Compulsive hoarding is a mental disorder that is just beginning to be understood. As a hoarder, I have acquired things over the years with a specific purpose in mind at the time of the acquisition, used some of those items for their intended purposes, forgotten the goal for different objects, but now that I find that they have outlived their purpose in my life I am struggling to rid myself of those same things.

You can read the start of my journey here.

Tuesday, December 5, 2017

Stick a Fork In Me. I'm Done.

The last year has been difficult.

I've had to let the friendship of the 'dear friend' I wrote about the last time I was on my blog go by the wayside. I knew I had done something that bothered her, but she would never give me the courtesy of explaining what it was. Instead, she would 'punish' me by ignoring me when I would do something that bothered her, she would be passive aggressive, and just refused to communicate. It was exhausting and stressful. 

At first, it absolutely crushed me. It crushed my spirit. I was not suicidal, because I refuse to go down that path. I know what it does to family members and friends when someone chooses to end their life, and it will never be an option for me no matter how bad things are going. And since I've been there on the brink when I was in highschool and actually attempted suicide, I know when I start to go down that path, and I can avoid it. In spite of the fact that suicide was not an option, this past year has been a very dark year for me.

She works with the girls at the day program they attend. In order for them to receive the funding they get, we have to have a staffing with the day program and the social service organization that controls the funding. I would be asked what was working or wasn't working with the girls, and I would stupidly gush about all the wonderful things that happened when she was with them. She apparently got in trouble for it at work, but she wouldn't tell me what it was that I said that was the issue.

She didn't want her name brought up with anything to do with the girls, because she said it wasn't fair to her to get in trouble, if I mentioned her name. But that makes no sense at all. Me mentioning something that she had done shouldn't have gotten her in trouble. Then it dawned on me recently that she got in trouble for it, because it was something she wasn't supposed to do. It wasn't me. It was her,

But it took her refusing to meet to discuss things like adults after I'd repeatedly asked for a meeting. And while I believe they were worthy causes, she'd contact me out of the blue asking me, if I wanted to donate to a fundraiser or something. I did. I know. It was stupid. I wanted the friendship so much that I supported whatever it was that came my way. It didn't happen often-only every few months, but then she'd get mad at me again, and she would withhold her friendship. 

Did I mention it was exhausting?

The last time, she contacted me while she was at work and asked, if I wanted to buy one of the fundraising cards that the high school was selling. I said sure, and I sent a note in with the cash pay for it. Yep. In the communication notebook, I wrote what the money I was sending in was for, because I wanted a record that it had been sent in. If it was lost, I would have ended up spending twice the amount, and that was what was on my mind when I wrote the note. It wasn't that I wasn't trying to maintain boundaries. That was the last thing on my mind when I wrote the note. I just didn't want something to happen to the money.

Of course, it was followed by the silent treatment. Punished. Again. She was trying to hold me to a standard that she wasn't holding herself to and then punishing me when I failed to realize it. 

Several months earlier, she said that I liked getting information from people to use it against them when the time was right. I'm not like that. At least I certainly never set out to be that way. I don't intentionally hurt others. I've hurt others and not had a clue as to how I did, but I haven't set out to intentionally hurt anyone. But she did. She got to the point where she would not tell me what had happened during the day when she was with one of the girls. She would purposely not write in the communication notebooks, and then would only respond, 'good' when I would ask how things went during the day. 

I know she was trying to hurt me, but she wasn't. She was hurting the girls. The last time she did it, I wrote her a very professional note and explained exactly why we needed the communication notebook and sent it in a message to her. Her response? 'Ok. Thanks'. That was it. 

In the meantime, we had another staffing for one of the girls. Her name came up. I found out weeks after the meeting that she blocked me from the messaging app. It's always about punishment for her. For us, it's about what has worked for the girls, and it has never been about intentionally hurting anyone. Ever.

Thankfully, my eyes have been opened, and the last few things she pulled didn't hurt at all. I realized months ago that I don't want to be friends with someone who is intentionally punitive to someone instead of being an adult and actually talking things out. 

