Another Comment on Interventions

Back in September, I wrote a couple of blog posts ("A Family Intervention?" and "Family Intervention Follow-Up") about a father who is married to a hoarder and was looking for advice about whether/how to have an intervention.

Earlier today, I received a comment on the original post from a family law attorney, and I think the comment is worth highlighting. Since it is written from the perspective of an attorney advocating on behalf of a family (as contrasted with advocacy for an individual hoarder), I expect that some members of the hoarding/therapy communities will disagree strongly with some of the advice. I'm comfortable with that. The vast majority of discussions about hoarders seem to focus on the hoarders themselves, while largely ignoring the impact of hoarding on the rest of the family.

Since I am not a lawyer, I won't comment on the legal issues raised by the attorney, but I will comment briefly on the moral/practical issues. In cases where children are involved, the hoarding is severe, and the family wants to give intervention a try before moving out, it can be important to have clear, well-communicated and documented objectives for improving the conditions under which the children are living. It is essential to make progress towards achieving those improved conditions with a minimum of delay. When dealing with a hoarding situation, it is very common for time to slip away, for weeks to stretch into months and years, and for a childhood to be lost. A parent's first obligation is to the children, and my commenter has laid out the steps for a fast, firm intervention as a last resort before breaking up a marriage or someone moving out of the family home.

It may be a painful approach for everyone, especially the hoarder, but doing nothing or using the "go slow" approach that seems to be favored by many hoarders' therapists can be even more painful and damaging to the rest of the family, especially to the children.

Please feel free to add your comments to the original post or to this post. For your convenience, I've quoted the attorney's full comment below.

Anonymous said...

I am a family law attorney. My advise [sic] is to:

1. Talk to the children and find out how the hoard has affected them. Be proactive and don't wait for them to come to you because they may think you have given up.
2. Schedule family counseling with a therapist.
3. Write a letter to your wife about the hoard. Be very descriptive of your past efforts to clean-up as well as the negative effects on the children. Inform her about the date for family counseling. Tell her the consequences (separation) if she does not participate in counseling AND the clean-up. Give her a timeline and all the help she will need to clean up. Set a clean-up day after you have given her time to clean it up herself (which will never happen). Send the letter to her by email, registered mail (return receipt) and by process server to assure she could say you never say she didn't receive the letter.
4. On the scheduled a clean-up day have close family and friends there to help. Pull EVERYTHING outside. Divide everything into piles to: recycle, trash, donate or keep. If she wants to donate something you know is trash, tell her you will donate it then take it to the dump. Choose your battles.
5. Record the hoard before her clean-up, after her clean-up, before your scheduled clean-up day and after.
6. Stick to it, through the anger, tears, threats, etc. Hold your ground. Clean it up. Keep it clean.
7. Set rules for the house. If the rules states no clutter in the living room, don't go to bed with clutter there. Take a picture of it then move it.
8. If all fails get a good lawyer and you should get full custody. You can put terms in the custody agreement that the children will not visit the mom over her house unless it is clean. The term "clean" will have to be defined in the agreement.

January 13, 2013 9:58:00 AM EST

I'd like to thank the anonymous attorney for making a very thought-provoking comment! I also suggest that anyone who is considering an intervention strategy should consult with both a therapist and an attorney, as everyone's situation can be different, and laws can vary widely from one community to another.

The Charm of Dribbling Orange Gloop

Via the Children of Hoarders Facebook Page, I came across a sweet little story about a daughter of a hoarder who found an unexpected obstacle blocking her efforts to be a good mother to her own baby daughter. Her story is a great example of the challenges that many children of hoarders face when trying to build normal, happy lives for themselves and their families. Be sure to check out "A Hoarder’s Daughter Yields to a (Little) Mess" in The New York Times!

PS. The author, Judy Batalion, also wrote an interesting story in Slate about finding romance with another child of a hoarder. The punch line: "after three decades, I had finally found someone I could bring home."

