Don't Rock the Boat. Don't. Seriously.

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I met a hoarder not too long ago.

I'm not talking a minor pack rat, here.

I'm saying she could fully stock six Goodwill stores. Weekly. For the next four years.

Apparently her house was so full that there were merely trails to follow in the cardboard box jungle. Simply hints that a home lay buried in there, her own personal sepulcher, sculpted by the bricks of Ebay, Overstock, and Amazon deliveries, many of which had never been opened.

She was depressed.

Obviously.

She was a compulsive shopper.

Obviously.

She was in debt.

Obviously.

She never left the house.

Obviously.

She was in tears when I saw her.

And I had the nerve to actually make some suggestions as to how to solve the problem.

Say you: You didn't.

Say me: Oh, I'm afraid I did.

I couldn't help it. I'm a social worker. We like to think we can FIX it. RESOLVE it. Make it WHOLE. Like a vampire drawn to my prey, I got completely drawn in. I bit and I would not let go: "Here! Do this and this and this and then you'll feel all better!" (Whoo hoo! Resolution! Rock on with my bad self! Uh-huh. Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh. Fist pump! Twice!!)

I was met with a wall arguments and rationalizations at every turn.

Suggestion #1: Cut up the credit cards.

Well, they're all maxed out anyway. So she didn't have to. Never mind that as soon as she made a minimum payment on any one of them, there would be a tiny window of opportunity to buy again.

Suggestion #2: Start purging stuff immediately. Don't even look at it.

But she coul sell it! All she needed was some help organizing it.

Suggestion #3: Get someone to help.

But I've tried to!

Suggestion #4: Get rid of the internet connection at home.

Oh, HELL no. That was her lifeline! She did everything online!

Suggestion #5: Start with a very small room, the master bathroom for instance, and work your way outward.

But she's depressed!

See? This is why I'm not a therapist. ->