The hoarding expert 'fires' me: I can't help you, he says.

I haven't posted in a while. I've been through a few disappointments. One big one was the "hoarding expert" from the local mental health agency. When Thomas first came to visit me, he made a number of sweeping but hope-provoking statements, saying that he could see that distraction was obviously my main problem and that he planned to "change my brain to change my life." He would teach me how to deal with the distraction and make decisions about organizing my things, using cognitive behaviour therapy. (I have had some exposure to cognitive behaviour therapy, but I was eager to see how he planned to apply it in my case.)

The next week, however, he forgot that he was again supposed to come to my house. He phoned me from his office instead, when he realized his error. I don't remember the details of what we talked about on the phone, just that I was disappointed.

The third week, he came back to my house, made a cursory tour of my house with me to point out safety hazards (blocked exits, stairways, hallways) and then announced that he couldn't help me any more. He said that he felt my friend Elaine's volunteer help -- helping me stay focused on my cleanup task and providing advice where needed -- was what I needed, and he couldn't provide that. He offered to apply for funding to have some entity come in to haul away my excess stuff after I had decided what to keep and what to dispose of. I am physically able to take things away. My problem is that I become overwhelmed and am easily distracted when I approach any decluttering or organizing project. I need help DECIDING what to take away -- not help with TAKING IT AWAY.

I tried to tell him that I didn't want to be a burden to my friend -- she was helping on a volunteer basis and had other responsibilities to take care of -- a job, a husband, and a daughter. She has warned me that she will only help as long as she sees me making progress. I appreciate her help, but making progress is often very difficult for me. I don't want to lose her friendship. I'm trying to do as much on my own as possible.

Thomas said that if Elaine and Kathy could no longer help, I could call him back. But he needed to focus his efforts on clients whose health and safety were impacted by their hoarding. (Mine isn't?) And he could only help me by providing funding for hauling stuff away.

Thanks, but no thanks...

So much for Thomas's offer to "change my brain, change my life." He had said that he could use the same strategies to help me bridge the gulf between my daughter and me. He said the gulf wouldn't just go away with decluttering. I needed to change my brain... But how do I change my brain? Thomas never answered that question. 

Kathy, my OT, wasn't surprised that Thomas's initial offer of help had fizzled out. She had encountered Thomas in working with another one of her clients. He had flaked out on them, too, after raising that person's hopes for change.

(Thomas is young, attractive and can be very charming. He was not at all charming on his last visit. I felt that he had fired me.)

Kathy's helpful suggestions

Kathy's time with me is limited -- usually one hour every week or two -- but she usually has concrete suggestions to help me. I have had trouble dealing with several stacks of papers, for instance. She had me try to   deal with as much of the stack as I could in 10 minutes. I was actually able to make headway. The problem is just getting started. And it helps to have someone here with me to help me stay on task.

At other times, she has helped me break down a mess into small parts, which made them easier to tackle.

During her last visit, I showed Kathy the daunting task I was currently confronting: How to make room in my basement so that my daughter and her partner could store some of their furniture for the next year. It looked impossible, but Kathy suggested that I send a bunch of my stuff off to a local charity -- they will send out a truck to pick up large items. She helped me write up a list of large items to dispose of and then she had me phone to schedule the pickup while she was there. 

By letting go of these items (which had included some of the items I failed to sell at the garage sale), I was able to make room for my daughter and her partner to move in a single bed, two dressers, and assorted other items. I had to sort and clean other things in the basement as well, so it was a week-long effort -- but very successful in the end. I sent off about five bookcases, one large lateral filing cabinet, one large mirror, a garden hose caddy, and other items. I had to get rid of linens and clothes to make room in my shelves and bins for other items. I moved about a dozen or more empty bins into the garage. If I find I don't need them elsewhere in the house, I will donate those to a charity.

In the weeks since Thomas fired me, I have had both successes and failures. The work is often extremely slow, and I become stalled at times. I still become quite overwhelmed. My psychiatrist has increased my Sertraline (antidepressant) dosage from 50 mg per day to 200 mg. He has also increased the prescription for Concerta, an medication for Attention Deficit Disorder. My brain seems to be working better, but I am having frequent problems with intestinal problems. On some days, I have spent all day lying on the sofa in pain, not hungry or wanting to eat. I am losing weight, and most of my pants won't stay at my waist. 

I needed to lose weight, and now I seem to have lost about four pant sizes. However, I am not trying to lose weight. And I am not sure whether the weight loss signals another health problem. I have made an appointment with my general practitioner.

I have tried not to call on my friend Elaine's physical presence too much -- she has limited time and I don't want to be a burden -- but I have been emailing her and talking with her to tell her what I'm doing and get her suggestions. Also, my friend Diane (from second grade) offered to provide guidance from affair. On good days, I try to send them my to-do list and then report back to them on my progress. I may post some of these interchanges to fill in the gaps in this blog. Even writing emails can be time consuming, and Facebook and other Internet wonders have a way of distracting me from my clean-up duties. 

Neatness is not a habit for me

My living room, dining room and kitchen, despite my ongoing work, are still pretty messy. They have fewer things in them, but they still contain too many things in them. I find it very difficult to put things away, no matter how hard I try. There are always seemingly more important and urgent things to do.

This is hard! No wonder I feel overwhelmed!

Confession 1 - I am a Solitaire addict

I've just deleted Solitaire from my iPad. I have an addiction to it... This seemed my only recourse. I was losing too much time and energy to Solitaire. I need to delete it from my other devices for my own sanity.

This was just one thing that has gotten in the way of my decluttering work over the past week.

Confession 2 - I routinely overcommit my time and talents

I also committed another particularly me-like sin since my last post: I overcommitted myself -- again! I inherited a somewhat Type A personality (softened by the antidepressant, but not totally suppressed). However, I haven't been a superwoman since my teenage years -- if I was so even then. In my mind, I was. However, that may have just been an illusion.

A week ago I followed through on a promise, as a beginner videographer, to video dress rehearsals and two performances of a local youth musical production. This was time-consuming, stressful and exhausting, and now I've learned that it was probably against copyright to record the performances at all. I'll figure a way out of this, but I don't know my path yet. The effort exhausted me, and I took several days to recover.  Unfortunately, my video cameras, tripods, memory cards, batteries, cables, and power cords are still somewhat of a jumble. I know that I need to organize them in some useful way, but I don't know exactly what I need to do.

Gains and losses

In the past 10 days, I have taken away another two loads of things and sent away bins of stuff for recycling and landfilling.

Despite this effort, my house has again descended into chaos -- even the decluttered kitchen and semi-decluttered living room. I have engaged in more of the churning activity that is typical of hoarders.

My treasure trove of plastic bins stayed on my balcony for several days, collecting rainwater and tree pollen (to which I am allergic). I have washed them AGAIN and begun moving them to space I have created in my basement, where I plan to use them for sorting and storing hardware and computer parts. (The computer parts are now almost all in the basement, mostly sorted, and most of my music is now back in the living room/dining room.)

Reality shock - the money factor!

Last Tuesday, I visited my financial advisor for a reassessment of my investment risk. That part of the visit was routine. However, I have involved Myrna in my concern about my compulsive spending habits. Her advice to me was direct, though compassionate. If I don't find a job to supplement my current meagre sporadic income, then I must find some way to limit my monthly spending to $2,000 or less per month. Or else I will run out of money before I die. This means a major cutback in spending.

I am not "poor." The problem is that I have been blessed with affluence. However, I need to realize that my circumstances have changed, and my spending needs to change to reflect that reality.

I knew this news was coming -- I had been worrying about it for the past year. I have attended two "Living on Less" courses at a local Anglican church to try to reprogram my mindset toward spending. I am doing better, but I need to do MUCH BETTER. I am hoping that Thomas is able to help me change my brain to fix this problem.

My mental health advisors want me to get my house in better shape before I again start looking seriously for a job. They feel it would HELP my job search effort if my home were less chaotic. My clutter problem was getting worse because looking for work and worrying about money was overloading my naturally anxious brain.

Because of a nice inheritance from my parents (nice, but possibly not enough for my spending habits over the rest of my life), I don't qualify for most government disability support because of my mental health problems. I want to work, and I feel I have skills to offer -- but I am having trouble finding work. Has my mood disorder become severe enough to become THE BARRIER to employment -- or is it just my age (61) and job-hunting methods? I have attended several job-hunting courses provided by local agencies.