I take responsibility for my part in things. I did fall into gossip with her about some things that were happening at the day program, but I also never would have known about any of them, if she hadn't brought them up. (Not excusing my behavior, but hopefully, she will realize she was to blame as well). And I don't know that I have Austism or that I'm codependent. I might be. But I will be returning to counseling, so I can figure it all out. 

As much as I didn't understand before now why outside friendships shouldn't happen between medical staff/patients or teachers/care providers/those that care for your children and a parent, I get it now. She used her position to manipulate me into things I wouldn't normally have done. (We have gotten those stupid fundraising cards 3 years in a row and never used them once). I won't let it happen again. I've learned my lesson.

I honestly do wish her the best. But I'm done.

Monday, May 1, 2017

Love hurts.

Tonight a dear friend of mine got irritated with me after I replied to something she said. She took me completely aback when she said "I was in a weird codependent mood again".

I went through a wide range of emotions rather quickly.

I was confused, hurt, irritated, and did I mention I was confused? She said I'd made a conversation we were having about me. I didn't think I had, and I still don't exactly see it, but I'm actually glad she said something to me.

It definitely made me think. After I cried, of course. (Did I mention they up and fell off?)

I looked up codependency. Everything I knew of it pertained someone interacting with a loved one who was addicted to drugs or alcohol. So I was surprised when I saw the definition had changed, and I saw myself in so many of the symptoms on the checklist.

I'm thinking that this fits the bill so much better than an autism diagnosis.

As much as it hurt to hear, I'm thankful my friend pointed it out to me. It makes sense. And I'll be calling this week to get things scheduled with a counselor of some sort. I'm actually looking forward to it.

I don't want to live like this anymore. It's exhausting.

Sunday, April 30, 2017


Up until a few years ago, when someone hurt my feelings, I'd get mad. When I'd screw something up, I'd get angry. I was just angry all the time. It didn't help that I have such a severe case of resting bitch face there is, because I also looked angry even when I wasn't. And I hated it when people would ask me, if I was mad. It irritated the crap out of me!

But my sister, who was always so much softer than I was, told me a few years ago that she always admired that about me. She worked in a very high stress job where showing emotions were detrimental. She said she'd have given just about anything to have the personality that I have, because it would make her life so much easier. It would be easier to be taken seriously, if she wasn't crying every time she got mad or frustrated. 

Several years later, she had relief in the form of a hysterectomy. She said she felt like she grew "a great big pair" the moment she woke up from surgery. She no longer cried at the drop of a hat, and she was able to be taken seriously by everyone. 

Fast forward to today.

I think mine shriveled up and fell off. 

There are days I can hardly make it through the day without just being weepy all day long. It's SO not like me. I'm thinking it has a lot to do with the lack of hormones that come with menopause. I feel weak and incapable, and I hate it! If something happens first thing in the morning that sets me off, it's hard to shake it for the rest of the day. I feel completely incapable of making a decision. In fact, I wrote the last post about 3 weeks ago and just barely published it last night.

It pisses me off!

Which makes me cry. 


Saturday, April 29, 2017

What's wrong with me?

For the past couple of years, but especially the last several months, I've wondered, if I'm on the Autism spectrum. Back when I was a kid, I struggled with friendships. It seemed like I always did something wrong to push people away, but I never quite understood what happened that made the friendship die. It was just...over. But it wasn't just when I was a kid. I've been like this my entire life.

And while I can easily put myself in others' shoes and even physically feel what they are feeling, I struggle with figuring it out in someone's writing unless they actually spell it out. Which makes other parts of my life make a bit more sense. Like that fact that I love deep contrasts in color like black and white. Like the fact that I love absolutes. Like the fact that I've always loved rules. Like the fact that I've always loved math, because there's either a right answer or a wrong answer. Period. 

I like clarity. I need it, like I need air to breathe. 

And when I communicate, whether it is through writing or talking, I use more words than most to get my meaning across. I want to know that I'm understood, and I want desperately to understand others. So when others use passive aggressive ways to communicate it confuses me. I understand that they're irritated with me, and that I've done something wrong, but I have no clue as to what it is unless they've said it directly.

I think that it's me. And then I loathe who I am. And I have a really hard time figuring out how to fix things.

What's wrong with me?

