BEST COOLER BAG EVER

Here it is. The best cooler bag ever. Look for yourself:

What makes it so great? It was a fabulous deal, and has this wonderful bright pink color. It has a shoulder strap, but alternatively you can also carry it with the 2 handles.

It not only was a fabulous deal. It has this wonderful compartment for drinks. To make it even better you can freeze your drinks and then use them as the cool packs to keep your contents cold. 

But wait! That's not all. Look. It has this wonderful small hatch so you can open it and can get stuff out without losing any of your precious cold!

I know. You are SO JEALOUS! How about I get you my mother's phone number?

According to her, this bag is so wonderful she just "had to buy more than one." This is where I come in. I am one of the chosen people who gets a cooler bag dumped on them that they have no use for and no desire in having. That they couldn't turn down cause their mother was so exited about giving them a present. Even better in a color they are not particularly excited about. My sister Eliza knew better and turned it down. My sister Charlotte got one, too.
My sister Charlotte also insinuated that I should be thankful. 

My mother fulfilled her shopping and the hunt for bargain needs. My mother made sure it doesn't clutter her house by dumping her prizes on other people. My mother, I am sure, also raked in a few thank you's.

I am stuck with a bag I don't need and which I, thanks to my hoarding issue, can't but keep or rehome. I am very thankful indeed. *sarcasm off*

DO I WANT TO CHANGE?

Seriously. Sometimes I wonder if I really want to change. Staying the way I am and in the situation I am in might not be ideal, but at least I wouldn't have to adapt to something new. This year I had no New Year's reolutions as they end up being the same every year anyway. So. One starts to wonder.

I think it would be easier for me to stay happy with a clean organized house. But who am I kidding. It's not about being happy then. It's about being happy now. Today's goal was to write down all the things I want to do and change and to prioritize. So far I haven't even gotten myself a pice of paper and a pen.

I think I am afraid of the hard work it will bring with it. I want to eat a whole chocolate cake AND be skinny. I want to have a clean house WITHOUT EVER having to touch a rag. I want to be ORGANIZED AND KEEP IT ALL.

I am afraid it won't work. If I want to stop being a hoarder I have to be willing to change. I think I'll go and get that piece of paper now.

HOARDING FOOD

I don't hoard food. But I can't throw anything away until it went bad. Even if it is just half a serving. Until it goes bad I have to keep it. Even if I know I don't want to eat it. I hope James will eat it. Of course he doesn't. Once it goes bad, it's out. But as long as it techically good still...different story. I have finally learned to not eat the left overs off  the kids plates.

When we go out to eat, I have to eat it all. Today we went to a fast food place. Fortunately I didn't order anything. The kids and James left enough for a whole meal.  I can't. I simply can't. I payed for it. The stuff was expensive. People starve every day. I simply can't throw it away.

I wonder if that has to do with my hoarding.

HOARDERS ARE PEOPLE, TOO

Rumor has it that hoarders are not only people, but even smart people, sensitive people. I would like to agree. I am, at least that is what people tell me. I love helping others. I love to produce that high chair they need, or to be able to supply that sewing machine they need just this one time. It makes me feel important. Hm. Is this the answer? Is this why I am hoarding? Maybe it's a part of the answer. I think the truth is a little more complex. Hoarding is definitly an issue on the maternal side of my family. This might also be the reason why I am not clompetely drowned in clutter. I've seen 2 homes drowning in stuff and the sight wasn't pretty. It is very easy for me to spot it as "ridicilous" with others. Maybe having it close to home helped me be alert and on my toes. I have been fighting my clutter all my life. At the moment I am not sure who is winning.

Many times I've accused my self of being to lazy, too unorganized or even too stupid to get a grip on things. As long as I can remember I kept stuff for it's "sentimentals value". I love to think that the "hoarder label" is not for me, that Ican get away with being "chronically disorganized". Watching the US show "Hoarders" helped me to face the truth. At first I cried. It couldn't be. Me? A mental disorder? What would people think? Would they still love me? Then it hit me. I didn't decide to have a mental disorder, just like no one decides to hace cancer. And just like you keep loving someone with cancer, people will love me, eventhough I am a hoarder. I realized that being able to put a name onit actually sets me free. I am no longer: "toolazy", "too stupid", too anything to keep my house in order. I simply have aproblem and now that Iknow what it is I can start fixing it. IF I had cancer  everybody would come running to help. They would cook meals for me, take my kids to school, pick me up after chemotherapy. They wouldn't stop loving me just because I had cancer. Being a hoarder makes me no less lovable. It just means I need support in different areas.
I am not sure if I prefer having a mental disorder over being lazy but at least I can take a different approach. I am not a failure. I am a hoarder, and as you know:

Hoarders are people, too!

