can help someone else to read about things from 'the inside', I guess. I think the two books I mentioned before are very good. So many books out there that claim to help you reduce clutter are by professional organisers and do not really touch on the issues people who hoard face. Many 'pack rats' simply are not hoarders, and they really can't imagine the pain and embarrassment people who hoard feel every day. Even when my house is at its best, I feel incredibly anxious having people in it, including my best friend, who is like a brother. While many people who hoard really don't understand how bad their problem is (with most mental illnesses, there is a chance of anosognosia, where the person does not recognise they have a mental illness), I'm almost hyperaware, although in the past, I really ignored just how badly things had gotten. I've come a long way already, really. Now if I can just get that awareness to fuel change.
Okay, I'm going to head to bed. Good night.
Another very productive day
This morning I went over to YKWIA's at 7 am (so I got up at 6) and got him up for his appointment this morning. I then took him to the appointment, dropped him off at home, and went to the office. Unfortunately, while I'd been at his house I'd gone through my morning routine--taking my oral meds, checking my blood sugar, taking my Byetta and insulin. That in itself is not bad, but I then totally forgot to eat the peanut butter and crackers I'd brought with me for breakfast. I realised it while I was at his appointment. By the time I got to work, I could tell I'd gone low on my blood sugar; it had been a nice 122 this morning when I'd tested it before I took my meds. Now it was 58. I ate something and started feeling better very quickly. I still can't believe I actually forgot to eat.
After that, I checked my e-mail and then tackled the bound journals. Over the course of the rest of the morning I rearranged and moved four shelving units (twenty-four shelves) of very heavy journals, some as old at 1919. I still need to move some of the Clinical Orthopaedics and Related Research unbound journals that were shelved with the bound ones (the journal changed its format from monthly hardbacks to larger paper journals a few years ago, which really messed with my OCD). Then I need to move the rest of the bound ones (about a eight shelves) over. That will give me some empty shelves between the books and journals to work with.
I looked up when I got to the point where I was too hot to go on without sitting in the front of the fan for a few minutes to find that it was almost lunch time. I had lunch with my normal lunch bunch, and one mentioned that there was a mobile hearing test station out front for the day that was offering free tests to kids and adults who came by. It's called Songs for Sound. Well, I took the test (you pressed a button on a monitor whenever you heard the tone). My right ear is better than my left, but I'm in the category of mild issues, which considering I'm nearly 50 isn't bad. I've never been around really loud noises regularly, and I've never really played my music very loudly, either. In fact, at work, if I'm listening while I do the data entry, I can usually hear the pages overhead still. Basically 30 decibels was normal. The tones I could hear in my left ear started at 45 decibels, and my right was 35. That's not bad, at all.
After that, I did my data entry, the referrals, the charge reconciliation, and responded to some requests for information or sheets. I called an insurance that we just got in-network with that we're getting a lot of patients from to clarify whether they needed a referral to see a specialist, because the summary of benefits said yes, it did, but I'd been told patient by patient that they didn't need one to see us. Thankfully, I found out that this particular plan does not require them for a specialist (we're an orthopaedic clinic and hospital). Yay (and there was much rejoicing). So those won't clutter up my queue anymore.
While I was on the phone with the insurance company, the therapist I've been trying to reach tried to call me. I left a message for him, and he called back, and we were finally able to make an appointment. Also, yay. It's a first step, anyway, to getting better with the anxiety and hoarding issues. It still amazes me that I can keep my desk at work and my car in nearly-pristine condition, but it's like I nest in my house and try to wall the world out with all the stuff. Hopefully he can help me find real solutions so I don't keep up this cycle.
Now I'm home. I was going to stay late at work to make up for this morning, but I'd finished everything I needed to do for the afternoon job, and I wasn't ready to tackle those last shelves yet. I'm on my gas light again. Fortunately, we get paid so tomorrow morning on the way to work I should be able to fill up, and I am going to try to go in a little early and then go get my allergy shot after work, since I missed their late day. Which, drat, I just realised is today, and they just closed this minute. I could have gotten it after all. :( I was a little focused on coming home and using as little gas as possible, though.
I've plugged the computer up in the living room to charge and I'm listening to music from my phone. I left today with the blinds closed, so I've opened them, and the sun is streaming through, though it is low in the sky. It's hard to believe that it'll be autumn soon. Yesterday I put new inserts into my Mary Janes (you blow dry them to heat them up, put them in your shoes, and then walk on them, and they conform to your feet), in preparation for the new season without sandals.
