I have a storage locker full of stuff at my apartment. Haven’t really touched anything in there in the year I’ve been here. Before that it was in my garage at the previous place for 6.5 years.
I went there the other day to get out some pots for some plants. There was a different lock on it. I panicked. They’d said they were cleaning out some of the lockers because they didn’t know whose stuff was in them, but I didn’t think mine was listed and I was certain that I’d filled out some form saying I was using this one. So I hadn’t said anything before now because I assumed I was ok. Initially, I was angry, thinking of losing all that stuff. Then I started to really think about what was in there and I lost my steam. Finally I went by the office and inquired. Seemed they’d only changed the lock but hadn’t gotten around to emptying it yet. So all my stuff was still there.
Then I was rather surprised at how disappointed I was that it WAS all still there.
Freckafree, I have thought about this thread often and I wondered how you were doing. Reading a recent book on hoardingled me to resurrect your thread. Would you be okay to share some news?
I’m still working on this one, freckafree, & we’ve been married for over 30 yrs.
I never got any help unless I threw a full-blown hissy fit, & I got really tired of always being the bad guy. So I…
quit cooking. Completely. And didn’t grocery shop so they couldn’t cook, either. And I told them there would BE no cooking until they started pulling their weight.
After a few days they were sweeping, cleaning the tub etc. I put a list on the refrigerator of things that needed to be done around the house on a regular basis, with our names on it. Every time somebody completed a task they would write down what they had done.
Now things are at least better. (I learned to accept the male concept of clean as long as I wasn’t doing everything.) Occasionally, tho, I find myself muttering my way around piles & grime and I…
don’t cook. Sometimes it takes two nights but usually only one. I don’t even have to say anything anymore.
They’ve learned that “you don’t work…you don’t eat.”
Didn’t realize this was a zombie until the very end. Shoot. I was all full of good advice, or at least repetitive advice that had already been given.
I lived with That Man or Someone Like Him for 10 years. We were in therapy for nearly 3 years, and at the end of that, he had graduated to carrying the trash from the end of the sidewalk to the end of the drive, provided I carried the trash to the end of the sidewalk with him walking beside me. Because otherwise it wouldn’t be faaaaiiir.
Eventually we divorced. Eventually after that I found another man, who turned out to be even lazier. (I hadn’t even considered that might be possible.) After 1 year living together, I told him I wouldn’t be living this way 5 years from now. At then end of year 2, I told him “In two years, I’m gone, come hell or high water.” And I was–that’s when I bought my house and got the hell out of Dodge.
And life has been SWEET every day since then. The house is cluttery but tolerable, and I’m not ashamed for anyone to see it. Got my garden, got my dogs, got my kids, got (oddly) more financial stability than I had anytime I was living with someone else in a two-income home. Go figure.
I sure hope our OP has found some peace and stability. Life is too short for that kind of misery.
I did take a lot of your collective advice to heart. First of all, I quit drinking. I didn’t know how much my drinking was contributing to the whole mess (the metaphorical mess, not the literal mess), but I knew it sure couldn’t be helping. And with the money I wasn’t spending on the finest wine cardboard could hold, I hired a twice-monthly cleaning lady. And I started seeing a counselor.
One of the things I came to realize is that resentment is like taking poison and expecting the other person to die. And that I was hanging on to my resentment to justify wanting out of the marriage. My counselor has helped me see that my husband probably is mentally ill, and that at least has enabled me to let go of most of the resentment.
The irony is, with the semi-hoarding conditions, the cleaning lady can only clean about a third of the house, really. She cleans the kitchen, the two bathrooms, and my bedroom. She can usually vacuum most of the living room, although there’s still a lot of my husband’s paperwork clutter. If I let it, it could really frost my cookies that I’m paying for a house cleaner who can’t really clean while my husband sits at home all day doing nothing (and REALLY doing nothing now, because he’s no longer doing the volunteer gig that was supposedly consuming so much of his time.)
The absence of alcohol has improved my mental and physical health immensely. I’ve lost a bunch of weight and am exercising regularly so I’m no longer taking medication for hypertension and depression.