OCD

I heard that OCD and HOARDING were just the different ends of the spectrum of the same disorder. Shocked? I am not. Needing things "just right" often gets in the way for me with serious clean up. I get lost in detail. I want things perfect. And then I simply never get them done. Then I am frustrated and get even less done. To fulfill my need for perfection while still getting things done, I allow myself little things of perfection. Like:"When you are done cleaning up this room, your reward is washing the windows."
What kind of a reward is washing windows you might think? Well. I love a clean window, but lets face it. When a house is drowning in clutter, washing windows is not a priority. This gives me something to work for and my perfectionist's mind thinks a room isn't properly cleaned up unless the windows are washed.

Sometimes it makes me sad, that I am on the wrong side of the spectrum, but lets face it. I don't really want to be on the other end either. Settling somewhere in the middle sounds ideal. I'm slowly getting there!

COPING STRATEGIES

Being a hoarder, the hardest of course is parting with stuff. Any excue will do to keep it. Having a good strategy will help. I am still working on strategies to actually part with stuff, but I have a few strategies that help me not to drown in clutter. "Why different strategies?" you wonder. Because different problems need different solutions. The stuff is different. I feel different. The situation is different. So different approaches are needed. I will introduce them to you one by one. But here is a little teaser to keep you interested.

• one by one
• 10 magic minutes
• the imaginary line
• 5 a day
• the box approach
• emergency clean up aka the box approach  

You are dying to find out. Aren't you.

HOW IT STARTED

Guess what. It never did. Seriously. There is no set point in my life when hoarding started. At least none that I can remember. No tragic death or seperations. No burnt down house. No broken relationship. Not even a dead puppy.

I like to think that I was trained to be a hoarder. My grandparents lived through WW I and II and the aftermath of those wars. They expirienced the Great Depression. What could be used, would be used. If something was available that you might need later, you got it. If something was offered for free, you didn't hesitate. It was either useful to you, a kin or it could be sold or traded.

My parents grew up in the years after WW II. They expirienced food stamps and all the other things that came with it. Shoes were worn until the fell off your feet. Clothes were mended, or the material used for new clothes or quilts.

I grew up in a house in which before throwing a thing away you asked yourself:"Could this be of use still?" With a vivid imagination (yup, mine is VERY vivid) the answer pretty much always was:"YES."

Wouldn't it be lovely to blame them? It is my parents fault! Even my grandparents are to blame! I was trained to be a hoarder! Ther is nothing I can do about it.
It would be lovely indeed. I would be free of guilt and free of responsibilty. It would also be a lie.

I AM THE ONE

• who collected all the things.
• who decided they are worth keeping.
• who, when going through the stuff refuses to part with them.
• who stacks up boxes all the way to the ceiling because there is no more room for the stuff to go elsewhere.

It wasn't my parents. Or even my grandparents. It was me. No way around it. 

All my life, even as I kid, I saw things as either potenially useful still or they had a certain sentimental value. I was always aware that I have a hard time parting with things, but I never saw that as a problem. The challenge was to keep it sorted and available. For the moment it would be useful. I stored things in bags and boxes. I stored things in dressers, on top of wardrobes and under my bed. I used every little corner available. I did go through my stuff many times and parted with things, but most of it I kept and took with me the times I moved. (Sometimes still sealed in the box from the previous move). Not having a "start" makes it impossible to work with what triggered it. To work through the emotions of that event and to let go of hoarding. As it is I have to take a different route.

I ask myself. Why am I doing this? What is the emotional benefit of keeping all this? How would it feel to not have it? It is time for change. Time to free myself!

CHAOSQUEEN

Yup. That's me. Fortunately I am not soley described by chaos. I would describe myself as smart (at least most of the time). I am fun to be with. I do have my occasional creative moment. I am trusting, (borderline naiv). I can be hard working (once I get started). I am compassionate. I love people and I love attention.  I love languages. I am rather sentimental. I prefer being in control. I like things neat and organized. Structure helps me stay sane. I love the beach and the Ocean. I love mountains. I enjoy reading. I am a chatterbox.

And I am a HOARDER.

What a dreadful word. It is full of despair. It reeks of greed. A cave and a vile dirty creature protecting it forms in my image. I don't see myself as a hoarder, even if that is the official label. Forgive me for not being able to give you the name of the woman who said it. She was featured on the US show "Hoarders". She said. "I don't see myself as a hoarder. I see myself as a saver. I save things." My sentiments exactly. I save perfectly functional, usuable things from going to the dump. But just like saving 27 starving kittens off the street will be more than you can handle, saving everything that "could still be of use" will eventually be more than you can handle.

I've reached that point. I am drowning. The things that are piling up are suffocating me. I need to break free. I want to live my life and not be the queen of my little chaotic realm. As I have said before. I am a chatterbox. Talking helps me work through things. So does  writing. I have started this blog as a therapeutic tool to work through my emotions.

I don't know how you found my blog.

• If you are reading this and you are a hoarder yourself. May my journey help you.
• If you are reading this and are a friend or a relative of a hoarder, may my blog help you to gain a better understanding and help you be gentle with the hoarder in your life.
• If you are reading this blog, simply because you stumbled over it, may I be able to entertain you and make you laugh.

No matter who you are. I hope I can tell my story in a way that touches you. So you can see:

HOARDERS ARE PEOPLE, TOO