The government has raised the retirement age to 67 -- and I would genuinely like to work till I am 67. However, for people to work until they are 67, business needs to be willing to hire older workers -- as well as people with minor disabilities. I believe my mood disorder, in regards to work, is minor in its affect on my employers, but I'm not sure they share my view of the matter. I feel very frustrated.

I am not a 'flake' 

Perhaps this is why I overcommit to volunteer activities I know I can do. However, my desire to succeed prompted me to spend several hundred dollars to purchase additional video supplies for my volunteer effort. I should have turned down the volunteer post, since it was stressful and took away from my decluttering effort, but I was concerned about appearing like a "flake" to the show directors.

The man who hired me straight out of journalism school, when I was a young woman of 24, told me, years ago, that one of my references had told him that I was a flake, "but I hired you anyway." Under his tutelage, I won a number of writing awards and honours, including the chance to come to Canada on a Rotary fellowship. I am deeply grateful to him, even now, for giving me a chance to show my worth.

I am easily distracted, but I am not a flake. I am intelligent, I work hard, and I usually do just fine.

Myrna has me working on a budget and collecting information about a possible source of income. I will meet with my accountant about my tax returns on Wednesday. I am not through my money hell yet, but at least I am beginning to face reality.

I must change my BRAIN to change my HOUSE?

[Sigh! I can't remember the specifics of my visit from Thomas, the hoarding specialist from the local mental health association, but this is how I recall this encounter:]

Thomas visited me at home yesterday to tour my house and get a sense of the nature of my problem with stuff. His comments were extremely unsettling but insightful. I am still trying to absorb what he said. 

'Your house is full of distraction!'

He told me that he feels that my house reflects the state of my brain -- it is stuffed with many beautiful, interesting things that are all distractions. "You have a house full of distraction!"

And my brain just can't deal with all the distraction, all the "documents" -- bits of information -- that I am trying to stuff into it. I need to learn to limit the input, so that I can organize and manage the internal database that is my brain.

He said it was also obvious that even though I am intelligent and creative, I seem to have problems with organization -- a type of disability. "We all have areas of disability, and this seems to be yours." 

I shared that I had noticed, in my work with programmers, many of them seem to be "marathoners" at logical, step-by-step thinking, while I, the technical writer, seem only capable of "sprints" of logic. "My brain hyperlinks from one topic to another, instead of following one topic to its conclusion," I agreed.

I had told him that my psychiatrist had felt that I didn't have Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) because I had always been a good student in school and was able to focus extremely well on some things -- working on the computer, playing my flute, writing, photography. 

'Your house is a sheet of music with all the notes poured out on it as a jumble of ink'

Thomas pointed out that computers and music all have some inherent structure to them -- helping direct my brain on the proper path. "But your house has no structure, it is a jumbled mess of creativity. Your house is a sheet of music with all the notes poured out on it as a jumble of ink."

I had told him that I find it very difficult to decide where things should go in my house. And even when I make decisions, I often change my mind. He promised to help me learn how to impose structure on the house. One of the first challenges, he said, would be to create a space that would be completely empty of things and a space that could have things stored in a disordered way. He wants me to learn that some places are supposed to be EMPTY.

Creating 'empty' areas...

My initial thinking is that my hallways and stairways should be the empty areas. My friend Elaine had already pointed out that paramedics could not get a stretcher through my hallways or up my stairs if they needed to. I have been working to empty these areas, but these pathways are still serving as areas for temporary storage of things destined to move upstairs or downstairs.

Thomas asked me other questions about my things -- I can't remember just what he asked me -- and it came out in our discussion that both my father and my ex-husband had controlling personalities. My brother always tells folks that I had to move to Canada, 1,000 miles away away, as a young adult, to get out from under my dad's control. (My brother also experienced my dad's efforts at continuing control of us as we became adults.)

I never questioned that my dad loved me -- he just didn't know how to let go of me, to let me be the somewhat freer spirit that I wanted to be at times. I don't know that he wanted me to be a spinster, but he certainly mounted campaigns against the other men in my life. I was engaged three times as an adult before finally marrying without his approval at age 30. 

My dad died 16 years ago from Alzheimer's Disease and other complications. He never liked my ex-husband, and we were still married when he died. In fact, we remained married for 25 years. I thought it was a happy marriage, but my ex-husband may remember it differently. 

My dad was also a hoarder, so he influenced me in that way, too. Like him, I often followed my intellectual passions to the extreme, absorbed in my interests. We both loved books, nature, science, music and photography. We were both extroverts, people who never met a stranger. We were both perfectionists, always striving for perfection but, of course, never reaching it.

My dad's dad had been very controlling as well, and he had broken with him as an adult to pursue his own path. I never really broke with my dad, I just sought to keep some distance between us so that I could be the independent thinker that he had taught me to be -- not realizing that would mean that I might disagree with him at times.

My ex-husband was extremely logical and seldom acted on his emotions. He was an introverted, shy  banker. My friend Liz, who knows us both, thinks I brought excitement, passion and creativity to his somewhat reclusive, dull life. 

Ultimately, however, I drove him crazy. He couldn't control me as he would have liked. I wasn't predictable in ways he would have liked me to be predictable. He wasn't the violent sort, but he would often grumble under his breath at me as he walked away and engage in passive-aggressive acts of rebellion. My dad was more actively aggressive. 

My ex-husband provided structure for my life...

From my point of view, my ex-husband provided some structure to my life that I was incapable of adding on my own. He forced me into a set sleeping and wake cycle, a set schedule of activity, and set expectations for food and other purchases. 

After my parents died, I suddenly had money of my own to spend, and I exercised my freedom in ways that irritated my husband greatly: I brought a van of my parents' furniture home to Canada with me; I had repairs and upgrades made to our old house; I bought musical instruments, music, cameras, books, clothes and other things to feed my creative passions, etc. My ex-husband began complaining that there was no longer any room for him in the house.

Thomas agreed that my things reflect my rebellion against my father's and ex-husband's controls. After my ex-husband left me, I indulged my freedom from his control by spending even more on music and books. He had fueled my insecurity by telling me that I looked too old and dressed in a dowdy manner. I tried to pick better clothes and even dyed my hair for a while to try to fit his image of what I should be. (The other woman he left me for was 22 years younger, so I couldn't match her youth. She was an exotic of two foreign cultures, so I couldn't match her cultural uniqueness. And I was going through menopause, not the greatest time of life to be fighting for the survival of one's marriage.)

[There is more to be told from Thomas's visit, but I need a break.]

"Little boxes on the hillside, and they're all made out of ticky-tacky..."

Pete Seeger sang a song about "little boxes made out of ticky-tacky." He was singing about the mass-produced housing and consumerism that took over America during the 1950s and '60s, but it sounds like a good description of the plastic containers that have taken over my house. I have temporarily assigned a huge pile of empty ones to my balcony.

My friend Elaine was horrified to learn that I had purchase about 40 large plastic shoebox-sized boxes for storing my shoes and computer parts. I stand by the purchase, but I realize that I do have too many plastic containers, so I have temporarily moved many of my empty ones out as I continue to declutter my living room, dining room, kitchen and basement. I am not ready to dispose of the extras yet, but they can sit on my balcony until I know which ones I want to keep.

I'm working alone till Sunday afternoon, when Elaine is coming over for a while. I am hoping to have some real progress to show her, but that means that I will need to stay focused tomorrow, so that I can get lots done. I hope to impress her -- although her standards and mine are probably quite different.

I'm absent minded but dementia free!

I had good news from my doctor this morning: I do not yet have dementia. As my scatter-brained-itis gets progressively worse, I was beginning to wonder. I scored 30 out of 30 on a dementia-screening test. I have fit the stereotype of the absent-minded professor all my life, so I suppose it is somewhat normal that my house reflects my scattered mind.

I had better get to bed now so that I can put in a full day's work tomorrow.

Catching up...

I have slacked off on blogging for the last few days, but I can now see that the blogging really helps me stay focused. My friend Elaine, who has been helping me some, has been away for several days, so I had the chance to try to do things on my own -- an essential goal. Blogging also helps reinforce the learning that happens as I work on decluttering and fighting my compulsive need to reacquire.