I finally started my period 4-5 days late. I have a gynaecology appointment the last week of this month, so hopefully I'll learn more about whether or not I'm truly in perimenopause or not, but I'm pretty sure I am.
Okay, I think I'm going to do some reading for a little while. I'll probably write later, but if not, good night.
After that, I checked my e-mail and then tackled the bound journals. Over the course of the rest of the morning I rearranged and moved four shelving units (twenty-four shelves) of very heavy journals, some as old at 1919. I still need to move some of the Clinical Orthopaedics and Related Research unbound journals that were shelved with the bound ones (the journal changed its format from monthly hardbacks to larger paper journals a few years ago, which really messed with my OCD). Then I need to move the rest of the bound ones (about a eight shelves) over. That will give me some empty shelves between the books and journals to work with.
I looked up when I got to the point where I was too hot to go on without sitting in the front of the fan for a few minutes to find that it was almost lunch time. I had lunch with my normal lunch bunch, and one mentioned that there was a mobile hearing test station out front for the day that was offering free tests to kids and adults who came by. It's called Songs for Sound. Well, I took the test (you pressed a button on a monitor whenever you heard the tone). My right ear is better than my left, but I'm in the category of mild issues, which considering I'm nearly 50 isn't bad. I've never been around really loud noises regularly, and I've never really played my music very loudly, either. In fact, at work, if I'm listening while I do the data entry, I can usually hear the pages overhead still. Basically 30 decibels was normal. The tones I could hear in my left ear started at 45 decibels, and my right was 35. That's not bad, at all.
After that, I did my data entry, the referrals, the charge reconciliation, and responded to some requests for information or sheets. I called an insurance that we just got in-network with that we're getting a lot of patients from to clarify whether they needed a referral to see a specialist, because the summary of benefits said yes, it did, but I'd been told patient by patient that they didn't need one to see us. Thankfully, I found out that this particular plan does not require them for a specialist (we're an orthopaedic clinic and hospital). Yay (and there was much rejoicing). So those won't clutter up my queue anymore.
While I was on the phone with the insurance company, the therapist I've been trying to reach tried to call me. I left a message for him, and he called back, and we were finally able to make an appointment. Also, yay. It's a first step, anyway, to getting better with the anxiety and hoarding issues. It still amazes me that I can keep my desk at work and my car in nearly-pristine condition, but it's like I nest in my house and try to wall the world out with all the stuff. Hopefully he can help me find real solutions so I don't keep up this cycle.
Now I'm home. I was going to stay late at work to make up for this morning, but I'd finished everything I needed to do for the afternoon job, and I wasn't ready to tackle those last shelves yet. I'm on my gas light again. Fortunately, we get paid so tomorrow morning on the way to work I should be able to fill up, and I am going to try to go in a little early and then go get my allergy shot after work, since I missed their late day. Which, drat, I just realised is today, and they just closed this minute. I could have gotten it after all. :( I was a little focused on coming home and using as little gas as possible, though.
I've plugged the computer up in the living room to charge and I'm listening to music from my phone. I left today with the blinds closed, so I've opened them, and the sun is streaming through, though it is low in the sky. It's hard to believe that it'll be autumn soon. Yesterday I put new inserts into my Mary Janes (you blow dry them to heat them up, put them in your shoes, and then walk on them, and they conform to your feet), in preparation for the new season without sandals.
I finally started my period 4-5 days late. I have a gynaecology appointment the last week of this month, so hopefully I'll learn more about whether or not I'm truly in perimenopause or not, but I'm pretty sure I am.
Okay, I think I'm going to do some reading for a little while. I'll probably write later, but if not, good night.
Friday, September 09, 2016
Oh, and
I called and left a message with the therapist's answering service today. Hopefully I'll hear something Monday and will be able to make an appointment. :)
Thursday, September 08, 2016
Five hours later, and I'm just getting back home
The house, and all the anxiety it produces, will have to wait. I just got in. I have cleaned the litter there, taken out the trash and receptacles, helped cook, and cleaned up. Oh, and I went to the store because an ingredient was missing. I am now pooped. But we had a good time, and I lingered as a result, so I was avoiding the house, too. We sang 'Cows with Guns' and such. I don't think everyone would get the humour in that song at all.