All this is good stuff – but I’m still stuck in a marriage I want out of, and I can’t figure out what’s keeping me from getting unstuck. That’s the next subject to tackle with my counselor.
I’m surprised nobody offered the LOGICAL suggestion: Just kill him.
Well, okay, yeah, that IS illegal. But I bet it’s something that Freckafree would find satisfying.
To Freckafree: I’m glad you’ve stopped drinking, that you’re getting some exercise, and that you’re seeing a counselor. Even if it seems that 99% of the problem was your husband, the fact that YOU were the one upset means that you have to find a way to deal with it. And it sounds like you are on the right track.
If you were using alcohol to solve your problems, I’d venture a guess that your husband is using the same chemical solution? THAT would explain what he’s been doing all day while you’re at work.
I’d also guess that your husband has gone some MAJOR depression going on. The kind of depression where you have to tell the other person, “I’ve made a doctor’s appointment for you, and I’ll be taking off work at 2 PM tomorrow to drive you to the dr’s office myself.” If a person has a heart attack, you don’t expect him to drive himself to the hospital. You call 911 and want the paramedics to do the transporting. With major depression, the person is too emotionally paralyzed to go by himself to the doctor’s office.
The folks you see on the TV shows about hoarding are essentially paralyzed with depression and panic disorders. While the programs show help via counseling and professional organizers, I’m of the school of thought they need heavy-duty medication. When something in your life is THAT far outta whack, the chemical soup that surrounds your brain is missing critical compounds it needs to function correctly.
Thanks for the update, freckafree. I’m glad you have taken some very positive steps. I wish you and your family all the best trying to get to a solution that works for everyone.
Thank you for the update, freckafree. That sounds like enormous progress. I hope - really do- that you will find a way to end the marriage. It will be better for you, your son, and even for your husband.
You won’t perhaps have much time to read, but I kind of read self-help books and popular psychology books as a hobby, (i’m a psychologist) and there are two I would recommend you read.
One is Too good too leave, to bad to stay, a book that might help you figure out why it is so hard for you too end your marriage. The other is "Stuff: compulsive hoarding and the meaning of things". I found that book to be the first that gives an inside view into the mind of a hoarder. It explains, far better then they themselves can, what drives the different types of hoarders. If understanding your husband can take away the resentment that eats at you and helps you see the relationship for what it is, that might help you too.
Thanks for the update, freckafree. I’m pretty jealous that you’ve started to get a really good handle on your internal emotional stuff!
As for me, I kicked the bum out and have never felt better - I ended up replacing him much faster than I intended, but I keep being shocked when the new guy pulls his weight. Yesterday he went out and cleaned the porch and I was kind of gobsmacked - I keep going out to take the trash can in and finding he already did it, or opening the dishwasher and it’s already unloaded. It’s a bit like when you pick up a can of Coke that you think is full, instead it’s empty and your hand goes way up in the air.
In a way it makes me a bit uncomfortable - I think I was used to my martyr role and comfortable in it, and now I feel like I better step up my game and work a hell of a lot harder not to leave a mess that he’ll then clean up.
People on here said things to me for years about ending a relationship and finding with somebody new that “everything that you thought was just meant to be hard was suddenly easy” - it’s like that. I know we’re still in the honeymoon phase, but I don’t have to worry about what I say because it might start a fight. He wants to contribute, in terms of effort and money. (As opposed to, you know, neither.) If I ask him what he thinks about what I’m going to wear to work and he says something not entirely positive, I know it’s because he actually looked at it and thought about it and it does look too Eastery and I should go change, and if he says I look nice it’s because I really do and not because he wants me to stop talking. He goes to dinner with my parents, he went to a company party with me, he does all the stuff that people normally do for each other that I had forgotten shouldn’t require a struggle.
A thread which has been inactive for a long time and then is “resurrected” by someone posting to it. Since the thread was dormant for over a year it’s a zombie thread.
The problem is, the temporary satisfaction one would get from doing him in would quickly be supplanted by the dissatisfaction inherent in an extended encounter with the penal system of the state they live in.
Of course, there would be the silver lining that, regardless of one’s cellmate’s problems, there’s only so much hoarding they’ll allow in a prison cell.
