Quote:
Originally Posted by wildflowerchild25
@ Soupe du jour
I am so sorry you’re going through that. It sounds so stressful! On top of the two deaths close together it sounds near unbearable. So proud of you for keeping it together! Good luck with everything. My mom is a hoarder so I know how terrible the house must be. I’m not looking forward to helping my mom clean up.
|
Thank you for your supportive post above, @
wildflowerchild25! And thanks to all who've been supporting me so kindly these many months!
Wildflowerchild, I have experienced similar to what you describe in the past. I remember a lot the "want to run away" desire. Once I even booked a flight to San Francisco and started making plans. Hubby found out and I was able to cancel it back then. I forget exactly what happened then, but I did get passed it. I know reading this likely doesn't ease how you're feeling now, though. Just know that it's the illness speaking. I realize it's been super challenging you for a very long while. Don't let it get you, as painful as it is. You are a lovely person with people that love you. Even if you didn't have the latter, you still deserve happy easier times. Patience can seem a dirty awful word, but it is worth having.
I don't know why my brother and sister created homes of squalor. It wasn't anything learned from my parents or grandparents. Before my dad became ill enough to go to assisted living, I remember him voicing that he wanted to move out of his own house to live in an apartment, because of my brother's habits and other behavior. As for my sister's house, most of the hoarding is from her husband and my eldest nephew. But my b-i-l's parents kept their home neat and clean, too. My sister seems to now see the squalor as almost normalized. I wonder if my refusing to stay in my dad's house seems to her as some form of insult, given her living conditions. I have tried not to lecture her about it, but have brought up that it is not normal and they are unhealthy conditions in live in. Like many hoarders, they are hesitant to let anyone in. They almost refused to let me come in to even eat lunch with them (on my lap). The excuse was that they had no chair for me to sit on. I told my sister she could just move enough for a little space. Her house is actually a nice one, minus the hoarding and squalor. After over 30 years her kitchen cabinets have yet to ever have doors. Obviously all of this is born from mental illness. Illness that they refuse to properly address.