Okay, I'm going to eat a little ice cream, cool off, and get ready for bed. Tomorrow, as they say, is another day (which is already planned out, as is Saturday.) Sigh.
Okay, I'm going to eat a little ice cream, cool off, and get ready for bed. Tomorrow, as they say, is another day (which is already planned out, as is Saturday.) Sigh.
Breathe
So I've hit a snag already. I watered the plants with no problem. I came up against a wall of anxiety looking at the house, though. I feel overwhelmed. YKWIA just called and I'm going over there briefly, which is just as well, although he said he wouldn't keep me long. Maybe I should read some more about hoarding rather than jumping into this tonight. I don't know. I did take my anti-anxiety medicine (it was time), so maybe that will kick in and when I get back, it'll be better. But for right now, I think the best thing I can do is breathe in and out and work at keeping the anxiety from growing from the small panic it is to a greater one. I know that if I can start getting rid of things or putting things into place, it will get better, but it usually gets worse before it gets better.
I am uncharacteristically
home and ready to tackle a few things. I'm going to keep it pretty simple; I need to do the following--
You probably figured it out, a long time ago, that I am a hoarder. I go through bouts when things are in place and neat, but inevitably they slide back into disarray. And it's not just messiness; I have trouble letting go of things that 'might be useful', I 'might read', and there's the need to acquire things, not so much by going out for retail therapy; it's often taking home things I feel are unwanted by others. Yeah, there's no emotional red flag on that, is there?
Anyway, lately things have been bad again, enough that I can't have my friends over (although when things are clean, I'm still anxious about having people in my house). And it's driving me crazy, because for all my clutter, I prefer things to be in their place. At work, my desk is almost always neat and nearly spotless. I hoard at work, true, but it's all in closets or the attic, for the most part, something I'm going to have to let go in the coming months, although it's not nearly as bad as the house. People say their houses are a wreck; I have a lot of stuff crammed into 750 square foot of space, and it comes to at least twelve full-size bookshelves plus an entertainment centre just for the books alone--and acquiring the 'newer' collapsable shelves actually helped. Before that, things were piled everywhere. But my clothes, clean and dirty, are in piles on the bedroom floor; there's stuff on the loveseat, on the dining room table, etc. It's time to tackle things again.
But I need help. I can clean, I can conquer the overwhelmed feeling I have right now, after the tipping balance is reached and I let things slide, but no matter how decent I get everything it's going to stay like that for a few months at the most and start over again. YKWIA and I were talking the other day and he said that in the time he'd known me (29 years or so), it had always had the same pattern. If I want to really do something about my life--and the house is really just a symptom--I need to break the pattern. I'm reading some books on treating hoarding, doing some research, and I also checked out therapists in the area. There is one person who does handle obsessive-compulsive spectrum disorders, including hoarding, and while he is a social worker (I haven't had a lot of luck with them, as they usually just do talk therapy, which is nearly useless for me), he does cognitive behaviour therapy, which is the only real thing that's particularly effective so far in hoarding therapy. I haven't done CBT, but I have done dialectical behaviour therapy, which is a subset of it, and it was much better for me. I need the 'homework', the practical work. He's also got over 30 years of experience and has undergone special training in dealing with anxiety disorders. His office is near my house, and he takes my insurance. I'm going to call tomorrow to see if I can get in. In the meantime, tonight I'm going to try to get things a little more livable in those two rooms. I'm tired of camping out on my bed (I've done all my computer stuff of late there, which isn't great for my back, and have been sleeping with the laptop and my book bag, and books, in the bed.)
Okay, it's time to get started. I have my wireless headphones on with peppy music playing, so I can go from room to room with no trouble. Wish me luck.
- Water the plants inside and out.
- Work on the living room.
- Work on the kitchen.
You probably figured it out, a long time ago, that I am a hoarder. I go through bouts when things are in place and neat, but inevitably they slide back into disarray. And it's not just messiness; I have trouble letting go of things that 'might be useful', I 'might read', and there's the need to acquire things, not so much by going out for retail therapy; it's often taking home things I feel are unwanted by others. Yeah, there's no emotional red flag on that, is there?
