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Showing posts with label Psychology Today. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Psychology Today. Show all posts

Friday, November 13, 2015

Hoarding, Mess, and Barry Yourgrau

I want to think that everyone has a closetful of plastic bags.
Barry Yourgrau's MESS, required hoarder reading


The city of Evanston banned plastic grocery bags, the ones we see caught in the branches of trees, if we look up. The good news is that we can now choose between a bag made out of tougher paper (they still break) or new sturdy, shiny plastic bags that talk.
Recycle!

We're supposed to bring them back to the store to use them next time.

This never happens. They remain in the trunks of our cars because who can remember to shlep something out of the trunk of the car to shop? But the thought of reusing things is nice.

Chinese gift bags

The cynic in me thinks of an Iranian relative somewhere on the family tree who made his fortune many years ago in the shopping bag business. Smart guy.

On a recent vacation, I found the shopping bags in China so crisp, new, and easy on the eye that throwing them away proved challenging. I paused before giving gifts to relatives. A voice inside whispering,  
Keep the bag.
It shouldn't hurt to throw things away, but the illustrated panda and the fortune-cookie script in Chinese-- priceless. Such things keep memories fresh, like photographs, but not being much of a pack rat, seeing the bag is wrinkled, it is history.

Similarly, had there been two panda bags, only one would have made it to  the closet with the good bags in the first place. (closet not shown).

Let's get serious and take a look at the features of Hoarding Disorder to determine what is pathological, what is not. Because lately, a lot of people are nagging other people to get rid of perfectly good stuff. 

Hoarding Disorder (F42) DSM 5 (not word for word but close, page 247)

A) Persistent difficulty discarding or parting with possessions, regardless of their actual value.
B) The difficulty is due  to a perceived need to save the items and to distress associated with discarding them. 
C) The difficulty discarding possessions results in an accumulation that congests and clutters living areas and substantially compromises their intended use. 
D) The hoarding causes clinically significant distress or impairment in social, occupational, or other important areas of functioning (including maintaining a safe environment).
E) The hoarding is not caused by another medical condition, such as a brain injury, or cerebrovascular disease)
F) The hoarding is not better explained by the symptoms of another mental disorder.
We're to specify if there is excessive acquisition, and if insight into the condition is either good, fair, poor, or delusional. 80-90 percent of this clinical population fit excessive, most with hoarding spending habits. But many of us hoard freebies, like gift bags. Few steal. 

The word persistent refers to a life long condition, not having acquired an inheritance (a garage full of incredible stuff). Most hoarders believe in the value of their possessions. Many are simply sentimental fools. There are combinations.

Also a feature of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, holding onto possessions is a way to defend against intense contagion fear. Keeping something serves to protect others from the perceived biological contagious quality of the item. Hence there might be rancid, putrid, moldy things among the possessions of those worst afflicted.

Animal hoarders probably fit in there with obsessive compulsive personalities.

Someone with this disorder might feel defective, incomplete. Surrounded by things fills us up.

It is also a familial disorder, fifty percent see it in other family members. That said, a traumatic event might precipitate safety in hoarding.

It is not an easy problem, not for the person who has it, not for family members.

We think that because the thought of discarding acquisitions causes distress, that hoarding behavior is intentional, even when it is dysfunctional to the degree that there is no room to move, a narrow snake path left, maybe, for a visitor to find the bathroom (although visitors tend not to be welcome). Piles of newspapers or National Geographics decorate beds, take the place of mattresses. This would be where back issues of Psychology Today, the ones we'll never get around to reading, might go. A hoarder will frequently sleep in a chair rather than chuck items on the bed.

It could be because as humans we're members of the animal kingdom. Take hamsters. Once while house-sitting the dog and a family hamster, the hamster escaped! He had been planning it for weeks, for sure, but when we found him, had an excellent stash of candy and dog hair that he couldn't possibly have acquired on such a short vacation. He had priors.

This nest could have meaning, could be what hoarders are up to.

Barry Yourgrau, in his beautiful memoir, MESS, describes his struggle to get rid of his clutter. The fear of losing the love of his life, who insists he make her dinner in his apartment, motivates him to change.

Forget that the writing is so strong, which it is, and that you will learn new words, like flaneur. In an effort to clean up his act, Mr. Yourgrau tries different methodologies,a multivariate approach. Family therapists don't believe in any one size fits all cures to life's obstacles, and because people with hoarding disorder in particular tend to be indecisive, trying everything is the way to go.

Barry's scientific approach:

(1) He studies up on famous hoarders and visits them to learn more about himself, You don't have to be a journalist or hunt any of these people down, it is all in his book, makes for an interesting who-done-it. People with this diagnosis can be exceedingly private.

