From the entry way to my cave

I said I would get into how bad my living conditions got. It is important to differentiate between the hoard and the mess. The hoard is collecting items, bringing things into the house and not throwing anything out, the result being a plethora of items, too many to have a place to be put away or belong or to be organized. The mess is a result of the hoard. The hoard happens for different reasons than the mess and I'll explain that in later blogs.

I should mention that I survived and moved on from that house, but barely and I mean barely because the conditions I lived in almost took my life. I went from that house to six months in the hospital, then to a assisted living facility to a town house where I presently live but continue to struggle with hoarding. . But more about that later. I want to get the unpleasantries out of the way first and describe the horror I created to live in. As I mentioned before a description of my house is important to my story. It is important to understand the disparity in which I lived and to understand how I got there to understand the miracles that happened after.

I'll start from the back door entry and work my way to the cave, my four by four foot area in the living room where I existed. I couldn't enter the house by the front door because the front entry way was cemented in by layers of newspapers that I took from my mailbox,  threw on the floor, layer by layer and eventually on piles as tall as I am.

The back entry was mostly always clear. Once in the door there was three steps up to the kitchen. The stairs also was mostly always clear of litter.  Once in the kitchen the first thing that you would notice was that there was no fridge or stove. I lived without a fridge and stove for about three years. I had them removed by a couple of guys I found by a  "haul your junk" listing in the yellow pages. Yes yellow pages was used when most people did not have an electronic device to keep in touch with the whole world in an instant. Come to think of it there were many phone books in the cement piles (not sounds like cement pond) at the front door.

Because I had no fridge or stove I did not prepare food in the kitchen and there was no food or mold on the counters. There were a few boxes on the floor filled with items that I was going to put away as soon as I got organized. The floor was filthy as it had not been washed in years. There was a few boxes on the counter as well. That is about it for the kitchen except the floor and counter was splattered with mouse turds.  That is why I got rid of the fridge and stove, because I heard mice scratching inside the stove.

Next was the dining room and that is where it starts to get bad.

How bad it got

It will take a few entries to describe the depths of filth I lived in and the subsequent spiritual, emotional and physical decay I experienced.  The reasons why it happened are multifaceted and I will address them seperately. Hopefully the order of the entries I write make sense.

It is hard to write about how bad my house got because it will make you readers skirmish. My friend, whom I can share anything with covers her ears and screatches  "I can't hear it, don't say it" when I talk about the condition of my house due to the hoard. But if I don't describe the deapths of my condition, the journey of my recovery will not have the same impact. It is hard even for me to envision my living conditions.  I rationalize the mental pictures in my memory as an episode on the TV show "Buried Alive" and assign my memories to their stories.

And so I will describe my house bit by bit from the periphery down to the four foot square area where I inprisoned myself with the surrounding hoard.  Again, I am new to blogging and hope to make this accessible to all who search for it to find encouragement and help without identifying myself. I need to remain anonymous because part of my story involves situations that some of my family members cannot know. If they found out, it would be devastating to them and they would question their sense of self.

Introduction of me.

I want to write a quick post to get this blog started. I need to do some more reading on blogs to understand what I need to do to get the most out of the blogging process.

I have not died and ascended to Heaven. I have however risen out of the hell of depression, a constant alcohol induced delirium, and paralyses from an overwhelming hoarding filth.  It now feels like I am living in Heaven compared to where I was.

I will write more but need to figure out this blogging process as I am new to it.