"A place for everything and everything in its place"

A problem that I have is deciding on a specific place for each thing, remembering where that place is and remaining consistent in storing that thing in its place. I struggle with that almost all the time.

Confession 1: For the most part, I have been good at managing my urge to reacquire. HOWEVER, I did make one typical overpurchase during the last few days. I bought about 40 shoebox-sized plastic bins to use in sorting my computer parts and shoes, and I don't regret my purchase. The boxes have worked out very well. I can imagine my daughter, friends, and mental health care workers rolling their eyes right now.  Hoarders love plastic containers and bins, and I have a true "hoard" of them. I'll post photos later to show how I have used these containers. 

Confession 2: I have kept a schedule some days and completely lapsed into chaos and bad practices on others. My sleep specialist, as well as just about everyone else in the world, would like for me to maintain a structured sleep-wake cycle for my own well-being and mental fitness. My mind doesn't tame so easily. 

Bad habit 1:  Poor sleep hygiene. This is the term the doctors use, and I hate it. It sounds like I am sleeping in a garbage pit, but it just means that I sleep and wake at different times almost every day.

Bad habit 2: Playing Solitaire or Sudoku on the computer. I don't know how to stop once I start. This seems like an innocent pleasure until 10 minutes of Solitaire turns into several hours of  Solitaire and gets in the way of a good night's sleep. How can I turn off the compulsive need to play one more game? (Luckily, I have no interest in gambling. My religious upbringing abhors gambling. I don't even play Bingo or buy lottery tickets.)

Bad habit 3: I may go without watching tv for weeks, and then watch episode after episode of a drama series downloaded from from Netflix in one night. Last night, I watched five episodes of The Forsyte Saga, Season 1. How can I parent myself to stop doing this? 

Background Noise (Emotion)

I adore my daughter and her partner. They light up my life. She announced a couple of months ago that they are planning to move to the BIG CITY, a frantic, nerve-wracking 75-minute drive over a scary freeway from this nice, quiet, family-friendly town. They have been living about a mile from me during the past two years. 

Of course, they are a very busy young couple as it is, and I rarely get to see them. My daughter says that that not seeing me often is somewhat my fault. She calls me a social butterfly. However, most of my friends my age, who are also mothers, know the real truth -- we often busy ourselves with social activities to try to fill the void left by the adult children when they have no time for their parents. We would drop our plans in an instant, for the most part, to spend some quality time with our adult children. 

My daughter will one day understand this, but probably not until she has adult children of her own. Right now, the two of them just have three cats. I call them my grand cats, and I miss the chance to spend time with them, too.

I, too, have lived in the BIG CITY, the place where my daughter grew up. However, it was always TOO BIG for me. A trip across town could take an hour or two in rush-hour traffic, especially when one is a nervous driver, like me, who avoids the scary freeway.

My beloved daughter is slipping away from me. That leaves me sad and feeling somewhat abandoned -- just as I did when she moved away for university and the BIG CITY at other times. It will be difficult to just drop by her place in the BIG CITY. I will have to brave the scary freeway or take the bus and city transit. (Luckily, I have 16 years of experience with the transit system, but it does complicate visits.)

I also worry that the move will damage the couple's relationship. Is her partner, a smaller town sort of guy, going to adjust to life in the BIG CITY? I feel a great affinity for both her partner and his parents: I am hoping this guy is THE ONE. He is a nice guy, and he will be good to her. That is important for her future.

Fear of new losses, frustration that I have no power to prevent them... 

One of my friends, a former teacher of mine from high school days, suggested that my hoarding was a "physical statement about the poverty of loss."

When my husband of 25 years left me eight to 10 years ago (He left and came home dozens of times.) prompted an emotional breakdown in me. The strong mother and wife because the nonfunctional maniac. I hurt and scared my daughter during this horrific time of my life. I was no longer the dependable mom that she could depend on. 

My hoarding, as a sign that I am not completely functioning, probably scares, exasperates and angers my daughter. I understand that, and I wish it were within my control to fix the problem. I am now actively, vociferously, courageously and fearfully reaching out for help, but she still doesn't feel comfortable in journeying with me through this battle. I had asked her to at least come over, now and then, to socialize with me -- or work on her own projects -- while I wage my battle. She refuses, and I feel anger, sadness, frustration, fear and loss.

I know that I need to build a world that doesn't depend on my daughter -- but isn't mutual dependence part of what a family is all about? I know that independence also must be there, too. But there must also be relationship -- journeying through suffering together to survive in this world.

Just the facts for now...

Note: This post was written on Saturday, April 27, 2013, but I wanted to let it sit a while before publishing it. Two people have criticized the blog's lack of emotional content. I have been thinking about that. This post doesn't address the emotion, but I will try to do that in future posts.

I have done both well and poorly over the past week, depending on the day and my mood. I was very anxious about dealing with the tax documents.

Kitchen -- The kitchen is crazy again, because I've been using it to sort hardware from the dining room and living room. (I'll post a photo when I have time.) However, I have continued to use the stove, microwave, sink and fridge and keep them fairly orderly. For the first time in months, I'm cooking and eating most of my meals at home.

Power Room-- I have removed all alien items and disinfected the sink, counter and toilet. I haven't a clue where to put all the cleaning tools (mops, bucket, broom, steam cleaner), waste baskets and cleaning products I have been storing in there. They are sitting in the hallway.
Counselling -- I had a difficult, but helpful, session with Thomas, the hoarding specialist at the local mental health association on Thursday. He is trying to nudge me to identify the emotions that prompt my clutter. He also led me through an exercise to help me get going with the accounting stuff. I had hit a roadblock.

Tom said that he had spoken to my doctor about my concerns that my cognitive functioning isn't quite right, so my physician may check me out when I next see her. I am scheduled to see her in the next week or two.

Visit from the Occupational Therapist  -- Kathy, the OT, visited on Friday. She noticed the hardware sorting station and accompanying mess in the kitchen, but she could see that I had made overall progress.

I delivered all my tax documents to the accountant! -- This is a major miracle. I used the steps Thomas and I worked out, plus a few extra. It took me all day -- after having worked at this for many other days in the past two years -- but my brain felt crippled and inept by day end.

I also picked up three gas royalty cheques that the accountant was holding for me. (She knows I tend to let them go stale, so she has the cheques going to her office instead of here. I found a stale cheque here Friday for about twelve hundred dollars -- I don't know if that has been replaced yet or not. Usually the monthly cheques are for a little more than a hundred. I'll write the drilling company a letter and send that cheque and a couple of other stale cheques I have. They usually send me a letter every now and then, asking me about the uncashed cheques.

(I know this must sound crazy. I really forget these cheques -- major absent-mindedness. I often carry them around in my purse until they are out of date -- and torn to shreds.)

Upstairs office -- I ransacked some of my piles of papers in the upstairs office in looking for more accounting papers -- and found a big stash. The office is a little crazier, but at least I got the documents out.

Basement exit and laundry room -- I swept up the mess on the floor in the laundry room and at the bottom of the stairs by the garage exit. This included sorting my shoes and putting them in pairs in plastic boxes on a small shelving unit. (Photo to come.) The huge bins I had been using there were too large for that entrance.

Backyard -- I uncovered some of my flower pots and cleaned up debris from the recent window installers in my unit. I planted more bulbs, now that it is finally spring.My brain and thinking ability were subfunctional today, too, but I got into cleaning tonight and I feel okay now.

Sleep -- I have two sleep disorders and use a CPAP machine for obstructive sleep apnea. I had been using an old machine that extremely noisy -- the newer one had been packed away for a trip. I finally got the new one working again, and the quiet was WONDERFUL. My sleep problems may be what is affecting my thinking ability and memory. 

I spent more time working the hallway and exit downstairs. I have more pairs of shoes than I realized. I seem to have four almost identical pairs of black loafers. I wear my shoes for years, but I will send some of these to charity. A couple of pairs are tight. I have all my "found" shoes sorted and stored in plastic boxes stacked in a shelf by the door. That is a HUGE improvement. I am often late arriving at events for want of a matching pair of shoes.

Found -- I just found  my health card and driver's license -- which had been missing for several weeks. I had thought that they were somewhere among the music, computer cables or other papers on the living room floor.

"Hoarding: Buried Alive" on TLC

I just watched an hour or more of short clips from "Hoarding: Buried Alive" on TLC. I am thankful that my problem with hoarding is not as severe as the problems illustrated in the clips, but I know that I must fight the problem now, while I have a chance for success. Life will only become more complicated as I age. I must use my remaining strength and intelligence to fight against this illness.