(2) He attends Clutterers Anonymous meetings, reinforcing the therapy adage that we are only as sick as our secrets. Hearing what other people are doing, feeling, hating about themselves is the great normalizer. Plus the stories are compelling and true.

(3) He hires professional declutterers to help him get rid of things, a very brave and painful process. But love is a great motivator, and losing the love of your life, a person who will take you to far away places to buy shiny new things and an endless buffet of bags, is not something you want to do. Lose your clutter, find yourself.

(4) Which is the process of therapy, too. Barry goes through a few therapists before finding the right one. Finding a therapist is like finding a 12-Step meeting you like; try six before you give up. He shares the experience, the ah ha moments, only briefly touching upon being a twin. Being a twin, imho, can account for much of the psychodynamics of the disorder.
Maybe Barry Yourgrau was blue. MESS




Twins tell me that they are particularly cautious, even zealous about their belongings. They are forced, even in utero, to share! The competition for resources never really stops, either. Whatever the other has, even as an adult, can seem better than what you have. And nobody talks about it because it is like talking trash (no hoarding pun intended) about yourself. Even arguing with one's twin can be like arguing with oneself. What you do get is a color, and you are glad for that. You are the one in the orange.

So the author has that going for him, along with the fact that he moved so much during childhood, and moving is associated with hoarding, so much interruption, so much down-sizing. A person wants to hang onto their things, especially if they seem ephemeral, which goes along with never throwing anything away, even when you can replace them at will, as an adult.

The excuse, one of the many, is that everything might be useful one day. We have our comfort stashes, old medications,paint cans with an inch of paint or less. Add your example here.

Well maybe not all of us. The spouse of a Marine, a career service guy, once told me that she couldn't bring home a new blouse unless she gave away an old one. A Marine might have a watch collection, however.

What is the difference then, between a hoarder and a collector? If Mr. Yourgrau acquired only specific things and organized them systematically, even if there were a lot of them, he would be a collector. So there is that out.

But if your basement is really one big train set, you might reconsider the whole idea, make room for a ping pong table, just to stretch your identity.

And if the plastic bags are everywhere, just toss them.

therapydoc.




Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Snapshots December 2012

You know that therapists have to be out of their minds to go on vacation this time of year.  It borders on unethical.

And yet.

Off we go. Some of us.

And since you can't always rely upon your therapist, and many people don't even have a therapist, and considering that holiday anxiety starts before Thanksgiving (for some at Halloween), and that we spend the week after Thanksgiving processing Thanksgiving, consider reading Elizabeth Bernstein on Dysfunctional Family Bingo.  Amy Johnson, a doc in Detroit made up the game.

You play it with the people you would never have friended on Facebook if they hadn't been first or second degrees.

(1) Sandwiched

My grandson, age ten, has the window in Row 16 to my right.  He's taking his first trip to the South to visit his cousins. A well-mannered young man in his thirties has the aisle.

The one who just hit double digits is playing Shark Attack on his Ipod. He's tilting the device in four different directions, probably at least five times a second. A tilt. The shark will not eat tonight.
Shark Attack With Fewer Calories

Bike Race
The young man on my left is playing a similar game on his Ipad, except that he is tilting even more vigorously.

He's deftly steering a bicyclist down a mountain, then across a desert, trying to avoid that predictable ending, the crash.

The whole experience, being in the middle of this energy makes me feel old.

(2) On Feeling Old

My mother says that if you're past fifty and you don't hurt somewhere, you're probably dead.

It's a decade birthday for me and it has been wonderful-- best presents in years, the best cards.  But it still feels sad.  You look back and you wonder. . . look back. . . wonder.  Mostly look back.

My brother texts me:

Happy Birthday!  All birthdays are good birthdays.

Love,

Your Much Younger Brother

(3) Addicted
Spider Solitaire on the Computer, too

I can't talk about the kids and their gaming, not when my Spider addiction in full-throttle. I hate that I choose Solitaire before bed lately over reading real books.

I hate this volunteering to dumb down.

But it always works, numbs me.

But having it on my phone, I can see, something has to give.  I'm using during the day! And denial has set in, is telling me that writing about it, the jones will go away.

Most likely, nah.  So what is next?! Do I need to join a support group?  Perhaps create one? Now there's something to add to my Psychology Today therapist profile.