Anyway, lately things have been bad again, enough that I can't have my friends over (although when things are clean, I'm still anxious about having people in my house). And it's driving me crazy, because for all my clutter, I prefer things to be in their place. At work, my desk is almost always neat and nearly spotless. I hoard at work, true, but it's all in closets or the attic, for the most part, something I'm going to have to let go in the coming months, although it's not nearly as bad as the house. People say their houses are a wreck; I have a lot of stuff crammed into 750 square foot of space, and it comes to at least twelve full-size bookshelves plus an entertainment centre just for the books alone--and acquiring the 'newer' collapsable shelves actually helped. Before that, things were piled everywhere. But my clothes, clean and dirty, are in piles on the bedroom floor; there's stuff on the loveseat, on the dining room table, etc. It's time to tackle things again.
But I need help. I can clean, I can conquer the overwhelmed feeling I have right now, after the tipping balance is reached and I let things slide, but no matter how decent I get everything it's going to stay like that for a few months at the most and start over again. YKWIA and I were talking the other day and he said that in the time he'd known me (29 years or so), it had always had the same pattern. If I want to really do something about my life--and the house is really just a symptom--I need to break the pattern. I'm reading some books on treating hoarding, doing some research, and I also checked out therapists in the area. There is one person who does handle obsessive-compulsive spectrum disorders, including hoarding, and while he is a social worker (I haven't had a lot of luck with them, as they usually just do talk therapy, which is nearly useless for me), he does cognitive behaviour therapy, which is the only real thing that's particularly effective so far in hoarding therapy. I haven't done CBT, but I have done dialectical behaviour therapy, which is a subset of it, and it was much better for me. I need the 'homework', the practical work. He's also got over 30 years of experience and has undergone special training in dealing with anxiety disorders. His office is near my house, and he takes my insurance. I'm going to call tomorrow to see if I can get in. In the meantime, tonight I'm going to try to get things a little more livable in those two rooms. I'm tired of camping out on my bed (I've done all my computer stuff of late there, which isn't great for my back, and have been sleeping with the laptop and my book bag, and books, in the bed.)
Okay, it's time to get started. I have my wireless headphones on with peppy music playing, so I can go from room to room with no trouble. Wish me luck.
Friday, July 05, 2013
An article on how clutter happens, what it does to us, and how to let it go
How Clutter Affects Your Brain (and What You Can Do About It)
Thanks to Alexandra Bond for sharing this on Facebook. I like how it talks about digital clutter as well as the physical type, such as cluttered PC desktops or multiple notifications when you get e-mails or texts. Each thing is one more thing your mind has to deal with, and then either let go or hoard. No wonder I am so scattered all the time. A friend of mine has long described my brain (and he was being honest, not putting me down) as organised the same way I do my closet, in shifting piles that have no real categorisation or boundaries. He's right. Yet, I can organise other people's stuff. As a librarian, that's pretty much what I do all day. The difference? I have no emotional attachment to other people's things. But for me, a broken piece of my great-grandmother's china, a six-month old unopened bill, a favourite top (even stained), sometimes simple recyclables--all become difficulties to face. Before they put in recycling containers in our apartment complex, I hoarded lots of stuff that was recyclable with the idea that I would take it somewhere to be recycled, even when I didn't have a car or any way of getting them there. I tend to even hoard e-mail and e-books.
I also do a pretty decent job of keeping my desk at work straightened and organised. Even if my journals haven't been shelved, they're at least in a pile in an out of way spot. I have a hard time working with clutter. But I do admit, I sometimes hoard books that should have been weeded ages ago, and indeed, have been from the general collection but not actually from storage. I'll have to deal with that eventually, as the library is not going to the new building (nor am I, unfortunately, although I have a bit of time before that happens), and I'll have to oversee its release into the wild, as it were, either by finding new homes for old books and journals or recycling them.
And of course, one of the occupational hazards of being a librarian is that you tend to collect and buy books. I have lots of books. I'm not even sure how many. I have two new ones sitting on my desk at work that were delivered today, Gary Corby's Sacred Games, a mystery set in ancient Greece, and a collection of several Pippi Longstocking tales. I should probably stop getting books, but I don't foresee that happening. And like I said, I get them on the Kindle, too, mostly free ones, but some I've bought, and I probably have more than I can read reasonably. Bibliophilic hoarding is a special subcategory, I suppose. But at least it's better than hoarding animals. My books aren't going to get me in trouble with the law, are enlightening when read, and are generally well-cared for. :) I have come to the conclusion that at some point I will have to actually weed them and take those to the library for the Friends of the Lexington Public Library to sell or do with as they please. That day is coming, but not tonight. Anyway, it's an interesting article. Check it out.