Dust Bunnies

©iStockphoto.com/TheCrimsonMonkey.

I'm guessing that if I ever sign up for an online dating site, this line won't exactly reel 'em in:

"I'm in my forties, I'm fairly accomplished, and, deep inside, I still struggle with feeling like I'm worth less than a dust bunny."

There. I said it.

Tonight, I found myself writing the "dust bunny" sentence in response to a remark someone made about the deep, lasting impact of growing up in an environment where parents appear to value stuff—even stuff that belongs in a biohazard container—more than they value the psychological and physical needs of their children.

I know that I am worth more than a dust bunny.

I just don't always believe it.

After all, I spent just under half of my life surrounded by evidence that I wasn't.

A big part of the struggle is recognizing that the scar is real, that it is significant, and that I am not being a weak, whiny little kid by acknowledging that the sustained conditions of my first eighteen or so years will naturally echo across the decades.

At the same time, a part of me tells me that I'm in my forties, and it's weak and whiny to blame things that happened more than twenty years ago for how I feel today.

Meanwhile, another part of me insists that I grew up surrounded by cobwebs and cat feces, and that I have a hell of a lot of nerve to think that I deserve better than that. If there is anything truly evil in my life, it is that voice, and I speak with it every day.

PS. Before anyone gets too concerned about schizophrenia, I don't actually "hear voices," or anything like that. I just tend to have melodramatic internal dialogues. :)

Family Intervention Follow-Up

My last post, "A Family Intervention?", centered on a request for advice from a man who is the father of several children and who is married to a hoarder. "Jim" wanted advice on how/whether to have an intervention to help the family, what might happen if it failed, and, in the last resort, how likely he would be to get custody of the kids in the event of a separation.

Before I posted his story on my blog, I outlined Jim's situation in general terms to the participants of the COH Chat held on Sunday, September 9, 2012. I've summarized the resulting comments from that chat session here:

• First, there was wide agreement that Jim should start documenting the family's living conditions and his attempts to address the situation immediately, if he hasn't already started to do so. He should be taking pictures of the home, and he should be keeping a diary of his efforts to maintain the home for the children. He should also document his attempts to work with his wife to provide a safe, healthy environment.
• There also was a consensus that if the basic physical necessities were not being delivered, then the children should be removed from the home immediately. For example, if the house is a fire trap, with exits blocked, etc., then the situation must be addressed without delay. Additionally, if the situation has deteriorated to the point where there are chronic problems with plumbing, heating, or electricity, then the children should be removed from the situation immediately. (Note: it was not clear from Jim's emails that physical conditions in the house had gotten quite as bad as that. My sense was that they hadn't reached that point yet, but that they were on their way.)
• Whether or not there is an intervention, and whether or not Jim leaves (with or without the kids), most people believed that getting counseling for the kids would be important.
• Several people recommended having a family discussion, or at least discussing their home lives with the kids. Chat participants mentioned their own confusion when they were children about living in a hoard house and how those feelings of confusion and isolation impacted their development. Of course, if Jim speaks with the kids, it is hard to imagine doing it without his wife being involved somehow, so it is probably best to do it as a group or with a trained counselor to guide things along. One idea was to have members of the family judge where rooms in the house might fit into the International OCD Foundation's Clutter Image Rating (PDF file).
• Regarding custody of the children in the event of a separation, the chat participants thought it would be very unlikely that the hoarding parent would get full custody, unless the non-hoarding parent had some serious personal issue that he didn't disclose. The consensus was that the non-hoarding parent would get at least shared custody, if not full custody. As one person put it, "Better that the kids live at least part time in a normal home [than in the current hoarding environment]." Another chimed in with, "I would think any sort of stability in dad's home would be better than living with hoarder mom 100% of the time."
• At the same time, courts do solicit the opinions of the children in custody cases, and it is hard to predict the results of that process. Thinking back to when I was a kid, I desperately wanted a different situation, but I wouldn't have wanted to "abandon" my mom (the hoarder). In retrospect, I know that it would have been far better for me to have been removed from the hoard house, but "younger me" would have wanted to stay to try to fix things, at least in part because mom was such a disaster, and dad seemed to be able to take care of himself. In other words, as a kid, I thought that the slim chance that I could help mom was greater than the damage she was inflicting on me. I was mistaken, but I'm not sure I could have been convinced otherwise when I was a kid. Who knows how that would have played out if I were questioned about it in court? Bottom line: without dad in the house to shield us, mom's problem would have been 100x worse, and I shudder to imagine being a teenager in my mom's hoard without dad in the picture.
• Another comment from a chat participant: "It is not just her living there, there are SEVERAL other people in the house. I think that is why they need to act. Even if makes no impact with her, it makes impact with them." 
• Finally, although I said in my original post that a parent's first obligation is to his/her children (and I absolutely stand by that advice!), that doesn't mean that the father should ignore his own needs for a clean, safe, healthy environment. As one of the participants said, "It's not healthy for the dad to keep living with mom and sacrifice all his happiness, too!" Yes, very true. I have often wondered about the kind of life my dad might have led outside of the hoard. He was a terrific fellow, and he died too young to find out, in part, I think, because of the stress of living in the hoard and shielding his kids from the worst of my mom's psychological issues.