Setbacks...

Yesterday I was happy to have limited my weekly grocery purchases to less than $32. (I am trying to use up my remaining excess food before it goes stale.) I bought fresh herbs and vegetables, balsamic vinegar, cheese, buttermilk and a small quantity of beef.

Over the past few weeks, I had thrown out gallons of out-of-date salad dressings and condiments, so I had resolved to create small quantities of fresh dressings and marinades in the future, rather than buying prepared dressings and marinades. As one person, I just don't go through that much of the prepared stuff.

As soon as I arrived home, I started preparing a fresh salad and a pasta, meat and cheese dish. My dinner was looking good. But then it all went wrong. 

As usual, I had absentmindedly left open one of my cupboards -- the high one over my oven. I grabbed a step stool to retrieve a salad spinner from the top shelf. As I straightened up on the stool -- crack! -- my skull whacked the bottom of the open cupboard door. Oowww! Soon I was using towel after towel to soak up the blood flowing from the fresh inch-long gash on my head.

Of course, I couldn't see the gash to tell how superficial or deep it was, but I was sufficiently concerned about the injury to decide to sit down for a while.  I quickly finished heating a less-intricate version of the pasta dish and sat down to eat it. I stored the would-be salad in the fridge. 

A couple of hours later, my friends at flute choir told me that the wound was crusting over. They advised me to leave it alone. I was relieved -- it would have been a real irritation to have to go to the emergency room to get stitches. The gash hurt a little, but not a lot.

Tonight, however, I was feeling okay, so I finished making the dinner I started last night and washed my dishes from both meals. The meal tonight was good, and I enjoyed it -- although I am still picking away at the salad as I write this. The buttermilk dressing needs to marinate longer.

The taxman cometh...

I am two years behind in my tax filings. I probably don't owe much, since I haven't worked in the last two years, but I have been too distracted/immobilized by issues to get all my documents together.  My accountant is aware of my mental health issues and has been in contact with the government tax officials to notify them what is happening.

My priority assignment for several weeks -- and months -- has been to finish collecting my financial documents for my accountant. I have been working on this task for the last three years, but most of the time, I have been unable to deal with the task. Piles of mixed up papers cause me GREAT DISTRESS.  In the past, I have hired people to help me face my papers, but I didn't feel that I could do this with my current unemployment. 

Trying to sort my computer parts a couple of months ago started out as a way of avoiding going through my stacks of papers, which harbour my tax documents. Making decisions about computer parts is much easier than making decisions about paper. I have no emotional blocks in dealing with the computer parts.

I hoard information and paper

As a compulsive researcher and hoarder of information, I have way too much paper in my house at any time. Add in my problems with distraction, and both important and worthless papers are quickly scrambled together in an unfathomable mess. To sort them, I must make decisions about what to do with each piece of paper -- and I quickly get lost in the forest of detail.

Unlike some hoarders, I can recycle worthless bits of paper. I often fill my recycling bin with discarded paper. But I also often feel completely overwhelmed when sorting through and dealing with the important papers. Being a detail person, I get lost in the detail. Informational papers, personal papers, music, and financial papers all get scrambled together.

To reduce my paper use, I have tried to make electronic PDFs of many documents that I previously would have printed out. However, I have the same problem with PDFs as I do with physical items that are out of my sight: Out of sight, out of mind.

The worsening of my issues

I have felt my anxiety and depression worsening over the past two years. Two years ago,  I left a job that had become a bad fit to return to school to study digital media. I finished the course, dealt with some minor but irritating physical issues and then tried to re-enter the job market. 

I am intelligent, well-educated and have good skills, but, at 61, I don't seem to appeal to potential employers as I once did. I never expected to be unemployed at this point in my life. I am currently very worried about my financial future. That anxiety has fuelled my compulsive acquisition of books, software, courses, cameras and hardware that I hope might help me find a job. 

When will I be gotWhen will I be good enough to get a job? When will I have the right combination of assets it takes to find employment? Some would say that I should quit battering myself on these points. I feel guilt and shame that I have been unable to translate my up-to-date skills into paid employment. And to top that off, I have been busying myself with volunteer work to the point of craziness. And the volunteer work often isn't even appreciated, leading to more stress.

Crippling indecision...

In dealing with this stress, I am now having a great deal of difficulty making decisions about ANYTHING. Tom, one of the mental health professionals helping me, says that it is to be expected that my current decluttering efforts would bring up feelings of unresolved grief. After all, hoarding is often a response to grief, as I have mentioned previously.

Tom and I discussed the feelings my cleanup effort had brought to the surface. I talked about the anxiety I feel about my various commitments to myself and others. Tom listed these -- eight in total -- and asked me to prioritize them. Then he had me weight them by allocating a total of 25 points between the eight commitments. To my surprise, I assigned the bulk of the points to three of the commitments and none to the bottom three.

My top concern was collecting my tax documents for my accountant.

A plan for dealing with the financial documents

Tom suggested that we use this weighting of priorities in creating a plan of attack for getting past my current roadblock with the financial documents. Together we brainstormed about the problem and came up with this action plan:

1. Go through the remaining few unexamined piles of papers to remove all bank statements, pharmacy receipts, and hardware and software receipts. (Ignore all other papers for now.)
2. Mark deductible receipts on my bank statements and invoices.
3. Make a spreadsheet listing all of these expenses by type and year.
4. Sort the physical invoices into folders by year.
5. Deliver the information to my accountant.

I'll let you know how this plan goes.

Why I write...

Several people have asked me why I am writing this blog.

As a writer, I often write to try to figure things out for myself: Why do I do this? Can I stop doing it? Can I learn new habits? Writing forces one to reflect on one's thoughts and actions.

I also hope to explain to others, including my beloved daughter, professional organizers and mental health professionals, why there isn't a simple cure to this problem, solved by medications, lectures, threats, blackmail or, as in the television show Hoarding, massive clean outs and culls.

The problem is rooted in anxiety, depression, loss, learned behaviour, personality, genetics, compulsions and habit. The solution, like the problem, must be multi-faceted and long-term, and even then, may fail to achieve a cure. I would be happy with harm reduction -- controlling the problem to the point that I can live safely. It would be a super bonus if I could control the problem to the point of again sharing my space with others.

Stasis...

Stasis is a state of equilibrium or inactivity, created by opposing, equal forces -- or,  in pathology, a stagnation of fluids due to an obstruction.

Yesterday was difficult for me. I stayed up very late Monday night, playing Solitaire on my computer. This is a response to anxiety. I am not sure why I was so anxious, but I was supposed to be collecting my financial documents for the accountant -- a task I find stressful. However, I had just had a joyful evening with friends.

After the lack of sleep, I found myself restless and unable to concentrate yesterday. My stomach was upset, my head was hurting, etc. (I have irritable bowel syndrome (IBS), a problem caused by stress. IBS results in diarrhea or constipation. In me, it is always the former. I will never die from IBS, but it will periodically rob me of productive time and complicate my life.)

However, that was yesterday. Today is a new day. My stomach is still upset, but I have taken medication and will soldier on. I look forward to two meetings with others today -- two chances to share my humanity with friends. Most of my stress comes from isolation. I am an extrovert.

This is a starting point

A starting point is a place from which explorations and forays into the unknown are attempted, documented and mapped.

Homework for this week...

As I continue to work alone on my kitchen, I have several other homework assignments: Collect the rest of my tax documents and get them to the accountant. Ask a friend who doesn't drive if he will share grocery shopping duties with me. I will ask him to police my purchases in exchange for a ride to the grocery store.

Maintaining my focus...

I was glad to see Kathy, the visiting occupational therapist, on Friday. I wanted to show her my again-chaotic kitchen, despite my continuing efforts at cleaning. "Is something wrong with my brain?" I asked her.  She said that she felt I was just overwhelmed by the continuing overabundance of stuff. She recommended a more drastic cull. Elaine, having read my last post, said much the same thing.

Kathy could see good progress, but she could understand my concern that Elaine would feel that I was backsliding. The counters were again covered as I worked to fit everything into the cabinets.

