I have heard that the hardest part of beating an addiction is admitting that you have it. You must own it and then you can start working to control it. So I am here to announce that I have an addiction- hoarding. Yes, you may have seen people on tv as they are swallowed up by so many goods and material things that one wonders how they can function day to day. I am here to tell you that it is not easy. And I will explain…….
My hoarding started when I was very young. My parents let me soak myself in experiencing the arts through dance and art and painting. My father was an industrial arts teacher and my Saturdays were frequently spent at the school delving into the scrap bin to find my next creation. This was the initial spark- my first drink of creativity so to speak. And the hoarding grew…
I would help my dad with basic home remodeling as I got older and I marveled at the immediate satisfaction of painting an item be it a wall or a piece of furniture. He showed me how to sand, stain, and even paint a house (my summer job with him for years). So creativity began to become an important part of my life. I could not function without it. And the hoarding grew…
I am a mental hoarder. Sigh…The problem is I am running out of room. Just like the hoarders on tv, I don’t want to let go and anxiety rises when I think of ridding myself of my beloved project ideas.I collect them and even carry a little notebook to jot down the latest brainstorming that thunders in my head. But as soon as I put it to paper a new idea takes its place somewhere in my brain matter. I am driven to spend precious late night hours sipping the sweet intoxicating pictures on Pinterest never satisfied that I have had enough. And I gather and gather until at this point I believe my head may explode. And I make promises to myself that I know I will not keep. Tomorrow I will stop I say, full knowing that tomorrow will not change.
The effects of my mental hoarding are clearly evident when I enter Home Depot- well frankly any DIY, craft or hobby store will do. In the DIY store I linger at the paint samples…the possibilities sweep me off my feet, ok I admit I may also wander to the tile section as the glass tiles entice me like candy to a baby. My husband’s heart must sink when we enter and I grab a cart…I am sure of it. Let’s talk of the craft or hobby store. They steal my time from me like a good book can. I have been known to walk in there in daylight and out in the dark. You know, like when you go to that late matinee movie and the shock of walking out into the world after you have been so lost in what was playing out in front of you for hours. Yes that is what I mean. Hubby doesn’t even venture into those places with me. Just too painful to watch I guess.
I believe my co-workers are suspect of something happening with me. I have been known to be a scatterbrain from time to time but as of late it has gotten out of control. I can’t hide it anymore. They politely smile and hand me what I misplaced, remind me of my appointments, and point me to my car at the end of the day. My multi-tasking abilities are beyond strained to say the least and I fear an intervention may be planned.
Well, I have taken the first step in admitting the problem. I am proud of myself. I can beat this. But tomorrow I have some projects to finish…new ones on the drawing board and Christmas isn’t that far away. Have you seen what all you can do with mason jars?
4 Replies to “I Admit It- I Am A Hoarder”
Well at least there are no bugs crawling in there. Right??
No bugs…as far as I know.
I share your pain. I took the easy way out, and called myself “a keeper.” I not only “keep” ideas, but I also cannot let go of objects that have sentimental value to me. No, our home is not piled with stacks of magazines (although Wilt would love it if I saved every newspaper ever to roll of the presses) nor is it impossible to make your way through any mazes. I hide things fairly well. But that old sweater that is the most comfortable one I’ve ever worn – purchased from Lands’ End back in the late ’80’s, with fraying edges and bleach stains — no, that stays, because when I put it on, I am comfy, creative; I am “me.” But now I must admit, as you have, I too am a mental hoarder who carries a notebook in my purse, has one on my desk, one by my favorite spot in the living room & one on the kitchen counter, for “Ideas.” Apparently I’m also a notebook hoarder. I, too, love Home Depot and Lowe’s, and Pat Catan and Hobby Lobby and JoAnn’s and… I’m so glad to know I’m not alone here in this universe of hoarding. One day I might let you peek at my crafting papers and fabric stash…
Yeah I didn’t even start about my textile fetish. I don’t sew much but love fabrics and textures. TMI I think.