Many thanks to the folks in the chat who shared their thoughtful advice!

A Family Intervention?

I've recently been trading some emails with a fellow who is the father of several kids and is the husband of a hoarder. Jim (not his real name) is looking for advice on how/whether to have an "intervention" to help the family. He also wants to understand what might happen if the intervention fails.

I've included an edited version of our conversation below. If you'd like to offer some advice to Jim, please do so in the comment section. Alternately, please send it to me via email, and I'll relay your advice to him.

"I'm in my 40s, married almost twenty years to a hoarder, and we have several pre-teen kids. I've only just begun to understand this disorder.

I've thought of joining the Children of Hoarders support group, but the site says it's only for the kids. The Friends of Hoarders group is mainly for folks who know some hoarder down the street, but not really for the people living with them. Sorry to dump on you, but I found your blog, and I'd love some help. 

I've kept our house livable mainly because of the simple fact that I have a good job, so it is a big house. I'm starting to lose the battle, though. For most of our marriage the hoarding was less severe, but over the past year, it has been accelerating, and I can't keep up with the mess anymore. The closets are full, and so is the garage. I love my wife, but now her hoarding is starting to affect the kids. Or maybe it has affected them all along, and I haven't been paying attention to the right things. 

1. I've managed to keep the downstairs of our house pretty decent...Not great, but livable. The upstairs, where the bedrooms are, is a no man's land, though. The beds are accessible, but you are basically walking on clothes for the rest. We rarely have guests, because we are embarrassed by the mess. I'm afraid that this is stunting the kids socially. Is that what others experienced, or did they manage to come through?
2. My oldest kids (almost teenagers) are both struggling in school with things like finishing assignments and organization. I think it is related.
3. I really do love my wife, and I'm sure that she loves the kids. I'm just not sure whether she loves us enough to give up the stuff.
4. I'm working with my pastor, and we are planning an intervention. He has done several with alcoholics, but neither of us have done one with a hoarder. Any suggestions would be appreciated. Has anyone done this? How did it go? What lessons were learned?
5. Lastly, if this all fails, and we get nowhere with the intervention, and we have to go to court, does anyone have any idea how likely my wife is to receive full custody of the children? There's no point in separating from her to protect the kiddos if they'll just be stuck with her without me around to buffer things a bit.

How do you know when it's time to give up? If a good lawyer says I'd get custody of the kids, should I separate? I'd love some advice, or even a suggestion of where to go. 

Sorry to get so personal with someone I've never met, but there it is... In a way it's safer, since I don't know your real name and you don't know mine."

