I Can't Look Away

Disclaimer: This is NOT my house

Hoarders on A&E is a television show that deals with people who are clinically diagnosed with a disorder in which they hoard things. They never throw anything away and continue to accumulate stuff. Most of the time their homes are unsafe, unsanitary, and cluttered so much it's hard to maneuver inside at all.

One man used to spit in a cup and save his spent saliva in an orange juice container because his plumbing no longer worked and he couldn't get to his bathroom sink through all the clutter. Another woman lived with 30 cats who defecated and urinated on everything in her house--that she still lived in. When the cleaning crew came through, they found many of the cats diseased, living in their own filth, and others dead and buried under a ton of household crap, all while the old biddy bitched and complained about people throwing out her things. Mind you, this was after her house had been condemned by the city.

I don't know why, but this show fascinates me. I'm far from a perfect housekeeper, but I've never not been able to walk through my hallways because I'm stepping through mounds of clothing and/or refuse.

I realize hoarders suffer from a real mental illness. The question remains: how can anyone collect so much continued to bring things home they can't emotionally or financially afford, and not want to throw at least something away?

A common trend I've noticed among those diagnosed as hoarders is a tragic loss somewhere in their past. That by holding onto things they can hold onto the memories of those most dear. Some of the hoarders are children of hoarders, and several of the psychiatric doctors on the show mention a possible genetic link between those with the disorder. In any case, I wonder what's it's like to not be able to part with anything. Even trash? Balls of dog fur??

I don't have a problem steering clear of reality television. I don't like the invasive, sometimes tawdriness of exploring people's private issues. But Hoarders is compelling TV. Call me crazy--God knows I've been called worse. Now I have to go tidy up my desk, because I feel an intense need to throw something away.

(On a side note, I am determined to somehow work this dysfunction into one of my characters in a future novel. A child of a hoarder, perhaps? Make for an interesting dynamic, at the least.)