Since Elaine's last visit, I had been trying to work my way through the bins of food and nonfood items that we had collected from the counters, sinks and floor when we first started the kitchen cleanup. To put the counter stuff away in cabinets, however, has meant having to cull through excess items INSIDE the cabinets, so that there would be room for everything. In integrating the counter stuff into the cabinets, I realized that I had recreated the chaos of before.

I had, however, taken several carloads of things away and filled several city bins for recycling, landfill and composting.

I was feeling depressed about it, fully realizing the scale of my problem again. Neither Kathy nor Elaine were surprised, however. Both told me they felt that it was the sheer quantity of excess stuff that was proving a barrier to my success. Both women urged me to pare down even more dramatically.

I'm not sure that I am ready to be a minimalist. I still have visions of having large gatherings of family or friends for dinners -- as I did in the past, before my resident family downsized from three to one.  My mother, a product of the Depression followed by a comfortable middle-class lifestyle, had a well-stocked kitchen, and I have followed her lead in stocking mine well, too.

I have warned Kathy and Elaine that I may need to downsize in stages. I don't think I can do it in one fell swoop. Meanwhile, I have been working hard to take away what excess stuff I can part with -- while not bringing in new items.

More work on the kitchen with Elaine...

Elaine came over to help in the kitchen again for about three hours. She helped me empty out another pile of expired soup and juice cartons and otherwise clear the sink. Together, we freed up some other areas.

Her instinct was to put more bins of stuff on the balcony again, to free up more space for sorting in the kitchen. I resisted, however. I had to wash everything that sat on the balcony for several days a week ago. Most had collected dust and dirt. Some items were ruined by moisture. I am still struggling to finish some of the items -- hardware that will eventually go to the basement.

The table, however, is now partially clear to use as a sorting area. I am sorting hardware and office items there, bringing them in from the dining room and living room as I find them.

The struggle and the fine balance...

Of course, I realize that Elaine's instincts to push me to do more NOW are probably completely right and necessary, but sometimes I need to slow down the pace of change to deal with the anxiety that change causes in me.

This doesn't mean that I don't appreciate Elaine's suggestions or her generous offer of help. And I may later decide to do EXACTLY as she and Kathy have suggested. However, sometimes I just need time to adjust to the change. Luckily, Elaine will be away all this week, so I will be continuing to work on this on my own for a while. I  can try to solve the challenges I face in my own way -- and have time to think about her suggestions. Can I truly do with much less stuff?

Why do I have so much hardware, tools and manuals?

Just as my mother influenced my kitchen-stocking habits, my do-it-yourself dad influenced my hardware and tool habits and thinking patterns. He was an electrical supervisor with a degree in Industrial Education. He had grown up on a farm and had learned, by necessity, to fix just about anything. But fixing things became a passion for my dad. To support his passion, he purchased SEVERAL of every possible kind of tool and manual required to do anything he wanted to do.

I have never approached his expertise with tools, but I did inherit his mindset. I have always enjoyed reading manuals and how-to books, even if I ended up hiring a professional to do the job. At least I would know about the possible challenges or problems the professional might encounter. (As a technical writer, I have written a number of "how-to" books, mostly about software manuals.)

One of my dad's most endearing traits was his determination to be absolutely fair in his gifts to my brother and me. That meant that we both got identical tool sets, lamps, vacuum cleaners, knives, tv sets, and so on as Christmas gifts. He gifted us equally. (As a younger brother, my dad felt that his father had shown preference to his older brother in purchasing clothes and shoes. He was determined not to make that mistake with the two of us.)

Daddy also encouraged both of us to take all the science and math courses we could in school -- and made sure that we had science kits and books. He had wanted to become an engineer, but he had stumbled over Differential Equations. Because he felt that I could master the higher math, he encouraged me to study engineering. When I studied English and Journalism instead, he was disappointed.

However, Daddy would have liked it that I later became a technical writer. Like my dad, I have always been passionate about technology, so the shift to technical writing was not unusual. In my late 50s, I picked up a diploma in Information Technology. If my dad had been born a few decades later, he, too, would have become a computer geek. Unfortunately, by the time that personal computers had begun to take over modern life, my dad had developed Alzheimer's.

Daddy himself wasn't a very patient teacher -- in fact, he could become quite irritated with the two of us when he coerced into helping him with one project or another. It wasn't that we weren't smart -- he was just a perfectionist. My brother and I both regret that we didn't absorb more of our dad's mechanical and electrical skills over the years. We could have found great use for those skills.

Like my father, I often purchase multiples of certain tools, partly to be prepared, and partly because I forget where a particular tool is when I need it. I am also a compulsive buyer of how-to manuals. Whether because of distraction or attention deficit, I am very absent minded and constantly lose things -- just like my dad. This isn't just an age thing. I constantly lost or misplaced things throughout my teen years.

After Elaine left this afternoon, I managed to spend several hours sorting through some of the hardware bits and pieces. I am thankful that there is now room on the kitchen table for sorting items.

Semi-scrambled computer parts

Earlier this afternoon, I managed to empty out some space in the kitchen hallway that had been used for storing kitchen items. Now I am temporarily using the space to store about a dozen containers of computer parts, on their way from my living room to eventual storage in the basement. (I had been using the open space in the middle of the living room in recent months to sort the computer parts. Again, I have way too many. I need to inventory what is there, though, before I can decide what stays and what is sent for recycling.)

I have already sorted most of these by type, but some of them have become scrambled by interruptions in my routine. Music books, office supplies, and papers have been scrambled in. Also -- alas! -- I discovered several more bins of computer parts in the basement last week. Luckily, those parts are mostly older cables and hardware that I probably should recycle. Earlier today, I dropped a dead scanner and ink cartridge off at a recycling depot.

Exploding cans of food, expanding messes...

The chaos phenomenon -- I am feeling challenged and discouraged tonight. My kitchen looks almost as bad as it did when Elaine and I first started our work a week ago. How do I swirl and churn sorted items into chaos so quickly? At least we've carted bushels of stuff out of here, but there is still so much left -- and I've scrambled it again.

As I have tried to put away the assorted stuff we had collected from the counters, table and floor, I've been pulled into other messes. As I open each of my cabinet doors, I am trying to remove excess items for recycling or move to another location. These, too, have ended up recluttering my counters and floors, if I can't immediately find a place for them.

I'm also still struggling to sort the nonkitchen items and prepare them for transport to where they belong. For example, I've started several containers of items intended for the basement -- bicycle parts, pest control items, hardware bits and pieces, tools, etc.

I took photos of my new chaos, but I am too ashamed to post them. I did show them to one of the mental health professionals who is trying to help me. I told him: My father died from Alzheimer's Disease at age 75 -- and he began showing signs of his illness when he was about my age. Could I be experiencing early signs of dementia?

The health professional promised to see about testing me for signs of early dementia. I have already passed some of the simple dementia and memory tests. Later, I tried some additional tests I found online. I seemed disgustingly normal. Does my problem with putting things away result of anxiety, chronic disorganization or some other cognitive impairment?

Exploding cans of food -- Tonight I started trying to put away some canned food we had collected from the counters -- those we had decided to keep. However, when I looked into the appropriate storage cabinet, I found a black mess: A can of tomatoes and a can of pineapple, from two different manufacturers, had both exploded. The explosion had blackened the cans' labels and sprayed black droplets onto the cabinet and shelf liner. 

Immediately, I went to my computer to search the Internet for "exploding cans of food." 

What did I learn? While an exploding can of a fruit or vegetables can be a fairly benign sign of improperly processed, transported or stored food, showing chemical activity and gas production, it can also be a sign of a more serious problem like botulism contamination. 

Fearing the latter, I went into decontamination mode and cleaned out the shelf, its contents and environs with a bleach and water mixture, protecting myself from exposure with an apron and rubber gloves. Even after bleaching, the shelf liner and the contaminated area in the cabinet remained stained with a blackish red stain. The shelf liner is still soaking in bleach water, but I have decided to dispose of the it, and I have repeatedly coated the stain on the cabinet with bleach water.

I read online that botulism can spread to humans through spore exchange in the air, but I had nothing to use in protecting myself from breathing in such spores. I don't know how long botulism spores live.  The cans' contents  had dried out inside, the fruit reduced to some dry, solid chunks. I decided to throw out all of the surrounding cans of the same items from the same manufacturer and any others that looked suspiciously swollen. I rinsed off all the other cans in the bleach water.