Here is some of what I wrote back to Jim:

"I wish that there were an easy answer. The best that I can come up with is the advice that I've given in the past to people in difficult family situations, whether hoarding was involved or not: a parent's first obligation is to his/her children. 

In practical terms, your children need safe, clean places to eat, sleep, study, bathe, etc. Particularly as they get a little older, children also need space that they control; space that is free from someone else's clutter. If you and your spouse are unable to achieve that together, then I think that a separation can definitely make sense, even though it is likely to be painful. 

From the things that people have posted in the Children of Hoarders group, and also from some of the recent research on children of hoarders, growing up in a hoarding environment can affect a child in ways that last well into adulthood. A lot of children of hoarders report serious issues with self-esteem, a feeling of being different (in a bad way) from everyone else, an inability to form close, healthy relationships with others, etc., and a lot of C.O.H. say that they were socially marginalized or bullied in school because of their living conditions. 

While you are considering your options, I do suggest that you keep in mind that changing a hoarder's behavior often takes a long time. For an adult, that might not be a very big deal, but for a child, it can be an enormous problem. Kids quickly go through a lot of stages when they grow up, and going through those stages while feeling very insecure or socially isolated can be devastating. As adults, you and your spouse may not have changed a lot in the last five years, say, but think of the transitions that a kid makes between five and ten years of age, or between ten and fifteen, etc., and then think of the burden posed by passing through those transitions with a feeling that things are more important than themselves, that they need to hide the way they live, that they may be getting bullied, etc. 

You might want to take a look at the Friends and Families of Hoarders and Clutterers group on Yahoo. It's not quite as active as the COH group, but it does seem like it might be a good fit. I'm a member there, and I know a few other COHs are, too. 

There are also monthly online chats at ChildrenOfHoarders.com that you might want to check out. You can participate anonymously, and it could be a great opportunity to ask for advice. 

No matter what, good luck and best wishes!"

If anyone has any other advice to give to Jim, or if you think that my advice is not on target, please share your comments on this post below or feel free to send me an email. Thanks!

Update #1 (September 10, 2012): Before I posted this story on my blog, I outlined Jim's situation in general terms to the participants of the COH Chat held on Sunday, September 9, 2012. I've summarized the resulting comments from that chat session in another blog post, "Family Intervention Follow-Up."

Update #2 (January 13, 2013): Thanks to the anonymous family law attorney for the interesting comment below about steps to take in preparation for an intervention! I've elaborated on it a little bit in a new post.

Update #3 (January 13, 2013): Thank you, "Escaped the Hoard," for your very kind post about my site and for linking to this post!

Sweet Potatoes, Narcissism, and Parents Who Hoard

"Sweet Potatoes, Narcissism, and Parents Who Hoard." That sounds like the title of an academic paper, no?

In my previous post, I described a ritual that took place at almost all of my childhood family's holiday dinners: my mom would insist that I loved something that she had repeatedly been told (by me and others) that I had always disliked.

A friend of mine from ChildrenOfHoarders.com read my post, and she forwarded a quote to me from a page about parents with Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD) :

Narcissistic Parents must be in control. No matter what. A Narcissistic Parent controls his or her children by dictating how these children should feel, should act, and the decisions to be made. This can lead to adult children of Narcissistic Parents being unsure of what they, themselves, like and want out of life. These Adult Children of Narcissistic Parents never learn to be autonomous and make his or her own decisions.

I've heard other children of hoarders discussing the possibility of hoarding being intertwined with NPD, at least in some cases. I recognized that there might be some validity to their assertions, but I hadn't given it a lot of thought. Along comes the quote mentioned above, and I feel like I've been hit on the head with a Clue-by-Four!

While I am definitely autonomous (perhaps to a fault) and can make my own decisions, the rest of that paragraph is right on target, both in terms of how my mom behaved and the question of knowing what I want out of my own life. I used to think I knew what I liked and what I wanted, but I've come to realize how much of "me" has been about fulfilling other people's expectations of those things, rather than developing my own expectations.

