One Wee Spark

Forgive me. You've been so kind to follow and read my posts in the past. I've been busy. Not too busy for my readers; I deeply appreciate you. Just busy. But back in the Fall, I was super busy speaking at conferences in Washington State and California, primarily on the effects to the child who grows up in hoarding. It was tough to speak on such a personal topic. I know you understand. I speak all the time. To social workers; to municipal employees and agencies; to mental health providers; to the community-at-large; to magazine, news channel and newspaper reporters. But this Fall, I took on a new stage, literally, at TedxSpokane--'Knowing It Again.' I did it for you. For your friends who don't get it. For your HPs who don't know they need help or understanding. For our children whose generation can do better. Please feel free to share this. As far as I can tell, this is the first TedTalk done specifically on hoarding. This message needs to get o...

It was six years ago this fall that my mother fell in between the piles of trash , treasures and trinkets in her home, leading to the most difficult season in my life thus far. I wandered through that period with few resources and guides. It wasn't that no one else had been in a similar situation. It was that so many families and individuals were keeping the hoarding secret held so closely and tightly that I did not have access to their knowledge, their experience, their wisdom. Swirling Question, courtesy of flickr But no more! More and more families are sharing their secrets and offering advice. My brothers and sisters from the hoard (along with myself) are finding our voices and helping others find their way through these tough situations. If today you find yourself on the brink of a forced hoarding intervention, or if you simply know that someday you may find yourself there , I hope you will head over and check out this list of questions I've put together. Helping ...

When I first offered the Buried in Treasures Workshop in May 2012, I had a shortsighted view of what we were doing. My goal initially was to educate myself on hoarding behaviors and learn to help my mother. I fell into the group process accidentally--because the structure for help was a group format, and because as I tried to make sense of my life in relation to my mother's hoarding behaviors I had gone public. I became the most accessible point of hoarding information in Spokane. My focus was on the "now," and did not extend beyond the 20 weeks it would take to hold the workshop by much. I knew I needed to make ongoing, long-term support after the workshop available but my vision into the future didn't extend very far. (Borrowed from the Internet, original source unknown)

Borrowed from thewatershed.com As a child growing up in the emotional and environmental chaos that is a hoarded home, I believed that somehow my desire to change or help my mother find her own change was enough. Psychologists call it magical thinking, and it occurs for all children to differing degrees. Magical thinking is the belief that a child has that somehow their actions initiate or stop other actions that are independent of their actual abilities.  But many children grow up to become broken, hurt adults (as I am and continue to overcome) that have not been able to identify how their magical thinking is simply that... M  A  G  I  C  A  L.

Paul Marcarelli, the writer of Clutter, shared with the audience after the world premiere showing in Seattle that he originally had planned to write a film about a home stager breaking into her career. Instead, Marcarelli birthed the first film to focus fully on hoarding disorder (HD) and the effects of living and growing up in a hoarded home. The Bradford family is really no different than most other American families, searching for the next “thing” to make them feel good enough, safe enough, something enough. Carol Kane ( Taxi, Beetlejuice ) takes on the role of Linda Bradford, a mother whose collection-ing is intensified by a traumatic life event, leaving her to raise three children in a home that has everything except enough room to breathe. “You’ll have to take me out of here kicking and screaming!”  Linda warns her adult children after the home is condemned due to the overaccumulation of stuff and the visitors such living has attracted. Faced with ...

It is with great joy and humility that I announce that we are offering another facilitated self-help group in Spokane, Washington for those who struggle with an excessive accumulation of things, clutter, and/or hoarding! Lightening the Load, a ministry of Sheltering Tree Church announces the 2nd Buried In Treasures Workshop! Beginning on Wednesday, 12/12/12 at...you guessed it! 12 Noon! The workshop consists of 15 two-hour sessions, and ends in early May.

It's been a while since I've posted on here...but I felt like today, I should share this thing I'm in the middle of. It's not a bad thing, per se...but it involves perhaps one of the toughest elements of change--embracing a new perspective about oneself. In other words, I am embracing "the real Ceci G", and becoming comfortable with who she is, further defining what I am not, and looking more realistically at what I can become. It's as if, in some ways, I'm looking at the whole world in a new perspective simply by looking more honestly at me.

Last summer, I had the humbling privilege of meeting with a group of approximately 20 adult "children of hoarders" at the Dante House, with our host, Dr. Suzanne Chabaud . Dr. Chabaud was preparing to open her online survey of adult children from hoarded homes, and this group came together to share commonalities, offer support, and to become empowered to make change for others like us, especially those children who might still be living in a hoarded home. One of my colleagues, Momma B, as I call her, has been writing for years as a way to move through the chaos of her childhood. Her blog is on my list over there <--------. But just recently, her book by the same name, Nice Children Stolen From Car, became available for purchase. http://www.amazon.com/Nice-Children-Stolen-Car-1/dp/1475192630/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1337734821&sr=1-1 I strongly encourage you, no! I beg you! to click on the link and purchase Barbara Allen's book. Plus, if you...

Maybe you've wandered over accidentally; you're blessed not to have a parent who hoards. That's not to say that your life is perfect. I know we all take our lumps. But it's entirely possible you've wandered to my little corner of the world, and you wonder... What's the big deal about growing up in a home chock-full of stuff? It's just stuff, right? Only it's not. It never was just stuff; it will never be about the stuff. I distanced myself from my mother less because of the embarrassment about the house and the stuff, and primarily because of the way life feels in the hoarded home.

It's drives my husband crazy when we go to bed, but I find the sound of a ticking clock very comforting and relaxing. Perhaps it reminds me of my mother's heartbeat in utero? I don't know. It just is what it is.

