So, who knows who, if anybody, will end up reading this blog, but I thought I'd take a minute to - sort of - introduce myself. If you look to the right, you'll notice that I've deleted the "about me" / "contact me" option that Blogger offers. And my posts are signed off with "child of a hoarder."
I was ashamed of the house my mom and I lived in when I was growing up. I never told anyone about the squalid conditions until I let my boyfriend in, senior year of high school. I lived in the dorms in college, so I didn't have to deal with the awkward maneuvers of making sure nobody saw where I lived - sitting out on the porch early when a friend picked me up so they didn't come to the door, etc. I didn't tell any of my friends there because it didn't come up; I was enjoying the freedom of being able to ignore the problem since I was no longer living in it.
In grad school I worked part time at a retail store with a fabulous manager and a great group of colleagues. An older woman who worked there told me the story of a day that started out normal; she got in the shower, and when she got out, police were in her house, arresting her husband for purchasing child pornography. She knew absolutely nothing about it. She was also a special education teacher, so learning this about her husband was extra hard. And she was terrified that people would assume she had known, and label her unfit to be around kids. She hid the story, which made the local news, to the extent that she could for years. And then, slowly, she realized: this was not my fault. She honestly had no part in it, and she got tired of apologizing for it and hiding that shame. She helped me realize that my mom's hording is not my fault, and that I have nothing to hide: I am not the one with the problem.
So now I can just tell people, "my mom is a hoarder." Now, I don't go around shouting it for fun, but if it comes up, I'm comfortable sharing that. The reality TV shows on the subject have "helped," a little. At least now when you tell someone, "my mom is a hoarder," they understand what that means and you don't have to explain, "she keeps so much stuff that entire rooms are sealed off, conditions are unsanitary, not to mention ugly and uncomfortable, and she refuses to sort or organize and continues to bring more things into her home."
My mom however, does have a problem. And she doesn't want to talk about it; with me or anyone else. She's also technologically illiterate, and a little bit afraid of the internet. I haven't told her about this blog. In fact, the only people I've told about it are my boyfriend and my best friend. My friends and family don't need to read it; I'm writing it for myself, and maybe for someone else in a similar situation who happens to find it. So, I haven't told friends and family because it's not something I'm "promoting." I haven't told my mom because she would be devastated and furious to learn that I was talking about her on the internet.
In respect of the reaction I know she would have, I'm taking an effort to keep this blog as anonymous as possible. I won't ever use her name, or the real names of any of the "characters" in this drama. I won't share where we are, and I'll avoid personal details as much as possible. If you're interested in contacting me, feel free to leave a comment, but I won't be passing out any contact information.
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