I sealed all of the exploded and suspicious cans inside two sets of plastic bags for landfilling. That was what the food safety sources I found on the Internet recommended.

I now smell strongly of bleach. 

Today I smell like curry mayo and rotting food...

Finishing cleanout of the fridge

I spent several hours finishing my cull of food from the fridge today, then I refilled the fridge and took my "after" photos. After adding the last of my recycling, landfill and compost items to the city bins in my garage, I rolled two of the bins out to the street for city pickup early tomorrow.

Finally, I took a bath and changed to remove the smell of curry mayo and rotting food from my skin and clothes.

How can I do better with the fridge in the future? -- I often forget what I have in the fridge and ALWAYS buy too much. The fridge becomes clogged with items. I want to try posting all the current food in the fridge on the door, so that I can check items off as I use them. That should help me keep a better idea of what food items I need to restock.

Note: The "before" photo doesn't show the detail of food spilled on the floor of the cabinet. It was a mess. Also, I purchased the milk and yogurt shown in the "after" photo after taking the "before" photo. However, there was no room for them in the fridge until after the cull.

"Before" fridge cabinet and door

"After" fridge cabinet

"After" fridge door

Sorting nonfood items on the balcony

Before the smelly, messy work with the decaying and out-of-date food, I had spent several hours sorting through nonfood items that Elaine had stored temporarily on my balcony. Before leaving my house on Sunday, she had charged me with trying to find more items for the church garage sale by Friday, the deadline for the sale. So far I haven't had a lot of lucky with this assignment.

Culling this collection was TOUGH. I have quite a collection of plasticware, some of it brand new. What do I cull? My initial thought is to cull some brands of the plasticware but keep the others. I agree that I have too many -- I had recently purchased a number of tempered glass containers to replace some of the plasticware. I have several more bins of plasticware (currently stored in my living room) that I need to look through before making up my mind.

I also had hardware and bicycle items in this collection on my balcony. These belong in the basement, not in the kitchen, but I have temporarily stored these items in my dining room, where I have been collecting some other items for the basement.

I found an old scanner in the stuff on the balcony, which I will take it to one of the local electronic recycling depots. (Sellers of electronic devices in Canada now have to offer electronic recycling services.) I also found several packages of batteries, which I have transferred into a plastic box for storage.

A lot of the things I sorted today are still not in their intended home, either in the kitchen or elsewhere. I hope that I can get them to their homes before they get churned back into the kitchen.

This stuff is now sorted, washed and back in the kitchen,  but I still need
to make decisions about what will happen to these items.

Some people churn milk, but I churn stuff

One of my worst habits is to temporarily move stuff around and then, becoming distracted and losing my focus, leave it in a new, completely inappropriate place. Quickly, everything in my home can become churned into different rooms on different floors. This is typical of many hoarders, particularly those with attention disorders. As I mentioned earlier, my doctor doesn't think I have ADD, but I am definitely absent minded. One would find a strange assortment of treasures, abandoned food and dishes, and completely worthless junk in any small  area you might pick in my house. I am not aware of doing this. (My adult daughter often scolds me for this behaviour, but it has been with me all my life.)

I often have very good focus on whatever I am currently thinking about -- but I often don't pay much attention to other things going on around me. This isn't an age thing -- my mother took me to a hearing specialist when I was a teenager, thinking that I had a hearing problem. The doctor asked me, "What is your problem?" and I replied, "My mother thinks I have a hearing problem." He tested my hearing and confirmed that it was normal. I am just really good at tuning out other activities besides those I am focusing on. People often startle me when I am working away at my computer, because I am completely focused on my current project.

Time: 8 hours, 1 person

Attacking the fridge

With the help of my friend Elaine, I finally tackled the fridge today. What a disaster! I initially told Elaine that I thought I had cleaned out the fridge as recently as last summer. Not so. The "Best Before" dates of items in the fridge told us that it was probably the summer of 2011. No, I think I did at least a mini-cleanup last summer or fall.

"Before" photo of inside of fridge

We filled several gallon-sized bags with compost material and poured several dozen bottles of salad dressings, syrups and sauces down the drain. I had purchased multiples of most common condiments. The experience was illuminating. Most bottles contain about 500 ml -- about two cups -- of liquid. As a single person living alone, this is WAY TOO MUCH for me to reasonably use before the usual best before date. Does anyone sell seasonings, sauces and dressings in smaller quantities? Do I need to just make small amounts myself instead of purchasing large bottles that I will never finish?

This is all I can write tonight. I'll pick up on this tomorrow. I smell like salad dressing after basting in it for several hours while cleaning out the fridge. I think I'll take a bath. I post the "after" photo tomorrow. I still have some stuff to go through before I can consider myself finished.

Time -- 2 people, 3 hours + 4 hours more for me

Trying not to buy...

I took another car load of excess acquisitions to a local charity today. I also needed groceries, but I came armed with a shopping list. With the list, I was able to keep my grocery purchases to $38 -- much less than I normally spend for a week's groceries. I have been eating a lot of the excess  food that Elaine and I have collected from my kitchen over the past week -- and trying to cook items in my overloaded freezer and refrigerator.

Decluttering my house is not only an exercise in recycling or otherwise disposing of excess possessions. It also means curbing my compulsion to buy items. Since I live alone with my two cats, shopping has become a pleasurable activity for being around other people. I need to find another activity that isn't so counterproductive.

'I am many things, but I am not a hoarder'

A social worker friend corrected me when I told her this week that I was a hoarder. "You are a woman of many talents. You are many things, but you are not a hoarder. You just have a hoarding problem."

I feel shame for the compulsive acquisitions and the extraordinary clutter, but she is right in that I am many things. It is hard to keep the positive in mind when the negative is choking my living space. Elaine likens it to a heart with severely clogged arteries.

Elaine offered to come over to help me today, but I had other jobs to do and was feeling tired. Decluttering and not acquiring is hard work for someone dealing with anxiety issues. I wonder at times how I will ever accomplish what I need to accomplish. At the least, I want to make my home safer, to reduce the potential harm to myself and others.

Enjoying the fruits of our labour

Home-cooked meal from newly clean stovetop

We still have a lot of work to do on my kitchen, but I am already enjoying the fruits of our labour: a clean place to cook, eat and clean, and a fairly clear path across the kitchen floor. I have been cooking, eating and cleaning in my kitchen since about Day 3 of our cleanup effort.

I still haven't tackled the decaying food in the refrigerator or the filthy floor, but I'll get to those in time. I also still have bins full of sorted excess food that needs to be eaten, disposed of or stored. I am choosing foods out of those for my meals.

The bins of sorted excess nonfood items are still on my balcony. The tarp covering them is now covered with a sheet of ice. We had an ice storm overnight.

I have other chores to complete before I can continue this journey. Elaine thinks I should post updated photos of the stove, sink, and table -- and I will. I just need to take care of some other responsibilities first.

Clean, clutter-free stovetop allows me to cook again

Note -- Friends, thank you for your comments via Facebook or email. Your input is helping me shape this blog -- and learn from it. If you see typos or other errors, let me know. Even a good writer needs a good editor, and I don't have one for this blog. I often my mistakes later and try to clean them up, but I can't wait for perfection before publishing. Perfection never comes. As a professional writer, I learned that years ago.

The poverty of life after loss

A friend reading my blog immediately saw through my masses of things to the underlying essence. She wrote: "By hoarding, you are making a physical statement about the poverty of life after loss. I am glad you have someone to help you clear it. Isn't that the point really? Having someone to share loss and joy?"

My problems with collecting and acquiring remained somewhat under control as long as I had someone here at home to share my losses and joys.

Then my parents died, my ex-husband left for another woman and my daughter left for university. My brother, my other close relative, remains too far away. (Dear, complex person that he is, my brother and I are so much alike that we often drive each other crazy.) Where is my incentive to clean up my home or control my purchases, when one is here to share my losses and joys? Any potential romantic partners are frightened away by the clutter blocking the door. I seem to be stuck here, alone, in my cluttered cave. However, to be fair, my daughter describes me as a virtual social butterfly. I delight in my friends and activities OUTSIDE my home. It is only here, at home, that I feel isolated and alone.

Trauma often tips people into hoarding behaviour

Many hoarders point to major life traumas as the beginning of their complete loss of acquisition control. The death of my mother in March 2000 was one of the first of several major traumas in my life. My brother and I had to make several extremely difficult decisions regarding her end-of-life care. She had been the moral and emotional anchor for my family. Her death left a huge void for both of us.