Today is Valentine's Day, in case any of you haven't already heard. It was also group night. With a newspaper article in the local paper since our last meeting, I was feeling very optimistic that tonight, I would not be THE group. And I wasn't disappointed. Five minutes till seven, he walked in. We'll call him Grandpa Joe. He is NOT the adult child of a hoarder. He's a hoarder, admittedly, and he is looking for help. We sat and spoke to Joe for 45 minutes. He told us about his current project, clearing out an estate. Apparently, the woman who has passed on had a strong desire for Christmas decorations. He had already moved three loads of Christmas decor from her home TODAY. The last load was still in his SUV outside.

I grew up in a house that was far from "Home Sweet Home". The conditions of my home, the relationship between my mother and myself, and the dichotomy of my self at home and my self outside of the home stripped any positive connotations from the word home. I'm not alone.  Last summer, I was blessed to be part of a small group of adults who grew up in homes like mine. Our wonderful hostess and champion, Dr. Suzanne Chabaud, invited us to join her in New Orleans for a Summit of adult-children of hoarders. She welcomed us to the Dante house with open doors, and open arms. All of us were touched deeply by our experience. This week, I got the opportunity to return to visit Dr. Chabaud. My brothers and sisters from the hoard were not all here, and so the dynamic was different, but when I walked through the back door of the Dante house and through the kitchen, I was transformed. Where my childhood home had so many negative memories attached to it, this house has on...

"White lies" became a regular and normal part of my childhood. I've heard others tell stories about the elaborate tales of renovation that were built and concocted to keep friends and family away from the family home, the hoard. I was never that creative. I would say something along the lines of the house being a mess, believing that no one would truly suspect the truth--the house was a MESS! It hit me recently that I still have trouble telling the truth in situations where it really doesn't make a difference whether I tell the truth or not. It disturbs me to think that telling a half-truth or painting a beautiful deception is not only easy for me, but that my moral compass does not readily stop me from doing it. Borrowed from Mark Pocan, WI representative, personal blog For instance, I have told a lie about my abilities in gymnastics and tumbling since I was a small child. I'm not sure how the lie first reared its ugly head, but like a zit that is touched...

This hasn't been a bad week by any stretch, but my energy level has been nil since Wednesday afternoon. I don't know if it's because I had put so much energy into being right on the news interview, or because I donated blood that afternoon, or maybe it's just been a week with more need for energy than sleep obtained. It doesn't matter.

More than an extra Borrowed from "Asphyxia" on Squidoo dot com For most of my life, I've lived as though I were simply an extra in the film of life. I showed up, I did my part, but I didn't make any decisions, I didn't have a voice of my own, and I sure didn't take (or get) any credit for my role. This is the fate that growing up in a dysfunctional home handed me. For a while. No matter what background I come from, I hold a powerful tool in my hands. It's called choice.

Something I've struggled with for just about as long as I can remember is an ability to dream and plan. For most of my adult life, if you asked me where I wanted to be, what I wanted to achieve in the next five years, I'd look at you with a blank stare. Who me? Borrowed from YourSoulGuidance dot com I have no idea!

The holiday season is almost over, and I hope that each of my readers had a wonderful time with family and friends. I realize, however, that quite possibly, that was not the case, especially regarding our HPs. And so, my motto for the New Year is simply this: "I can't change my HP, but I can change my response to my HP." I will never have to power to fix my mom, make her different, or even bargain with her to lasting change. I can, and have, spent years trying to do these things with no effect. However, the second I set about to change ME , my mother seemed to change to. I can't promise that if you change how you respond to your HP that they will change. However, I can promise that when you turn your energies inward to changing the only person you can effectively make better, you will care less about your HP's neuroses. Please don't misunderstand me. I'm not suggesting that you won't care about their mess and their mental health issues, their won...

Recently, I found myself in a situation that has become more unfamiliar to me these days. I found myself in a place where I couldn't find my hope reserves and cling to it. I was angry, tired, and frustrated. I wanted to yell out, "Stop this bus, I want to get off!" But I didn't. Instead, I decided I wanted to try something different. I longed to wander, to see new places, to leave behind what was familiar. I didn't want to leave to seek a solution; I wanted only to leave it behind, ignore it, pretend it wouldn't follow me, and "fix it now".

When you were a kid, did you ever go into a fun house with all those crazy mirrors? One transformed you from   a petite child of 4'2" into a child the height of an NBA star, yet another made you resemble the figure of the Pillsbury dough boy, and another appeared to give you a perfect hourglass figure. It was fun, but temporary. When you left the immediate area, you were still the same person as you had been before you entered the fun house and glanced into those mirrors. No matter how silly you felt before the mirrors, you could walk away and return to "normal". Or perhaps, if you were like me, with issues about your body, you enjoyed the few moments of "correction" and were sad to see it end and return to the same old, not-quite-what-you'd-hoped-for "me".

I challenge each and every one of you to do this! Just follow the steps below...we can have a voice...for free! 1.  Go to:   http://therapists.psychologytoday.com/rms/ Enter your zipcode. 2 . Click on a  provider's name . In my example, I used zipcode 99205, and chose Michael Chessar Counseling Services. This took me to his listing page, where I clicked on the link: "Email us" under contact info. This will open a new page. 3.  Enter your name (If you are concerned about being identified...you can use the standard format from recovery groups--for me, Ceci G). Use of email address and phone number are encouraged, but at your discretion. 4.  I've written this simple script with bit.ly links to the research article and the online table of questions. You can change it if you want: I'm adult child who was raised in a hoarded home. I live in your area, and yet, I feel invisible. Did you know that a research study has been conducted...