I feel I dwell on the negative way too much here. But this blog. This is my therapy. This is my doctor. This is my couch. This is my drug of choice. My words.
My blog keeps me sane. I can sit here and say everything I need to.
But, I feel I have to say, no SHOUT: IT DOES GET BETTER!
Did you hear me?
Yes, it does get better.
When I was 18 I left my parents’ home. The place I personally, and now publicly, call the Monster House. Why did I give it a nickname? Well, for many years I had nightmares of that home, of the trash and stuff, and the things that happened there. It is/was my monster in the closet so to speak.
I moved 5 miles away the first time, then over 1,000 miles away from home with a little over $200 in my pocket. Although, that number soon dwindled when my best friend’s boyfriend stole some my first few nights living with her.
Our friendship didn’t endure him. He was more suited to my life in the Monster House than the life I wanted in this new state.
The one thing that growing up there did for me: it made me a survivor. I could endure, I could think outside the box, I could be creative, I was strong. I could leave them also and make it. I did.
Now, here I am, 16 (SIXTEEN!!) years later. Really?!! Wow. Anyway, here I am 16 years later. I have a husband, I have a dog, a WONDERFUL daughter, a home, 2 vehicles, a job career making a decent income. I even had a summer with a pet tree frog 
Now, maybe a bit of luck played into all of it, or maybe some hard work and dedication. I’m not sure, sometimes I look back and just think of how LUCKY I am. Other times, I remember working two full-times jobs, working my butt off so my husband could get to the Dr. or working my way up in a field more embracing to men than women. I worked full-time while going to school full-time and pregnant. (2nd time back to school). So, I guess I did work some 
But, this post isn’t about me really, it’s about YOU. YOU can leave that hoard behind. If I can do it… I KNOW anyone can. Yes, I do carry around the scars and pain, but that’s because I held it in for SO LONG. If your reading this and your still at home, know that one day you can leave too.
I grew up in dog & cat crap. Cheese on the walls. Spilled milk and rotten food on the floor. Trash. Fleas. Mice. Mold. Ick. It was all I knew for the longest time. And when I realized that others didn’t grow up this way, I was jealous and angry and sad and frustrated and lonely and mad and hurt and sick and tired and and and ….. << as I am sure many COHs feel >>
So, coming from all of that, I can honestly say, as a child of a hoarder, it does get better.
At 14 if someone would have told me it would get better, I may have tried to punch them. But, in the back of my head, I knew life could be something more than what I had. I saw it all around me.
I left. I do not hoard. For the most part my house is clean. I know I am not what was in that Monster House.
YOU can leave. You will not be a hoarder because you grew up in it. You can have a clean house. You are not nasty or filthy, you are not what created the hoard.
Thank you for your blog, and for this hopeful post… I love this part especially:
“The one thing that growing up there did for me: it made me a survivor. I could endure, I could think outside the box, I could be creative, I was strong. I could leave them also and make it. I did.”
I’m 23 and even though I could have left years ago I feel trapped here until I fix my mother and make everything right. The sooner I forget that mentality and move on with my own life, the better. It’s just so difficult.
Love,
Rose
Rose,
First, thank you so much for sharing. That alone puts you one step closer to finding your way out of the hoard. Leaving is hard. Very. I know the feeling of trying to fix your mother. I tried up until the day my mom died to fix her. And there is also the guilt I know you must be feeling for wanting to leave.
You need to realize though, that you are never going to be able to fix your mom. {hug} As much as we want to do so, that is just something I don’t think is possible.
It is difficult, but just know that there is hope for a wonderful life once you do leave.
Feel free to email me anytime you need to talk. You can do so at thehoardersdaughter@gmail.com
My ex-husband is a hoadrer and he’s 72. He has never wanted for anything, so that’s not the explanation. He still has a Heathkit for a stereo. He bought it in 1957 and never did put it together. He owns 7 houses and every garage is filled with his things . I put his obsession on to being the cheapestman on the face of the earth. It’s his new wife’s problem now.If you ever find out the answer to this-let me know.
Interesting qtuesion. Some people who suffer from deprivation or lack of love have a tendency to hoard. I know a middle aged, low income person who has a debilitating illness and suffers from depression.She has two freezers full of food but is always complaining that some of her frozen food is old ; replacing it and getting more, spending more money, trying the latest electronic gadgets, ordering from catalogs, etc. I believe that these are attempts to replace what she has lost thru’ illness and in various other ways. With her TV left on 24/7, she is a victim to consumerism, almost daily buying into transitory pleasures which she believes to be necessary . As a friend, there is nothing I can do except stand back,watch, and accept her as she is. Needless to say, this is a sad object lesson for me.
I alywas joke around that I could have turned into the worst perfectionist known to the human world but instead, I learned to go with the flow. It’s so easy to focus on our screw ups, extending grace does not come easy. But it is so worth pursuing.I’ve been thinking & praying of you a lot lately. Always here if you need anything. <3