I could open the meeting, start with:
Hi. I'm therapydoc and I have a problem with electronics, mainly my phone. (pause)
I have texted while driving.
Anyone running such a group should emphasize these four dynamics:
(a) Empathy for those who are not addicted to electronics. These people are often insulted when we take calls in the middle of a conversation. They are deservedly hyper-sensitive, assume we think them less interesting, less intelligent, less important than an incoming text, an email, or whatever it is that is beeping or blinking in our pocket.
(b) The draw is precisely this, attention. Needing and seeking attention, applause. The ego is starving, craves the love, the beep, the ring. We're social animals, fairly helpless when it comes to wanting to be noticed. 
(c) It is important to let go of enablers, friends who are like us, who don't bat an eye at what some would consider egregiously poor social etiquette. Enablers are forgiving, more than happy to see another addict imbibe. You feel better about yourself, a person who also can't resist staring at an electronic device over looking into someone's eyes.  You are in good company.
It's like, I'm drinking in the middle of the day, you should too!
(d) Finally, if you must answer the phone, try, "I'll call you back later, I'm pretty tied up right now, can't talk."
Tied up?  Living, is what we used to call it.

 (4) The Naked Eye
Sea Anenomes

We're at the Georgia Aquarium, an amazing museum, and if you know me you know that nothing makes me happier than a salt water fish tank with a couple of healthy fish swimming around. It totally takes me in and there's nothing electronic about it, unless we're talking electric eels or filtration systems.

But I have an electronic device with me, my phone, so I'm snapping pictures constantly, want to bring home my memories.

In other words, I'm at the aquarium thinking about a screen-saver.

Jelly Fish, therapydoc

Salt water fish Screen-Saver

Sea Dragons, therapydoc

(5) Putting Kids to Sleep

There are so many wonderful things about life, and grandchildren are at the top of the list. When you visit them you relish them, life itself. Blessings, you think. You get into a seriously grateful mode.

My oldest granddaughter seems to really like me, and when it is bedtime, I get the honors.  She insists that I tell her a story, sing her a song (my pick!) and say the bedtime prayers.  There is perhaps nothing more delicious than this.

So we're in her bed and she's under the covers and I'm on top of the covers, but we are eye to eye. Hers are so large it is nothing short of intimidating.  We have a discussion about teeth and brushing. The song, the story, the ritual is over, and she's supposed to go to sleep now.

She grabs me around the neck, hugs me tight. "Don't go. Don't go now and don't go back to Chicago tomorrow.  Stay one more day.  Miss your flight."

This is an old routine. She's been doing it for years. She's not yet seven, so not too many years. But she's good.

My job is to tell her I'll stay a little longer, and she's content with that.  She's very tired. She did walk that entire museum and her little legs worked double time.

As her eyes close, mine are looking for my phone.  I see it on her desk and get up to grab it. She sees me, pounces.  "You said you would stay!"

I did, indeed.

So I stay. And it occurs to me that in this special moment, a once in four months moment at best, a big part of me just wants to check my phone.

This is not living in the moment. It is not living rich at all.

When we're about to leave for the airport, the carry-on bags are packed, much lighter now.  She is hugging her cousin. "Don't go! Stay another day!" A true drama queen.  He smiles a little smile, doesn't quite know what to say. He's only 10, looks to me for advice.

"He'll Skype with you!" I cry.  "We'll all try to be better at that, call and video-chat once a week."

In a couple of years they'll be saying, "See you on Facebook!"

We can only hope nobody needs a 12 Step program.

therapydoc

An Oh By the Way Post Script:  When Facebook took off, Ther Apy Doc had a page. But it got scary (you know I'm not very tough, have those home-invader thoughts, hate conflict, bullying, etc. ). My thinking, being terrified-- this will somehow come to no good. So down it goes.

But a few years (a few years!) later, it appears I have toughened up and the page is back up! TherapyDoc is still anonymous, too, despite the Facebook bias that if you can't identify yourself, if you're not man enough to tell the world who you are, then you probably don't belong in most clubs.

An admitted voyeur, one who loves looking into people's lives, this feels authentic. Therapists have that interest in the way people live, the way they think. And their faces, their clothes, too.

In Chicago when it starts to get cold, you look for friends.  Most of them are hibernating.  It takes very little coaxing to get them to go out for dinner with you. When they do, you feel you out-ate them since everyone is on a diet. Still, it is a great way to hear about the best sales.

So another way to find friends and not have to face the cold, would be Facebook. Nothing better than a good regression. Do you remember being very young and asking someone, "Will you be my friend?"  It took guts!

This could be a lot of fun.
Or it could be I'll have to take it down again.

Seems a good way to get book and movie recommendations.

Or show off pictures from an aquarium.

New name:  TherapyDoc Doc  (Doc is a last name, apparently).  Here's a movie of a few jelly fish.  My grandson took it with my Iphone..


Transitions

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