Reboot

So it begins again.

I had heard of the A&E show Hoarders but had never watched it, figuring it would be a simple mirror image of my mother's life as we knew it, and nothing more. I haven't been much for TV since college started, anyway. But since I've graduated and moved back home - well, a lot of things have changed, some of them for the worse, including my sedentary habits. So Hoarders was on, and I tuned in.

My mother is usually planted in front of the TV as well, and although she watched part of the show with me, she unsurprisingly drifted away from the program to occupy herself with other, less emotionally home-driving things, offering only an occasional "At least I'm not as bad as those people" as commentary on the show.

Reflecting on my own reaction to the filth and psychological disturbance of the people on Hoarders, I saw clearly (perhaps for the first time) just how easily my mother would fit in on the show. Like most television, Hoarders is all about shock value: look at how unbelievably the human race can deteriorate in today's hyper-consumerist and mentally helpless world. Et cetera, "and now buy Hoarders on DVD" (a particularly cruel marketing ploy, I thought). And I thought to myself, "If that were our house on that show, the viewers' reactions would be no different." They would be shocked at our home. Maybe not as disgusted, but certainly surprised at how my mother lives. The word pity comes to mind as well.

So I think it's time to resurrect what has seemed like such a frustrating and unending battle from my post 3,000 miles away. Tomorrow I am calling a professional organizer. It will be a big expense, and I am positive I will resent having to do this, because I am an imperfect person and because I will be the one paying for it from my own funds. But I am clinging to the hope that, if her home improves, my mother's emotional and overall well-being will improve, and she will regain enough motivation to find a job and, at 57, finally begin doing well for herself again.

There is a huge emotional component to living with a hoarder, one that I don't think I allowed myself to recognize when I was just starting out this project and seeing it as spring cleaning times ten. It is eye-opening to realize that there are people out there who have gone through this exact same thing (from what I saw on Hoarders, many adult children like me are the ones dealing with their parents' hoarding). The frustration in trying to fix a habit and a lifestyle that you did not contribute to, which the perpetrator does not feel compelled to fix, is immense. Frustration is the word in de-cluttering, and in controlling the emotion that comes with it. Negotiating with my mother about eliminating objects turns me into much more than a girl with a short fuse - that fuse is a long and continuously sizzling argument. I am literally arguing with someone psychologically affected, and it is a very difficult road.

This time, de-cluttering is not just a fun summer project to blog about, and I am not going to concern myself with being a "good blogger," posting pictures to keep the "audience" engaged. The shallow desire for internet fame is an entirely separate issue of my own that needs to be put aside here. I hope that resurrecting this blog will help me sort through the emotional struggle of helping my mother help herself in the long journey toward a healthy lifestyle.

If you are still reading this, I genuinely thank you for your silent support, because it feels good to be starting something meaningful again.