Hoarding. What an interesting disease. So American, wouldn't you say? To have access to so much stuff that you are literally sick and drowning in all of your material possessions. There are starving people in the world who have nothing- and then you turn on "Hoarders" and see the flip side to having little or nothing.
The husband doesn't like the show "Hoarders." He also doesn't like the commercials during "Hoarders," which is always for more depressing, shockingly horrific programs like "My Strange Addiction," "Intervention," or "My 600 Lb. Life." What is it about A&E and their niche with the depressing real life shit that no one really wants to know about?
Well, I guess people do want to know about it, or people wouldn't watch it. That channel digs up all the freakiest freaks hidden in society, unEarthing them so that we normal people may feel more normal. I honestly think that the audience for these shows has been born with the birth of the shows themselves- the interest is sparked once you get a taste of the highlights (lowlights?) when one of those shows flashes across your television screen. Like, "What is that craziness I just saw? I must check that out..."
Follow the trail of crying, disheveled societal rejects to gag-worthy utopia.
Jersey Shore? The Bachelor? Young people getting drunk, having threesomes in hot tubs and fighting and using "BLEEP" words? Cat fights, whiney and crying dingbat chicks competing for the attention of some douche bag guy?
Weak.
Let's see a guy who has an emotional and sexual relationship with his "male" car that he has named Chase. Or an old lady who has so much garbage and junk and cat feces in her house that she can't even make it through the bathroom door- so she just relieves herself in diapers that she leaves lying around all over the house, and THEN when the house is cleaned out, she finds dead cats under the mountains of dirty adult diapers piled up around the house.
They say people like the shocking, dirty laundry aspect of reality television.
Now that's just about as shocking and dirty as it gets. Unbelievable. It's hard to fathom the idea that it's real. It's mind blowing. There are some pretty sick tickets in this world ("sick tickets..." Steel Magnolias? Anyone catch that? I can't take credit for that great play on words...)
I don't really keep up with any television that's not HBO (with a recent exception of The Voice, because that guy from Maroon 5 just won't let me change the channel...)- and although I don't blame Taylor for disliking "Hoarders," from time to time I catch an episode or two just for the thrill of feeling disgusted for 60 minutes.
It's so disturbing- yet it's the disturbing factor that keeps me glued to the TV for back to back episodes, clutching my pillow with eyes open wide and nose crinkled in horror and fascination when I get the chance to watch it in syndication. By the time I'm done watching and turn the channel, I'm mentally going through my home thinking of all the crap I need to gather and drop off at Goodwill.
Ultimately, the show inspires me to have less stuff and "cleanse" my house of junk and clutter and things that I have no use for.
On those nights that I watch "Hoarders," after the babies are tucked into their beds sleeping and I have some time to kill all for myself, I settle down in bed with my cat Niles and the husband is laying on his stomach next to us, farting around on his tablet, occasionally looking up to catch a few minutes of the show when I gasp and exclaim, "Holy shit!" before he turns his attention back to web surfing, muttering something along the lines of:
"What the hell is wrong with these people?"
"Omigod."
or my favorite,
"They don't have a disease. They're just fucking lazy."
I remember being on the phone with my mother one night while watching Hoarders, and we were discussing whatever episode was on. Although I've gotten better, I've yet to learn to keep my damn mouth shut sometimes when talking with my mother. Do I get under her skin on purpose? Maybe a little- but for the most part I pretty much just say whatever is on my mind, her feelings often unspared. The woman makes no quams about sparing my feelings when sharing with me what she really thinks about things, so in turn, the apple doesn't fall too short from the tree.
I wouldn't call my parents Hoarders, but they may be some kind of distant, related by marriage cousin of Hoarders. I told her that and she got really defensive- so jokingly I told her that the first symptom of Hoardism is denial. She got PISSED. I then talked myself into a corner, trying to explain the rationale behind my theory of her hoarding tendencies- citing specific examples and assuring her that it was endearing and I could understand how she and my dad have come to have so much stuff.
It didn't do any good. No sense of humor there- she all but hung up on me- which makes me seriously consider the idea that she may very well have some distant mild case of hoarding disorder. I won't get into details, but my parents have so much random stuff it's kind of ridiculous. Not like, scary filthy obscenely hoarded out or anything- but definitely a clean, organized, much less severe version maybe.
There is no clear space on any surface of their home, no drawer unstuffed, no cabinet unpacked to the max, no closet unstuffed to capacity. Expect for my dad- who keeps his bathroom drawer and closet neat and uncluttered. I suppose that as a man, those are the two spaces all for himself that my mom can't fill with stuff, and he's very territorial about it.
I don't think it's uncommon though- hoarding tendencies in our country. Look how much crap we have, compared to what, 30 years ago? How much crap did people have back then? My mother grew up very poor and had very little. This is why I think that once she became a successful adult with a healthy income, she started buying things that she wanted because she could. And bless her, her heart is so big that she looks for things to buy and gift to family because she's so incredibly generous.
I've learned in the past not to have a gather and collect for donation days when she's at my house. She'll rummage through my bags and pull things out and find ways to justify keeping things. She'll find things that she may have given me or the kids that we no longer have use for, then get all huffy and act upset like I don't appreciate her. This is how people wind up with tons and tons of... dare I say it... junk?
JUNK: Old or discarded articles that are considered useless or of little value.
Think about it- I don't know how any of your moms are, but if I kept every little item of clothing or trinket or whatever, I'd wind up on Hoarders and we'd be eating dinner atop a massive pile of clothing and trinkets and whatever.
Over time, slowly but surely, bits and pieces of the past are making their way to the donation piles. Items and accessories and clothing from past "lives" that are momentarily hard to let go of. In the past ten years, Taylor and I moved 4 times and have lived in 5 different houses- and with that, we've moved around a ton of stuff that we should've gotten rid of along the way.
We're also both the oldest children in our families, so over the years, relatives have always pawned their junk off on to us. When we didn't have much, that was helpful and useful, but now that we are "grown ups," we have bought our own stuff, but are still in the process of getting rid of the years worth of hand me downs we accumulated. We've almost succeeded. It feels good.
I've said in the past that I'm a nostalgia whore- so letting go of stuff isn't always so easy for me. But then I think back to episodes of "Hoarders"- like the one with the woman who had over 600 pots and pans that she never used but got all emotional over getting rid of- and it helps me to rifle through things much quicker, with less thought and less sentimentality.
It's especially difficult with the babies clothing. Oh God, the babies clothing... but I'm getting better.
Of course I keep and save things that I have grown attached to- things that are significant and particularly special- but I find it so necessary and important to CLEANSE my living space of junk. Because there is always going to be more junk. More clothes. More trinkets. More books. I've learned after the past few Christmases, since we had children, that there has to be room in the house to put stuff- otherwise, you wind up wandering around with a gigantic collection of stuff that you have no idea what to do with. That makes me feel like a crazy person.
Plus- I want my kids to grow up seeing us rid ourselves of junk by the means of donation. Pass the buck along. Hopefully someone else will find new purpose and use and meaning in any one item. One person's junk is another person's treasure. Forget a garage sale. Who has the time and patience to go through all that? OK, a lot of people. But I don't. I want it out of sight out of mind.
Go through the house, at least once a season, and collect things that are taking up space and are serving no purpose.
Load up my car and drop it all off at Goodwill.
Get a receipt for tax purposes.
Go on with my life.
Anticipate the inevitable return of future crap to replace the old crap in the temporarily emptied space.
