My sister in law is like that, and apparently she’s not the only one in her family. The house looks Home & Garden-ready, but open any closet, cupboard or the fridge and it’s just scary. They had three storage rooms; she wanted to buy a fourth but my brother nixed it. When they inherited a house in a small village, one of the conditions he had to set in order to be able to fix it is that she couldn’t be there whenever he was cleaning. He’s kept and fixed old agricultural tools to use as decoration, as well as those pieces of furniture that were in decent shape, but there was Stuff there that had been piling up for generations.
I don’t think SiL got that memo; if she did, she would have printed it out. She and her relatives are a prime target for photo-printing companies. Every year, each of them makes multiple printed items (calendars, handbags, tees…); they print out every single picture they take and every single one which appears in their whatsapp feeds. SiL was upset that she couldn’t print out videos.
I digitize any invoice I get on paper; SiL doesn’t seem to believe that digital stuff is real.
This has described me at times. When I am grieving I have trouble dealing with day-to-day crap, sometimes for months. Without medical care my body will helpfully add migraines or cluster headaches to the mix, reducing me to a few hours per week of productivity. It builds up. And it’s not the sort of thing that someone else can fix for you, you’ve got to pull your bootstraps up and sort through it all yourself. This is insanely frustrating to others, because the answers to what’s good and what’s junk seem obvious to them.
It all comes down to sentimental value. No one else can understand why I have a framed child’s crayon thank you note on my bookshelf, but that little token in my peripheral vision has pulled me out of hell more times than I can count.
But for a hoarder, it’s a combination of this plus, I think, an extreme version of FOMO (fear of missing out.) They really do want to read that magazine, that newspaper. Someday they might have Grandchildren doing a report on that time period and wouldn’t it be cool to pull out that old National Geographic at just the right moment? And sometimes, if you hold on to crap for long enough, it becomes worth something, and wouldn’t it suck to miss out on the sale that let you finally make those desperately needed home repairs? They are people who are passively waiting for this stuff to save them. And they believe their faith will be rewarded.
In the extreme cases they are also just living in poverty. Most times they are not misers, but are simply unable to afford to get that toilet working again, or even to pay for trash pickup or fees at the dump, or gas to get there. Or if they have the money, they are afraid that if they let a repairman in they’ll be reported and kicked out of their home. They get so bottled up and neglected for so long that they are slowly reduced to an almost animal state. They are just surviving one day to the next, in whatever hellish circumstances that they can’t get out of.
I find those shows too painful to watch. I always picture the people ten or fifteen years before, and wonder what would have happened if they’d had a friend they could trust to be discreet and not to judge them. Someone who would just help them cheerfully to get re-organized or to get that toilet fixed. In the end, it’s only societal neglect that lets it get to that state.
It’s sometimes a feature of aging that people start buying the same things over and over. I’m not sure it’s exactly dementia (although it probably travels with it frequently) but it does seem to be a sort of cognitive issue with many elderly people. A friend’s parents started buying certain items like tin foil and sandwich bags every time they went to the store, whether they needed them or not, as an example. When they passed away he divvied the stash up and four people each got a 1-2 year supply of the stuff - the boxes had been neatly stored, unopened, yet they kept buying a bunch more every week. Like they had a grocery list with those on it and they simply could not deviate from it.
At work I run into people with similar problems. One lady told me that if she goes shopping without mom sometimes she takes the particular items from mom’s pantry, puts them in her car, drives to the store, buys what is needed, then brings the needed stuff and the hoarded stuff in together “Mom, I got everything!” and then puts everything away. In that particular case, mom is happy because she perceives the stuff a being newly purchased and doesn’t seem to see any anomalies. Whether or not any other elderly person would be fooled by this is a crapshoot.
But that gets back to the “why” of the problem. Different hoarders hoard for different reasons. If the reason is connected to aging/damage/injury/dementia it may not be amenable to treatment. If it’s connected to depression that calls for a different approach. Bad habits from childhood another. Also, of course, there are different degrees of this problem, and the TV shows only show the worst.