A few years ago, I worked at a web design agency as a product manager. The part of the job I loved the most was working on product with our design team and clients. Unfortunately, this was only about 10 percent of the work that I actually got to do. The majority of the time, I was trying to control the constant flow of stuff–keeping track of meeting notes, searching for files, and trying to stay up-to-date with the latest technology news.
I was mentally exhausted. I’d get home feeling that I hadn’t really accomplished anything.
Thanks to Alexandra Bond for sharing this on Facebook. I like how it talks about digital clutter as well as the physical type, such as cluttered PC desktops or multiple notifications when you get e-mails or texts. Each thing is one more thing your mind has to deal with, and then either let go or hoard. No wonder I am so scattered all the time. A friend of mine has long described my brain (and he was being honest, not putting me down) as organised the same way I do my closet, in shifting piles that have no real categorisation or boundaries. He's right. Yet, I can organise other people's stuff. As a librarian, that's pretty much what I do all day. The difference? I have no emotional attachment to other people's things. But for me, a broken piece of my great-grandmother's china, a six-month old unopened bill, a favourite top (even stained), sometimes simple recyclables--all become difficulties to face. Before they put in recycling containers in our apartment complex, I hoarded lots of stuff that was recyclable with the idea that I would take it somewhere to be recycled, even when I didn't have a car or any way of getting them there. I tend to even hoard e-mail and e-books.
I also do a pretty decent job of keeping my desk at work straightened and organised. Even if my journals haven't been shelved, they're at least in a pile in an out of way spot. I have a hard time working with clutter. But I do admit, I sometimes hoard books that should have been weeded ages ago, and indeed, have been from the general collection but not actually from storage. I'll have to deal with that eventually, as the library is not going to the new building (nor am I, unfortunately, although I have a bit of time before that happens), and I'll have to oversee its release into the wild, as it were, either by finding new homes for old books and journals or recycling them.
And of course, one of the occupational hazards of being a librarian is that you tend to collect and buy books. I have lots of books. I'm not even sure how many. I have two new ones sitting on my desk at work that were delivered today, Gary Corby's Sacred Games, a mystery set in ancient Greece, and a collection of several Pippi Longstocking tales. I should probably stop getting books, but I don't foresee that happening. And like I said, I get them on the Kindle, too, mostly free ones, but some I've bought, and I probably have more than I can read reasonably. Bibliophilic hoarding is a special subcategory, I suppose. But at least it's better than hoarding animals. My books aren't going to get me in trouble with the law, are enlightening when read, and are generally well-cared for. :) I have come to the conclusion that at some point I will have to actually weed them and take those to the library for the Friends of the Lexington Public Library to sell or do with as they please. That day is coming, but not tonight. Anyway, it's an interesting article. Check it out.
Friday, April 26, 2013
Oh, to celebrate the de-hoarding, I'll share something YKWIA told me about
No, my house isn't THAT bad. But it has been before. I really do have to be careful, and it's very hard for me to get rid of things. But I do have to work on it.
Monday, August 06, 2012
Interesting
Hoarders' Brains Overwhelmed by Decisions: Imaging Study Points to Disorder Distinct From Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder
Even more interesting...
Two brain regions go on high alert when hoarders must decide whether to keep something they own or throw it away.
In a new study in Archives of General Psychiatry, brain images of those regions show that hoarders respond quite differently when making such decisions than people with obsessive compulsive disorder and people without any mental disorder.
"That brain network goes into hyperdrive, starts freaking out," says researcher David Tolin, PhD, a psychologist at the Institute of Living in Hartford, Conn. "The task seems to overload the network."
When it comes to their own possessions, says Tolin, the decision-making process for hoarders becomes very difficult, even painful, so they avoid it. And so, stuff keeps piling up.
"It's very common, and it can be very sad," he says
Even more interesting...
The brains of the hoarders showed little response when confronted with Tolin's credit card offers, Netflix coupons, and other junk. Asked about their own, similar belongings, the hoarders' brains -- specifically the anterior cingulate cortex and the insula -- both showed abnormal activity.
"The only real difference between the stuff was the name on the address label," says Tolin. "And the affected brain regions really flip flopped on the basis of ownership."
Tolin says those regions are known to play a big role in assigning importance and relevance to objects. For someone with arachnophobia, for example, seeing a spider would activate those areas in a big way. Hoarders have the same type of brain reaction, the study shows. Their brains assign undue importance and relevance to things that most people would consider junk.
