Since I started watching Hoarders on A&E, I have become fascinated by the topic. I have done as much online research as I can in the past few days on hoarding, and the more I learn, the greater my "a-ha" feeling becomes.
I can state with certainty now that my father (and my paternal grandmother) are hoarders. It's a mental illness that is just starting to be more understood. Right now, it's grouped under the OCD umbrella, but some article I read suggest that it might be re-categorized. It might sound strange to be happy that my father is mentally ill, but I can't describe the feelings of relief it brings me. All my life, I have carried around feelings of shame about myself that I wasn't good enough for him to love and feelings of anger toward him for not loving me enough. Now, I can accept the fact that he does love me, but he is also mentally ill and therefore unable to express those feelings in a way that made me feel like he loved me as much as I needed him to. It's not my fault. It's not his fault. And that makes me feel better because it removes the blame from the situation. I don't have to be angry at my dad anymore or beat myself up. I can just live my life.
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