There is a difference between collecting and hoarding. If you’re the sort of collector that for the most part actually stores your collection in some sort of protective manner, who sells/trades/buys, and in other words is not just buying and stashing and never looking at stuff again…
That is a collector, not a hoarder.
My late spouse was a collector. Because he stored it carefully the items retained their value and I have been able to sell it after he was gone. I have gotten several thousand dollars for it (and still counting, though most of it is gone now). It actually did have value that I could cash in.
So… if your collections are like that, good.
If stuff it just thrown in a corner or storage shed and deteriorate… that’s more hoarder-like.
A few years ago, our house was infested with vermin and we had to have an exterminator in. Couch, love seat, and overstuffed chair - all had to be taken away to the dump. Mattresses - sprayed, and zipped-tight covers put over them, and the box springs. I had been collecting clothes from the thrift stores for years (blouses, denim things, purses, cashmere sweaters) and we got rid of at least 10 trash bags full of them.
It was exhausting and expensive. There are only two of us. But once we got the ball rolling, we decided to bite the bullet and get rid of some of the thousands of books we had, all over. Some, old textbooks or old Stephen King hardcovers, we threw out the covers and put the paper in the recycling bin. We mercilessly went through dozens of covered storage boxes and got rid of old toys and baby clothes - I brought the good stuff to the thrift store. Old coats, a dozen. Called our daughter over to look through her old closet, full of books, toys, stuffed animals, and she kept a few things. She is never going to have children, no use saving it all. Husband threw out a lot of his old hobby stuff - beer making equipment, karate uniforms, dozens of dried up little paint bottles, magazines, catalogs, books books books! The library got so many books, good ones, lots of kids books. I got rid of a vast bin of sewing material, scraps, old thread, trims, half-finished sewing projects. Hundreds of VCR tapes, all the Disney tapes we were so eager to purchase.
I can go on and on. We have slacked off now, there is still much to be done, but it seems like a huge project to be continued, don’t know where to start.
I have to say, getting rid of old photos, clothes, hobby equipment, baby clothes, toys…I was fighting back tears. Everything had meant something to us when we were younger and had a kid. It almost felt like WE had died, and we were ghosts, looking at all our ‘stuff’.
I was just this winter over at a housewarming party for two middle-aged bachelors who furnished their new apartment with one solid wall of bookshelves from ceiling to floor . Filled with I don’t know how many sets of old Encyclopedias. More than the library has! Someday, someone is going to have to back up a dumpster at their front door…
I could have written this post, almost word for word (except for the yard sale thing), to describe my wife (see post 29 above).
I think the emotional effects of such clean outs are often dismissed or ignored, but they are very real.
Back to work for me today - a couple of contractor bags of garbage and some miscellaneous stuff that went directly into the dumpster, out of my late spouse’s workspace, to free up space to move things around. The dumpster, by the way, is now about half full, starting from “empty” this morning. As pick up is not until Tuesday we may have to stash some garbage until after Tuesday morning and then fill the dumpster up again.
I find, for me, that I need to make one pass to get through the “low hanging fruit” - the obvious stuff. If I stop to sort through things that require thinking I’ll get lost. So right now it’s the “first pass”. I’ve had to stop my friend who is like “is this thing working or not” and say I don’t know, put it over in that corner for things to go over later. Right now, we’re clearing the floor and the sort piles are “obvious garbage”, “to be recycled”, “e-waste”, and “don’t know - worry later”. As I said, this frees up floor space and makes room, allowing for more productive workspace.
As I said, just dealing with the obvious and clearly garbage has taken up half a dumpster. Sure, everything else needs to be dealt with, but just the obvious garbage going out the door right now makes for progress. It’s easy, it’s quick. It’s the part of the process we’re focusing on right now. When that’s done I’ll move to the next thing on the list and keep going. This breaks it down into manageable bits for me.