Monday, July 04, 2011
Dear Gods
I have 56 tote bags (45 of them assorted Kroger reusable bags), 1 gym bag, 1 satchel, 1 backpack, 8 purses, and a closetful of bags now. Just pretty much--bags. Anyone need some Kroger bags? Anyone?
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
They have no idea what they've done
Sandy Springs hoarder's home clean; woman still ill
I know that families think they are helping when they hire some group to come in and clean a hoarded home out, but especially if it's something dictated to or without the real involvement of the person, it's likely to do emotional distress (and I don't mean minor distress) to have had all their stuff gone. Hoarders place emotional value on things other people see as trash. By removing those articles without regard for those emotional ties, it could have a disastrous effect. I've heard of people in court-ordered cleanups throwing themselves into the dumpster as the stuff is carted away. Plus, her struggle with hoarding was exposed to the media, and I have to wonder if her consent to do so was given. It's one thing to hoard. It's another to have total strangers know. I have a real concern for this woman and I hope the family has also pursued mental health care for her. But in my mind, her right to privacy was violated in the pursuit of public fascination for hoarding.
PS I'm not saying they shouldn't have done anything, mind you. Her place was obviously across a line for safety and security. But it rather sounds like they whisked her away so they could get down to business. I may be wrong in that. If so, I apologise for jumping to a conclusion. But decluttering only works, in my opinion, if it's either by the hand of the hoarder or with the hoarder as a participant; otherwise in a few months it could be just the same again.
Hoarders have been good for business, Powell said, expanding his company's niche beyond crime scene clean-ups and graffiti removal. "We handled seven hoarders last month," he said, noting that the increase in such jobs has coincided with the popularity of two reality shows, on A&E and TLC, dedicated to pack rats. "The more those shows are on, the more calls we get."Well, isn't that nice, that someone's mental illness is so popular as to be a meal ticket for someone else? Okay, I know, I'm biased, but still...
I know that families think they are helping when they hire some group to come in and clean a hoarded home out, but especially if it's something dictated to or without the real involvement of the person, it's likely to do emotional distress (and I don't mean minor distress) to have had all their stuff gone. Hoarders place emotional value on things other people see as trash. By removing those articles without regard for those emotional ties, it could have a disastrous effect. I've heard of people in court-ordered cleanups throwing themselves into the dumpster as the stuff is carted away. Plus, her struggle with hoarding was exposed to the media, and I have to wonder if her consent to do so was given. It's one thing to hoard. It's another to have total strangers know. I have a real concern for this woman and I hope the family has also pursued mental health care for her. But in my mind, her right to privacy was violated in the pursuit of public fascination for hoarding.
PS I'm not saying they shouldn't have done anything, mind you. Her place was obviously across a line for safety and security. But it rather sounds like they whisked her away so they could get down to business. I may be wrong in that. If so, I apologise for jumping to a conclusion. But decluttering only works, in my opinion, if it's either by the hand of the hoarder or with the hoarder as a participant; otherwise in a few months it could be just the same again.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
The weight of things
Two hold requests I just put in for the library, thanks to this weekend's 'Unshelved' book recommendation:
I don't mention my hoarding much. One, I'm embarrassed by it, although it's much better than it used to be; medication helps. Two, it makes it sound like my life is totally fallen apart; oddly enough, that isn't the case. I'm quite functional in my professional life and emotionally I'm probably at the healthiest I've ever been in my life. But this is still a struggle for me, because it is so overwhelming to deal with once things get to a certain stage. After a purge, I can usually keep things on track for about a year or so, unless I have something like a physical illness come up or a particularly difficult schedule where I'm just dropping things on the sofa and heading to bed at night.
I'm hoping with the new job hours, I can devote a few hours a week to excavating and either getting rid of non-usable stuff or putting things I'd really like to keep in order. I'll be getting home 2-3 hours earlier a day, so that should help.
The funny thing is I rather like cleaning. It puts me in a good mood to put things in order at work or at my friends' house. It's only my own things that have emotional weight to them, where I feel bad if I throw out recyclables even though I don't have the means to do so (no car to take them across town, no recycling bins at the apartment complex), so I let them build up. That's an example.
