Shortly after I wrote my post Clearing Clutter on 6/2, I received a comment from my friend Jo Maeder, who doesn’t believe I have issues with clutter. Compared to the home of her mother, who was a hoarder, Jo says my home is the picture of neatness. Jo wrote a memoir called When I Married My Mother: A Daughter’s Search for What Really Matters and How She Found It Caring for Mama Jo (Da Capo Press), which chronicles her experience of caring for her mother through the final years of her life, including the episode of clearing out years of her mother’s clutter. Since Jo is now versed on the subject of hoarding with a success story to tell, I asked her if she would share some highlights of her experience. Here’s what she had to say:
Jean: Did you learn anything about the psychology of hoarders? Is there a common thread in their experience that causes them to hoard?
Jo: For years I heard about the “Depression-era” theory, which holds that hoarders grew up during that time and can’t throw out anything because it has a possible use or value. My mother, who was born in 1921, told me her family saved every scrap of foil and molded them into a ball. When it was as big as a fist they could sell it for a buck. But why do people save a gum wrapper or used toothpick today? We now know that people of all ages, races, socio-economic backgrounds hoard. Often they had a parent who was one. Maybe indirectly it goes back to another time when “waste not, want not” prevailed.
The hoarding person may also have suffered a lot of loss in his or her life. My mother had and I think she saw her stuff as a form of companionship that would never leave her or hurt her. She was its protector. I’ve also heard hoarders describe their possessions as their “twin.” Their stuff defines who they are. To throw something out means erasing one’s own existence.
I’m convinced that the longer someone stays in a particular residence the more likely they are to burrow into it and pile up stuff. If you’ve ever seen a mouse’s nest you’ll understand the term “pack rat.” It’s a form of protection and marking of territory. When I finally ended up living with my mother (thankfully in a new home with no clutter), I did the math and realized my mother, on average, had moved once every twelve years. She had accumulated her stuff, her late husband’s stuff, her mother’s stuff, and her uncle’s stuff. It took me, my brother, and three helpers six weeks, ten dumpsters, and lots of Advil to clear out her house.
In an act of divine intervention we were able to get her into assisted living while we did this. A social worker warned me my mother would become extremely angry when moved to a clean place. “Hoarders just want their stuff back,” she warned. “Very little can help them. Drugs and therapy don’t seem to work.” Fortunately, this didn’t happen with my mother. She was thrilled to be in a new place and with me. “I feel like a bird let out of a cage,” she said. We were able to forge a wonderful relationship. The barriers were down, literally and figuratively. I also think, sadly, it was because we both knew she didn’t have much longer to live. Had we tried to do this earlier I don’t think we would have met with the same success, but who knows? I often regret not trying sooner.
Jean: What kind of impact does a hoarder’s problems have on family members?
Jo: When my mother’s house became a dungeon of junk I could no longer stay with her when I visited. There was no place to even sit comfortably. So it’s no surprise that I didn’t visit often. As she slipped into senile dementia, she vented her fear and anger on my brother, which is common in these cases. When she couldn’t find something, which was often, she accused him of stealing it. So now there was an even deeper conflict making it all the harder to deal with. I really didn’t think there would ever be a happy ending to this mess, but I’m glad to say, when the dust cleared, we all became extremely close and she loved my brother very much. There’s nothing like a crisis to bring people together!
The key for a hoarder, just like someone who has a drug or drinking problem, is that they have to want to change. And the people around them have to want it as well. Often we get so used to someone being the way they are, especially family members, we just live with it, like water flowing around a rock. By removing the rock, you create a different dynamic that may require even more of your participation. It’s your classic fear of the unknown.
Jean: What recommendations do you have for someone who is a hoarder or dealing with one?
Jo: I’ve gotten rid of a lot by taking a photo of it and then “releasing” it to Goodwill or selling it. If I miss it, I can look at the picture. Another tactic is to ask myself: “Would I buy this today?” If not, it goes. I got the releasing POV from a therapist I know who specializes in helping those with weight issues. She tells her patients: “Don’t try to lose weight. Release it. When you lose something you want to find it again.” I also say: “I’m finding it a new home where it will be more appreciated.” I’m doing us both a favor.
If you’re dealing with a hoarder be very respectful. Don’t get angry or parental. Very hard to do because common sense simply doesn’t work. Try to be gentle but firm and make the person feel loved and safe. There’s a subconscious fear that if you’ll throw their stuff out you’ll throw them out, too. When this issue came up with my mother in our new place I put everything she wanted to keep into a bag and placed it in her closet. It was out of sight but still there. It made us both happy.
To contact Jo or share your own thoughts with her on hoarding, visit her Facebook page.