Your mileage may vary. This is what works for me. If something else works for you then great.
We’ll be staging the stuff for the recyclers and I’ll have help loading up my pick up to take it away on Monday, when the recyclers are open. I may also be putting together a “donation” pile that will likewise be dealt with on Monday. There will be a “burn” pile - self explanatory.
The ceiling is leaking at the old building, so some stuff is getting ruined. Much anger and sadness over that.
We broke for lunch and some rest. Lunch was home-made soup and home-made bread. We’ll probably head back for more work in an hour or two.
The old landlord is stopping by later. Spoke with him on the phone and already he’s started up with “are you really going to get rid of that?”, “I can fix that”, “that’s worth money”… He’s more of a hoarder than I am at this point, for sure. Let’s just say there are issues.
My BFF’s husband is due in tonight. Maybe we can get the bicycle hangar up then, and go back to the Old Place tomorrow. I’m hoping with three people and the husband to help with the heavier items we can make some substantial progress.
I’ve thought about it. The house (well, apartment) is my own – it’s my wife that’s the hoarder (see post 29 above).
I believe she would react with terrifying rage and demand a divorce. I’m not joking.
Recently she took the kids and went to visit her mother. I was tempted, I really was, to really clean the place out. Get rid of a ton of stuff, including some furniture (we have some furniture that was purchased to replace some worn-out items, but then she couldn’t bring herself to get rid of the old piece, so now the place is jammed with furniture).
I was thinking I’d get my brother, who is aware of the situation (although my wife does not know, and can never know, that he’s aware and has seen the place), to come over and help, and just get it done, but I think her reaction would be so insane as to destroy our marriage. I genuinely think she’d throw me out before admitting that there’s a problem and dealing with it. Anyway, I did manage to throw out many large garbage bags of stuff. The place is so crowded she didn’t notice.
Yes.
Have you been in my kitchen? 
Yes. Our washing machine leaks. I can’t call a repairman. My wife is insistent that I fix it myself, but that’s impossible – I can’t get it out of the laundry closet by myself, and I can’t bring anyone in to help me.
This whole thread is terrifying. I really don’t know what to do.
Next time she visits her mother get a washer-repairman in. It won’t solve everything, but it will solve one problem. When she comes back say “I got it fixed” and don’t go into detail.
I would LOVE that! I’ve always said it can be hard throwing out sentimental stuff (or stuff I MIGHT MAYYYYBE use some day). So I’d love to fill up two boxes of stuff I really need, put them in my car, take off for a week… and have my kids* and their friends swoop in and empty the place.
It would be neat and clean and I bet I’d learn to cope with the few dozen times I really missed that book or record or Boba Fett PEZ Dispenser (just kidding, that’d be with me in my box of Necessities).
And if it turned out I really did need that Steve Jobs biography I’m never going to read, I could get it from the library.
*or if the kids are busy, a bunch of looters would do in a pinch…
I once met someone like this. A few tall items of furniture, like standing lamps and bookcases, stuck out above the above-waist-high “sea level” of assorted junk and trash, except for narrow cleared “trails” that led through about the center of each room. Among other things, there was a 1960s console stereo system, of the kind they used to give away on game shows, completely buried under the rubbish. It had evidently never been used because the stereo demonstration LP was still on the turntable.
I don’t know about complete mental breakdown, but the very few times I tried to neaten up my parents’ home (“neaten up” = throw shit away) their reaction was anger at my violation of their space. They didn’t have fits or anything but it was made quite clear that my efforts were NOT appreciated, thank you very much.
One of my best friends was a “clean” hoarder. When she died almost a year ago, she named me in her will as the executor of her estate and sole heir.
