Sometimes it strikes me that I might go for days without seeing another human being in person. I have a few people that I speak with daily, but that is either by telephone or via Skype. There is a closeness to that, to be sure, but, actually being in person with someone else, that is missing from my life.
For a large part it is because I don’t get out . Other than going out to the mailbox at the front of the house, I stay in. I see the same walls, the same clutter, the same very familiar surroundings.
A relative passed away last weekend. They were terribly close, but I remember them from childhood and playing with their children when I was little. I remember them from those large family gatherings like weddings and funerals — where family members that went to different churches than yours went to came to. There was always an interesting feeling of completeness and that all was well with the world when your extended family might come together… perhaps not for a funeral of course.
I am meaning the times when you saw Great Uncles and Aunts and second cousins and first cousins once removed and were reminded that your parents had cousins and your Grandparents had brothers and sisters too.
But with the passing of one of your parent’s cousins — not long after losing a parent — really marks a part of the whole issue behind compulsive hoarding — at least one root for many. For many the issue is that of loss. There is a fear of loss. Many start hoarding when they lose a loved one. For some it is losing a child in infancy. For some it is loss of a parent or spouse.
For others, there is just a need for stability and a knowledge that friends seem to move away and so many relationships in their lives change, even in childhood. There is a need to create a nest of stability where “things” create a form of emotional stasis.
I reality a hoarder would very much probably wish there was a way to keep family and friends close by. But they know it isn’t healthy or possible. They know that it isn’t right to be possessive of people — or perhaps ones that don’t understand become jealous stalkers? In any case, recent losses make me realize that essentially I have created my own little museum, which is why it is so hard to lose any “artefacts”. They all have meaning to me — even if they are broken, even if they are junk.
I don’t quite know how to fix that though. I am working on that. First to get rid of the stuff I can. Actually I have gotten rid of a lot. However the more of the easy stuff I get rid of, the more I get down to just the difficult choices.
Bye for now,