I have had a friend who has watched my struggles with this over the last couple of decades. I remember he was flabbergasted by the fact that I was hanging onto pottery shards of dishes that belonged to my great-grandmother, and he finally got me to throw them out. In my mind, I had to keep a hold onto stuff to keep a hold on to her. It's like I couldn't remember her without something tangible there. I know that makes no real sense, but that's how I felt. On the other hand, when I was evicted years ago, I suddenly decided to leave my record collection behind (I had no turntable), including hard-to-replace albums, although he urged me to keep them, and I regret that decision often. It's like I had to do what would punish me the most, because I was a failure for not being able to keep the apartment after being laid off. I wasn't in a good emotional place then at all, understandably. I lost something precious and sentimental by anyone's standards--my grandmother's wedding ring--because I couldn't afford to get it back out of pawn. It's something I can never replace and although I myself would probably have never used it, it was a legacy. Just the thought of its loss makes me cry, and it did so a bit ago when I finally talked about it with some people who didn't really know me all that well, people I eat lunch with. Even though it happened six years ago, the pain was still very much there; I'd never dealt with it, never told a counselor, never told a soul how I felt other than my best friend.
Funny that it came up at just the same time I found out I had a chance to become more financially secure with the potential new job. The thing is, though, no matter how stable or good my finances are, I can't undo what was lost. What I can do, however, is use the opportunity to evaluate what is important to hang onto and what isn't. So wish me luck in my attempt to put a little more order to my life.
Stuff : compulsive hoarding and the meaning of things / Randy O. Frost and Gail Steketee.It's not idle curiosity. I have struggled with hoarding for years, going through periods of relative calm and cleanliness only after purges when things got so bad that I just had pathways. I hate having this. I know in my case it is 1) an expression of my obsessive compulsive disorder and 2) is my way of limiting contact with others and the emotional fallout of that in a controllable way, something I think I'm finally starting to outgrow a need for. On a scale of 1 (worst) to 10 (best) I'd put my house at about a 4 right now, not good enough for company but not severe.
Buried in treasures : help for compulsive acquiring, saving, and hoarding / David F. Tolin, Randy O. Frost, Gail Steketee.
I don't mention my hoarding much. One, I'm embarrassed by it, although it's much better than it used to be; medication helps. Two, it makes it sound like my life is totally fallen apart; oddly enough, that isn't the case. I'm quite functional in my professional life and emotionally I'm probably at the healthiest I've ever been in my life. But this is still a struggle for me, because it is so overwhelming to deal with once things get to a certain stage. After a purge, I can usually keep things on track for about a year or so, unless I have something like a physical illness come up or a particularly difficult schedule where I'm just dropping things on the sofa and heading to bed at night.
I'm hoping with the new job hours, I can devote a few hours a week to excavating and either getting rid of non-usable stuff or putting things I'd really like to keep in order. I'll be getting home 2-3 hours earlier a day, so that should help.
The funny thing is I rather like cleaning. It puts me in a good mood to put things in order at work or at my friends' house. It's only my own things that have emotional weight to them, where I feel bad if I throw out recyclables even though I don't have the means to do so (no car to take them across town, no recycling bins at the apartment complex), so I let them build up. That's an example.
I have had a friend who has watched my struggles with this over the last couple of decades. I remember he was flabbergasted by the fact that I was hanging onto pottery shards of dishes that belonged to my great-grandmother, and he finally got me to throw them out. In my mind, I had to keep a hold onto stuff to keep a hold on to her. It's like I couldn't remember her without something tangible there. I know that makes no real sense, but that's how I felt. On the other hand, when I was evicted years ago, I suddenly decided to leave my record collection behind (I had no turntable), including hard-to-replace albums, although he urged me to keep them, and I regret that decision often. It's like I had to do what would punish me the most, because I was a failure for not being able to keep the apartment after being laid off. I wasn't in a good emotional place then at all, understandably. I lost something precious and sentimental by anyone's standards--my grandmother's wedding ring--because I couldn't afford to get it back out of pawn. It's something I can never replace and although I myself would probably have never used it, it was a legacy. Just the thought of its loss makes me cry, and it did so a bit ago when I finally talked about it with some people who didn't really know me all that well, people I eat lunch with. Even though it happened six years ago, the pain was still very much there; I'd never dealt with it, never told a counselor, never told a soul how I felt other than my best friend.
Funny that it came up at just the same time I found out I had a chance to become more financially secure with the potential new job. The thing is, though, no matter how stable or good my finances are, I can't undo what was lost. What I can do, however, is use the opportunity to evaluate what is important to hang onto and what isn't. So wish me luck in my attempt to put a little more order to my life.
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