I brought back a van load of memories from my parents' house. My ex-husband, who is a minimalist, was floored -- and protested vehemently. I was in deep mourning, and he interpreted my vacant stares (from dealing with my grief) as lack of interest or respect for him. Within a few years, he had begun an intimate relationship with a co-worker.

His affair and eventual abdication was my second major whammy. I went into a major depression.

Unfortunately, the affair and marital breakup came at the same time as my daughter's graduation from high school and leaving for university. Suddenly the three-legged stool that I often used as a metaphor for my family was horribly off balance and broken. Kirstin was not home to share my grief over the loss of the marriage. In fact, my sudden weakness frightened her. I had been the strong one in the family, but now I was weak, almost helpless, with grief and depression.

It was a difficult time for both my daughter and me -- and probably for my ex-husband as well. (He has since married the other woman and moved out of the country.)

Acceptance of loss and move to a new home

Seven years ago, I accepted the reality of my loss of partner/lover and removed myself from the scene of the disaster. I have rebuilt my life, but I still mourn the loss of that three-legged stool of a family that meant so much to me. I felt that my heart had been torn, still beating, out of my chest. The area is healing, but at times, it is still aches.

I have worked hard to re-establish myself in this new place, which has been wonderful from the very beginning. I have many new friends, a wonderful new church and a new "normal" that is mostly pleasant. I have added many new skills to my repertoire and tried to create the "me" that I want and hope to be. But I still grieve the loss of the three-legged stool that was my treasure.

Comfort Food

Often I have purchased food, music, books, gadgets and other possessions for comfort. I have tried to purchase perceived solutions to my problems. None of these purchases, however, gave me someone to share my joys and sorrows with. They were just hollow substitutes. I know that, intellectually, but that doesn't stop my drive to acquire.

The acquisitions became compulsive -- or maybe they were always compulsive.

(I realize this post sounds very sad and negative, but I will fashion a new, more upbeat reality that represents my healing self. I am just sharing the depth of despair that prompted the worst of the problem. Luckily, I also have a good sense of humour.)

More, more, more...

Work on decluttering the kitchen and removing excess items 

Two people, 3 hours -- Elaine helped me march more boxes of stuff and bags of recycling, landfill and compost out the door this morning. Actually, Elaine did most of the marching and climbing (of stairs) while I tried to fill up boxes and bags for her. Our church rummage sale is at the end of this month, so part of today's disposals were to the church for the sale. We have strayed a bit from the kitchen, trying to clear excess books from the living room and excess linens and clothing from elsewhere.

Elaine would have liked for me to send "maybe giveaway" stuff to the church for temporary storage, but I balked. My brain seems scattered enough as it is, and I find it very stressful to have the items I haven't made up my mind about out of my sight.

Common Hoarder Traits

Out of sight, out of mind -- One typical hoarder trait is the strong need to SEE one's possessions, for fear of losing or forgetting them. I find it very difficult to store items behind closed doors. I fear that I will forget that they exist -- and I often do. I will buy the same item over and over again because I have forgotten that I already have it.

Distractibility -- Attention Deficit Disorder sometimes results in topsy-turvy piles of unrelated items. My doctor doesn't believe that I have ADD -- I would have shown signs of it as a child -- but I am easily distracted from many tasks (cleaning, picking up, chatting with others) while able to concentrate very carefully on others (writing, photography, painting, designing, working on the computer) for long periods of time.

Different ways of seeing possessions -- Specialists who work with hoarders say that their clients tend to view possessions somewhat differently than the average person. I know that I feel responsible for an item that I have purchased or acquired and feel very badly if I let it go to waste -- which I sometimes do because of absentmindedness or forgetfulness. I find it much easier to donate excess items to charity or another good home than to recycle them, and much easier to compost something than to landfill it. I feel very guilty about landfilling items.

Emotional attachments to stuff -- Specialists say that some hoarders have excess emotional attachments to stuff, but I'm not sure that I do. As with most people, it bothers me to throw away family photos or mementos, but I don't feel that I am unduly sentimental. I think my larger concern is wasting an item or otherwise not using it as intended.

Creativity -- Hoarders often think of unusual or creative uses for an item. In Myers-Briggs terminology, I have an ENFP personality -- extroverted, intuitive, feeling and perceiving. I see the world in terms of multiple possibilities and choices. Creativity helps me as a writer, photographer, designer and musician, but I am sometimes overwhelmed by the many options I perceive. In deciding what to do about my many things, I worry: Is this choice really the best, or should I consider another? Because of uncertainty, I often delay making a decision.

Anxiety and Perfectionism -- Hoarding is considered a side effect of an anxiety disorder. Depression may also be involved. Some hoarders have obsessive-compulsive traits and elements of perfectionism.

I do not have Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD), a full-blown anxiety disorder, but I do have some obsessive-compulsive traits. For example, I decided several years ago, while taking a course in Microsoft Access, that I needed to create a full-blown database of my music, so that I could instantly find any book or item of sheet music I wanted from my thousands of items of music. I worked for weeks on the database, but I eventually gave up on it -- and my music is now scattered throughout the three floors of my house. Perhaps if I had attempted something simpler, instead of something elaborate, I would have completed my project. As it is, I failed in a big way.

I have also changed my mind several times about how best to store the music -- in magazine holders? in bins? in binders? in filing cabinets? The many options tripped me up. The music is now stored, in bits and pieces, in each of these storage media -- completely inconsistently. That bothers me, too, because, as an editor, I like consistency.

Not all obsessive-compulsive traits are bad, however. Technical writers and editors need to have some obsessive-compulsive traits -- and most do. I think it is those traits that make me a good writer and editor. However, these traits can be a pain in the ass in other endeavours. It is sometimes hard for me to avoid going into overdrive when a "good enough" attitude is preferable. A former boss used to tell me, "Kay, just give me 90 percent today -- I don' have time for perfection."

Sometimes I overlook the simple way to do something, seeing only the "best" way to do it.

Medication -- Medication won't cure hoarding. However, medication for anxiety and depression may help someone with an anxiety disorder to manage her anxiety responses more effectively. I have been on the minimum therapeutic dose of a common antidepressant/anti-anxiety drug for a number of years. However, with unemployment and the worsening of my clutter/hoarding problems, I recently concluded, in consultation with my doctor, that I needed to increase my dosage of the medication. With the help of both Elaine and the increased medication, I am now making progress. A week ago, I felt overwhelmed and unable to accomplish anything. Now I am moving forward!

Finding the Right Coach

The personalities of the hoarder and the person coaching her for clean up are bound to differ: What makes me good at hoarding is naturally at odds with what mades another person good at helping me cleanup and declutter. Therefore, I must recognize that there will be some necessary and normal tension with anyone who helps me clean up. However, I think there are ways to minimize conflict. And thankfully, my friend Elaine has been brilliant so far in her approach to helping me. I will try to define these traits over time. However, I will mention a few important traits.

Trust -- As I mentioned previously, a hoarder often feels a sense of responsibility for her stuff, however jumbled and excessive it may seem. The hoarder needs to feel that the coach is respectful of her possessions and will help her accomplish decluttering without doing further harm to the person's anxiety levels. If someone starts pitching my possessions indiscriminately, I feel violated and angry.

I don't feel that I am overly emotional about my things, but I am extremely anxious about some things:

• I like to get all an item's parts together before making a decision about disposition of it.
• I like to collect, sort and use small items like paper clips, nails, screws, change, buttons, and so on -- instead of just pitching them.
• I do have a sentimental attachment to family photos and letters.
• I sometimes jot down important information on paper or keep printouts of information I will need in the future and fear that I will forget. The coach needs to let me decide whether notes or printouts are ready for recycling. I am not someone who collects meaningless bits of paper.

Assertive, but not a Bulldozer -- In seeking help, I am looking for someone who can suggest a solution when I feel stuck and don't know what to do. I do not, however, want that person to make decisions for me about disposing of items. I have welcomed Elaine's thoughtful, positive and creative suggestions and plans for my kitchen -- as well as her willingness to accept my reservations about some ideas.

On my own

Progress -- At 2 a.m., I managed to get my recycling and compost bins out for city pickup. Then I went to bed and slept till about 10 a.m. I struggle to fight my natural tendency to be a night owl.