Since realizing this (probably only around a year ago), discovering what I "like and want out of life" has been my greatest objective and my greatest challenge. I wish that I could say that I feel like I have been making progress. I think it would be more accurate to say that I have been, and continue to be, developmentally disabled in this area. I'm in my forties.

Anyway, the article that my friend sent to me, the somewhat awkwardly titled "Adult Children of Narcissistic Parents Resources", is well worth reading. I think that around 90% of it is directly applicable to the dynamics in my family.

Mom was a hoarder, and she almost certainly suffered from Narcissistic Personality Disorder. She wasn't the only one who suffered.

Hey, Sweet Potato!

(The following is adapted from a post I made earlier today on the Children of Hoarders Yahoo! support group. The context was a comment about parents thinking they know more about their kids than their kids know about themselves. Sure, in some respects, that's true, but in other respects? Well, read on...)

---

Holiday dinners were the only time that we would have sweet potatoes when I was a kid. My sisters liked them, and when we grew up and started having holiday dinners at my sisters' houses, sweet potatoes stayed on the menu.

At every such dinner, the sweet potatoes would be passed around the table, they would reach me, and I would politely pass the bowl to the next person without taking any sweet potatoes for myself.

I don't like sweet potatoes.

I don't actually hate sweet potatoes, but they are pretty darned close to the bottom of the list of foods that I am willing to eat. Starvation situations only. Zombie attacks. Nuclear winter. Your basic apocalypses. Like I said, it's not really hate.

Every time, every year, my mom (who was a severe hoarder) would be upset that I did not take any sweet potatoes. More than upset; shocked and stunned, really.

Mom: "But Joe! You love sweet potatoes!"
Joe: "No. I don't like sweet potatoes."
Mom: "But you always eat them!"
Joe: "I don't remember ever liking sweet potatoes, and I don't 'always' eat them. We go through this every year. We've done this for at least thirty years. I might have had a spoonful of them once in the past, just to humor you, but I do not like sweet potatoes."
Mom (with feeling!): "You're terrible!"
Sisters: "Really, mom? Do we have to start this again?"
Mom: "I don't know what's wrong with you people!"

This wasn't some fun little tradition that families joke about. Mom was serious about this. Sometimes the sweet potatoes would be the start of the holiday arguments; sometimes they were just a preamble. (I didn't hate sweet potatoes, but I did learn to hate holidays. Holidays were a time for drama in my family. I'm more of a comedian. A topic for another day, I think.)

I know, I know. You're asking, "Why not just skip serving sweet potatoes entirely? Just serve something else!" We tried that one year, and my mom thought we were just terrible for doing so. "Everyone has sweet potatoes at Thanksgiving! It's not Thanksgiving without sweet potatoes!"

The thing is, mom was an extremely intelligent woman with an amazing memory. I really think that she wasn't kidding: she deeply and truly believed that I loved sweet potatoes and that I had loved them throughout my entire life. It's as though she simply refused to let any evidence to the contrary take root her brain, since she knew that I loved sweet potatoes. I think she finally started to accept the truth around the time I turned 40.

I don't know how much (if any) of my mom's fixation on her son's very special relationship with sweet potatoes might have been tied to cognitive patterns related to her hoarding behavior, how much might have been related to some other psychological issue, or how much was a simple exaggeration of any parent's mistaken memory of their child. What I do know is that once an idea became planted in my mom's mind, it was almost impossible to dislodge it, no matter the evidence against it.

I realize that the sweet potato story sounds like, well, small potatoes, and it's possible that it has nothing to do with hoarding behavior. Nonetheless, countless stories like those, over issues large and small, day after day, presented a major challenge in the relationships between my mother and her family.

Update: Shortly after writing this post, a friend sent me a quote from an article about Narcissistic Personality Disorder that might relate to my mom's focus on my relationship with sweet potatoes. I wrote a new blog post to explore that subject: "Sweet Potatoes, Narcissism, and Parents Who Hoard".