Sunday, January 22, 2017

Feeling Human...ish

It appears the steroids I'm taking are finally getting a good grip on things. I'm feeling closer to normal than I have in several weeks. I'm hoping this means I'll be able to start accomplishing something, since I've barely been able to do the basics the last few weeks. The house is a disaster, but it's been worse. 

Much worse. 

I'm going to work on getting the Christmas tree down today. It's times like this I'm thankful we didn't put much up this year. It will make it a breeze to put away. I'm sad though. One of the branches on our artificial tree broke sometime between us putting it away last year and putting it up this year. We're going to have to look for a new one next year, since we didn't get a chance to this year. We'll keep this around until it's time to put the tree up next year just in case we don't get around to buying a new one, but it will be out the door the moment we have a replacement. 

Once I get the Christmas decorations put away, I'll work on general cleaning in the house. It won't be much, but it is all I'm capable of at this point. That's okay. I refuse to stress over things. Stressing over things is what got me into this mess in the first place. 

And in the famous words of Scarlett O'Hara, "Tomorrow is another day."

Monday, January 16, 2017

The mind is willing...

but the flesh is weak.

Especially today. And yesterday. And this past week.

Hoping for a break from the asthma flare and the back spasms now that I'm done with the flu. I'm ready to get started!

Maybe watching Baby Bug tomorrow will pull the kink out of it! She will at least put a huge smile on my face!

Sunday, January 15, 2017

Size Matters.




The cursor mocks me while I sit here trying to figure out where to begin. . .

I'm ready to get really busy dehoarding again. And I'm ready to start blogging about it again, because I find I hold myself more accountable when I do. I feel like I have more control over things. And I've got to take the control back from the things that have been controlling me, so I'm back. 

Don't get me wrong. I haven't relapsed to the point of no return. My house is not overflowing to the point it once was, but it's definitely not where I want it to be. I've just been...busy. For the last year. A Baby Bug does that to grandparents, and I'm not complaining! I just have to readjust my focus a little. And I did that today...

For our 16th wedding anniversary, we bought our first bedroom set. Before that we had a hodge podge of furniture that didn't match, and we made due. And after 16 years of marriage, we decided to take the plunge and buy a bedroom set. And the bedroom set is gorgeous! We had seen several beds that we liked while we were out shopping, but when we turned the corner and saw the one we bought, we both gasped audibly. We'd never had an experience quite like that before. We knew this was our set. 

The bed is what sold us. It's a gorgeous 4 poster canopy bed. Instead of the canopy going in a square around the bed, this canopy has all sorts of pretty metal curls that meet up in the center of the bed. It's an absolutely stunning mix of gorgeous oak and metal work with posts that are a good 6" in diameter at the largest. Just. Stunning.

At the time we went shopping for it 15 years ago, Hubster wanted to try a king-size bed, because we'd always had queens up until then. And we've had a love/hate relationship with the size ever since. We like that fact that we both have room to stretch out, but we both hate that we have to climb over a hump in the middle of the bed in order to reach one another. It makes any sort of snuggling difficult. More than anything else it takes up an awful lot of room in our traditional, small bedroom. 

And its size makes it really hard to maneuver around. Especially for Hubster. The Parkinson's has made us realize that we have to rethink how we go forward. For instance, we won't be using glass shower doors after all. We had gotten some for both our bathtub and for our shower, but now we can't use them. They're not a really good idea for someone who has balance issues, and Parkinson's causes balance issues. So we will need to sell them. Besides that, it looks like we may need to combine the two bathrooms into one. Neither of them is really conducive to free movement, and free movement is necessary. 

Which brings me back to our bedroom set. 

We made the very difficult decision today to get rid of it. 

::::2 points for making a hard dehoarding decision::::

Go us!

It's going to take some time to make it all happen. We will need to do a complete dehoarding of our bedroom first. The bedroom itself isn't too bad, but you don't even want to see the closet! (Well, maybe you do, but I don't know that I'm going to show you). And we need to do a major purge of clothes that we will never. ever. wear. no. matter. what. size. we. are. We are giving ourselves permission to put ourselves and our future first. 

And our future looks amazing!