For breakfast, I ate part of an extremely stale bowl of cereal before deciding to compost it. Elaine and I have collected a huge plastic bin full of cereals over the past few days. Obviously some will need to be thrown out.

Today, working alone, I have cleaned all of the counters and the stove top and burners with soap, water and elbow grease. I have also washed tons of stuff in the sink -- now that I can access the sink! I also wiped off my small appliances and rearranged them. I hung six hooks over the sink to hold various cleaning utensils. I cleaned and sorted pots and pans storage area.

Finally, I cooked a tofu stir fry on a burner on my now clean stove. It was good and healthy -- and there is enough left over for a second meal.

I poured out a number of out-of-date protein and green supplements. I have ten jillion tea bags in every imaginable flavour, but I don't know what to do about them. Eventually, I donated the unopened packages to the local food bank.

Work in other rooms -- I have been washing clothes and linens and placing those suitable for recycling in bags for charity. I have started more boxes of books for recycling.

Mood -- This is becoming more difficult. It is easy to part with some things, but I am having trouble with others. Some are brand new items that I haven't yet used. Others were my mother's and I feel an attachment to them. I have many versions of some items -- colanders, strainers, cutting boards -- but I am having trouble getting rid of some of the extras. I think I may need to do this in stages.

Elaine sent me her dream description of my kitchen -- and a tea party with my daughter. It sounds wonderful, but I fear it is beyond my reach. I think Elaine mentioned having all of my counters clear of items. I don't think I can do that.

I wanted to clean out the refrigerator tonight, but my energy has disappeared. That job will have to wait. It is useless to mop the floor until after I have cleaned out the refrigerator.

Lost Treasure Found -- On Day 1, I found my iPhone at the bottom of a basket of dirty (or clean?) clothes. On Day 2, we found an unwashed gas royalty cheque for $400. On Day 3, we found a camera battery and memory card. I still need to find my driver's license and health card, but I think they are underneath a pile of computer parts and papers in the living room.

"Your kitchen is still appalling, but it is not quite so appalling"

Two people, 1.5 hours -- Elaine admitted today that the cleanup of my kitchen is not going as quickly as she anticipated. She had underestimated the astounding quantity of stuff cluttering my kitchen. We succeeded in clearing the stove and about half of the kitchen counters today.

Some of these things we uncovered are already packed and ready to go to charity, but others are stored in plastic bins on my balcony and on the kitchen table for further work. Essentially, we've mainly just SORTED the bits and pieces. We still need to find storage place for them -- or else dispose of them. The items in my cupboards are fairly well organized, but the cupboards are full. I must find find new homes for some of the items.

My hoarding behaviour in the kitchen concerns food, utensils, kitchen gadgets, and dishes. I have multiples of everything. Am I afraid of going without -- or just anxious to "be prepared"?

Food -- I buy entirely too much food, forget that I've purchased it, and then let it hang around too long. As a single person, I tend to avoid cooking. And when I do cook, I often refuse to eat the meal. I stock lots of canned, powdered, liquid and frozen meals. And many hang around until after their expiry dates.

Example of my excess purchases -- Elaine and I collected more than a dozen bags of cough drops in the kitchen alone. I probably have more upstairs. We collected a bushel-sized bin of cereals and almost a bushel of tea bags.

Bin of ready-to-eat foods collected from kitchen counters 

Purchases -- I purchased two packages of large bin liners for my green compost bin. I have liners, but I haven't been able to find them. Elaine wanted to know why I had bought two packages instead of just one. Years of habit and an underlying concern about getting caught without something, I suppose.

I know that I buy too much, but this is a difficult habit to break. Elaine suggested that I pair with a friend for weekly grocery shopping -- one who will see that I don't buy too much of anything. I am planning to with a friend without a car would be willing to take on that duty in exchange for a weekly ride to the grocery store.

Homework -- Elaine gave me a to-do list. She won't be back till Wednesday a.m. Thursday I will be on my own. I can't believe how lucky and blessed I am that she has been willing to help me so far.

My to-do list from Elaine

Reward for good work -- Elaine also brought me a treat this morning for brunch -- a lovely bowl of yogurt and fresh fruit. I now have space at my kitchen table to sit down and enjoy it!

Elaine's treat for me

We make slow progress on the kitchen...

Progress Report

I want to recap Elaine's and my work so far -- at least as well as I remember it:

Friday, April 5 (2 hours, 2 people) -- Elaine toured my house with me, to get an overview of the magnitude of my problem. We agreed to start work on Saturday on the kitchen, which had become a real problem during the last several weeks. (I have had a minor, but exhausting, respiratory infection that has left me coughing for weeks.) I had decaying fruit and vegetables and fruit flies.

Elaine cheerfully announced that fruit flies only live three days and predicted their quick demise once we removed the decaying fruit.

She let me know from the start that her interest in helping me clean would evaporate if I didn't commit to keeping the improvements going after she left. I appreciate her honesty. She has set a good boundary.

Truthfully, I feel amazed, thankful and ashamed by Elaine's offer of help. I feel ashamed of my inability to deal with my hoarding/clutter problem on my own. Also, knowing my past problems with consistency, I fear the possibility of failure. None the less, I appreciate her willingness to give me a chance.

I like having Elaine as a helper. She is kind, upbeat, innovative, and straight forward. She makes her difficult points about areas for improvement in a matter of fact, nonjudgmental way. She has creative ideas about how we can make the cleanup fun and effective.

We are hoping to exchange labour. Elaine says that she may call on me to give her daughter flute lessons in exchange for her assistance with my cleanup.

Saturday, April 6 (2 people, 2.5 hours) -- My friend Elaine and I took "before" photos of the kitchen and began trying to sort items and clear working space. We filled a number of recycling, compost and landfill bags, which we emptied into city bins in my garage.

We ran a load of dishes in the dishwasher and washed some dishes by hand. By the time Elaine left, the sink area of my kitchen was clear.

Afterward -- I soon refilled the sink with dishes. Guelph has hard water, and my dishwasher, in conjunction with my water softener, doesn't remove soap scum well, so I had to rinse a number of clean dishes that that came out of the dishwasher and leave them out to dry in the dish rack.

I also washed and hung two loads of clothes. This included some comforters I plan to donate to charity.

Later in the afternoon, I attended an open house at the Muslim Society of Guelph, which last year opened a mosque near my house. There I met a young non-Muslim ESL teacher who was THRILLED to take several hundred dollars worth of new, unused ESL books from me. She is planning to share the ESL booty with other teachers at St. George's ESL School.

Afterward, I delivered another four boxes of books and four bags of clothes to a local charity.

Sunday, April 7 (2 people, 3.5 hours) -- We sorted food and other items into a number of plastic bins and temporarily stored the nonfood items on my balcony. After finally clearing my kitchen table, I was able to wash it with soap and water before we moved the bins of food items back in for the night. We emptied several more bags of compost, landfill and recycling material into the city bins in my garage, and I was able to fill another couple of boxes with kitchen items for charity.

Bins of nonfood items stored on balcony

Observations -- Food hoarding is probably one of my worst issues -- I'm not really sure why. Living alone, I don't often cook -- not only because of the lack of space but also because of my reluctance to make the effort for just me. I am semi-vegetarian, so I keep lots of nuts, dried fruit and grains around. I also keep lots of fruit and milk boxes around. Crackers and dried breads seem more practical to me than fresh bread, since fresh bread often goes stale before I can finish a loaf. I would freeze it, but my two freezers are stuffed full right now.

My fridge is stuffed full of decaying food. I continually buy too much, and it decays before I get around to eating it. Sometimes I make the effort to cook but then have no enthusiasm for my home-cooked "masterpiece." (When my friends ask me for computer help, I often suggest that they "pay" me with a home-cooked meal. I savour home-cooked meals, but I have no enthusiasm for cooking one.)

That is all for tonight. Elaine will be back at 8:30 a.m. I don't know where she finds all her energy. After she left this afternoon, I was exhausted. Lying down for a quick nap, I fell into a deep snooze that lasted about four hours.

Before Photos of My Cluttered Kitchen

"Before" photo of counter under pantry area

"Before" photo of my kitchen table

"Before" photo of my kitchen sink and counter

"Before" photo of my stove

"Before" photo of counter to left of sink