This will sound contradictory, but hoards remove your sense of ownership.
At least, they do when you’re living in someone else’s hoard.
There are the obvious physical pitfalls of a hoard, such as a diminished ability to move freely, no space to put anything, dusty air, and dirty surfaces. There are intangible downsides as well. One of them is a lack of sovereignty over your possessions.
When Your Space Is Not Your Own
I’ve written before about how my family’s hoard felt like the 1950’s movie monster The Blob, the creeping terror that simultaneously grew as it consumed things. When you live with a hoarder, you are co-habiting with The Blob.
“It felt demeaning, like ‘You have nothing of your own.'”
Over time, my parents’ things began to creep into my space. Their hoard grew to dominate my closets, fill bookshelves that had been moved into my room, and slide under my bed.
My brother had the same issue. When we talked about this topic, he told me, “My room was the one place I could keep clean, and then they started putting their clothes in my closet. It felt demeaning, like ‘You have nothing of your own.’”
It was extremely upsetting, so he staged a protest: He took everything out of his closets and drawers and threw it in the middle of his floor. A huge fight ensued, the items had to be returned to their places, and the hoard carried on.
Resistance Seems Futile
Not only did the hoard take over my space, but it also absorbed my items and claimed them as its own.
My attempts to get rid of items were often fruitless. More than once, I held yard sales in an effort to make space and make a few bucks. Every time, one of my parents would buy a bunch of my stuff because they didn’t want to see it leave, either due to sentimentality or an inability to let things go.
I tried each time to resist selling to my parents, but ultimately the hopelessness set in. The feeling that my stance was pointless and that, no matter how hard I might try, I would fail at making any bit of difference. So I took the money and put it towards saving up for my own place.
In addition to the yard sales, I tried to throw things away or donate them. They would invariably be fished out of the trash or the donation pile by my mom and be moved to another part of the house. I was forced to donate or trash things stealthily, which made me feel like a thief, even though they were supposedly my own possessions.
There’s Only One Owner in This House
When other people fill your personal space with their items against your will, you get the message that you are unimportant in the household and that you don’t matter. When your sense of ownership is superseded by someone else’s (because a hoarder always has first dibs), your feelings and self-sovereignty are irrelevant.
More than 20 years later, I found some of those same yard sale items with their price tags bearing my handwriting when I was cleaning out the house to sell it. Only at that point did I finally have control over my possessions and feel empowered to do something with them. When I was in my 40s and both of my parents were dead.
My Life As a Ghost
When you are surrounded by things that you don’t feel you own, even if you bought them with your hard-earned money, it gives you a strange, unmoored sensation. It’s hard to describe. You feel weighed down by a huge mass of items, yet you feel like a ghost that can’t manifest in the physical realm long enough to grasp an object and remove it to help alleviate the suffocating weight.
Are you grappling with something similar as the loved one of a hoarder? If you’re a hoarder, have you considered the emotional effects of the hoard on your family and friends?
If you’d like some support from groups or professionals, or if you’d like to DIY it with some useful books about hoarding and organizing, check out the Hoarding & Mental Health Resources page.
Hope and joy,
Rachel
