I wasn't sure where to make this post.
I'm confident that the moderation team will move it to a more appropriate forum.
Perversely, I've been watching some reality tv shows about hoarders. I can't seem to turn my eyes away, disturbing as it is.
One episode implied a genetic connection; another one nearly pin-pointed the faulty gene implied in the disorder.
My dad was a hoarder; we grew up with inadequate space to be kids; his stuff meant more than his relationships...yet, it was all good stuff.
In his case, it really was good stuff. It wasn't about old newspapers and dead cats, yet, we moved constantly, and his stuff required two large scale moving vans, and we kids (and ma) were only allowed a single box of possessions, and even these humble attachments came under his intense scrutiny, and its co-commitment humiliation.
Dad lived through the great depression; he was the ultimate 'self-made-man."
I can see why he had a bent toward having and holding 'stuff'.
We boys spent an inordinate amount of our childhood sorting, cleaning and schlepping his copious collection from place to place, as we dealt with the reality of temporary friendships.
My brothers and I evolved a neurosis that I would call "anti-hoarding syndrome".
I insisted on having a completely empty table, once I left home. I developed a zen aesthetic. I longed (and still do) to be naked and suspended; underwater, if possible. Stuff made me feel claustrophobic. It still does.
This reverse neurosis has cost me dearly, in various relationships.
And this has enabled me to see the logic of his choices, and what caused them in the first place.
In a hunter-gatherer culture, pre-glut fest, it makes complete sense to gather all you can. In 3rd world countries, it makes sense to route through the garbage heaps to eek out a meager living.
It's analogous to hunger: you eat all you can, naturally...and obesity follows suit, in that procuring food has become too easy...yet, we can't simply flip that switch.
In my dad's case, he managed to collect stuff of value, and redeemed himself in the later years, through running a junk/antique store; quite successfully, actually.
When he died, none of his kids had any interest in his vast accumulations: quite the opposite. We let it all get dumped, possibly for revenge. Years later, it has occurred to us that we squandered a fortune.
What is the point of this thread?
Possibly the relativity of neurotic behavior, and the definition of it...and how it moves, inelegantly, through generations.
So, I wrestle with the urge to possess nothing; to accumulate nothing; to give up none of my time fussing with objects, regardless of their worth.
And now, this feels so crazy to me that I feel that there should be a few reality tv shows that address this flip-side of the insanity.
I'm not sure if there even exists a 'syndrome' to express my reactionary disorder, yet, I feel that it might deserve addressing, in the long ride toward some form of the mythical sanity that we may strive toward.
This post is, hopefully, relevant in an odd way, and qualifies as a medical-type query. I'm curious if there are others amongst us that can relate to my off-the-cuff expressions. I resent the way that things occupy my time and efforts. We, collectively, appear to spend an inordinate amount of time and money, shuffling crap around, and creating space for it, even if it brings us no joy.
Thoughts?