She lived alone. Her six-room apartment was almost completely filled up. We had to push aside a pile of packages just to get in the door. There was a path through the kitchen to the stairs. It was impossible to get to the other rooms on the first floor. Upstairs there was a path to the room where she had her computer (not operating) and another to her bedroom with a path to her (broken) bed and another to the bathroom. Other than the mold-encrusted bath/shower, and a generous covering of dust, the place was clean. She did not have a pet. There was no decaying food or biological garbage.
She also had three storage units. One we didn’t know about in time to salvage the contents before the facility repossessed it and auctioned off the contents. The other two were literally – this is not an exaggeration – packed wall-to-wall and floor-to-ceiling with stuff. In addition, she had inherited her father’s residence in a retirement community out of state. That residence was about half full.
Most of what was in her homes and storage units was mail-order goods, primarily clothes, and the majority of that wasn’t even opened. There were probably hundreds of large plastic bags filled with a mixture of used clothing and various papers. We had to search through each and every bag since some of them contained important documents.
It was very sad looking through everything. She apparently would just order clothing, or jewelry, or household items that she found attractive, but in most cases did not bother to open the packages when they arrived. Some of what was there seemed to have been intended as gifts that were never given. Most of what she had I gave away either to people I knew, or to various charities.
What she left was not cheap stuff, either; mostly it was high-quality and some of it quite expensive. I was left just hoping that she derived some pleasure from the accumulation of these possessions.
My MIL was boarder line. My husband filled two 18 yard dumpsterS before and after she passed. Dead mummified squirrels in the attic. Empty cottage cheese containers in chest of drawers, a clump of rusty silverware under the sink, a trunk full of used envelopes etc.
My wife’s father is one. A dozen dead cars, a few motorcycles, and tractor because something could supposedly be salvaged or restored someday. A garage impossible to walk through packed with old tools and construction scrap slowly rusting together into a single iron oxide mass. There is a mobile home that they used to live in that is now packed full and moldy and rotting, too dangerous really to even explore what’s inside.
When he passes, it’s going to be best as a bulldoze it all and sell the land to developers situation.
I would like to put up a defense of hoarders, or at least inadvertent ones.
I saw this trend in my mom, and now in me. You see something of interest – a book, an object, whatever – and you put it aside for the future. You have used this item before; your interest is substantial; the time necessary just isn’t there, but you expect it will be. Maybe when you are on vacation; maybe when you retire.
But time catches up to you. Your physical and mental facilities decline, subtly and imperceptibly. It’s hard to realize your ambitions may never be fulfilled. Your retirement with all its promise of copious free time never materializes. There may come a day when you are no longer able to handle such demanding tasks that were once easy. But the important stuff is still there; in boxes, in the basement, attic, or garage.
And then you die, leaving behind all these hopes, dreams, and stuff you saved that is now worthless to anyone else. Was it hoarding or just unrealized ambition?
It’s a fact. Of life. Of death.
Handy hint: whenever I see something I’d like to buy, I snap a picture of it. Then, at the end of the day (or week) I scroll through my pics and see if I still want/need it.
The answer’s almost always no. Then I delete the photo (if it’s mayyybe… then I keep it and review again in a few days).
Wow, that really hits hard.
I see that alot in hobbies like woodworking where people will buy tools because they KNOW they will be putting together a woodworking shop someday or they buy a boat or an RV because they KNOW they will have all this free time someday BUT the thing just sits there and is never used.
Hoarding or unrealized ambition? Hard to say.
This is me. My degree is in Aerospace Engineering and part of it is that basic engineering fundamentals haven’t changed so they are still occasionally useful, but I’ll admit that really it’s because I think books with titles like “Airplane Performance, Stability and Control” or “Theory of Wing Sections” look cool sitting on the shelf. 
Anyway, my grandmother had hoarding tendencies, but the hoarding was confined to the basement. While the rest of her house was perfectly normal and uncluttered, the basement was packed full and had narrow pathways everywhere for getting around. When she moved to a nursing home, they ended up hauling multiple dumpster loads out of there.