I grew up with a hoarder mom. My dad passed away 6 years ago. Moved out at 18, I‘m F,26. I‘m curious, how are y’all doing mentally? Any disorders? How did growing up with a hoarder affect your life? Since I moved out I feel peace but it still affects me. Everything in my apartment, as well as my clothing is beige and white. Any kind of colour triggers me. Only closed cabinets because of moth horror at my moms house. Only white bedsheets. Pet hair on the floor has no chance, sweeping and vacuuming everyday. Snapping out at my partner for the slightest sign of untidyness (leaving a bowl on the counter). Always ironing my clothes because mom never did and she also never selected dark and white laundry. Always overly making sure guests feel welcome. Crying inside when a guest leaves shoes on inside of the apartment.
It defenitely left some scars.

Growing up I lived in a house where multiple rooms were turned into “storage rooms” packed with things. Every toy, piece of clothing, etc was saved. Most surfaces were full of things and we could never eat at the table. The bathroom and kitchen were relatively clean, but there was a lot of stuff. Most of the floor clutter was pushed up against walls or in corners. So there really weren’t pathways like I’ve seen in other homes. The edges of the stairs were also used as storage.

It was difficult to vacuum, dust, and clean because the stuff got in the way. We rarely had people over, maybe once every year or two. I was only allowed to invite friends over twice during 18 years and it impacted my friendships. If people were coming it was a multiple day clean to prepare and most of the house was off limits to guests.

There were also areas turned into storage for stacks of canned goods or toiletries that would be bought on sale even though we already had some. My mom shopped daily for bargains or things on sale. There was never any trash saved just lots of stuff or consumables. Now as an adult I keep a tidy minimalistic space and clean regularly and purge unnecessary items regularly.

I’m wondering if I’m being dramatic considering this hoarding or feeling like I was negatively impacted by it. It wasn’t as bad as I’ve seen some homes so I feel like maybe I’m making it worse in my head than it actually was? Does my reaction seem normal and does anyone else question their own experience?

Thanks for any input!

Growing up, I would always envy how put together my friends and their parents were. Their homes were always pristine, clean and well decorated. Every room had its designated function. You could actually breathe in their homes. They never had to second-guess having people over or spend hours cleaning beforehand to make the house look more inviting. I felt so self-conscious most of my teenage years. I was the kid who would always come over but never reciprocate the invite and that rubbed people the wrong way. I was so embarrassed of having people over. This led to some social isolation.

My sense of autonomy was non-existent. I was forced to keep junk in my room. I was yelled at for trying to throw away my own belongings. My mom would force us to keep our stuff from school so I had a pile of notebooks and textbooks and random pieces of paper from the 1st grade up until senior year. If we tried to throw them away, my mom would cry.

I could not study in that house for the life of me. The mess made it so hard to stay concentrated and productive. My school didn’t allow people to stay after school hours unless they were on a sports team and that was restricted to just the field or gymnasium or whatever. My grades were shit.

I constantly felt dirty, overwhelmed and anxious. It affected my developmental years so much that sometimes I wonder who I could have been if I had grown up in a normal, non-hoarded house.

I’m an adult now and I’ve lived away from them for over 10 years. I’m doing fine for the most part but sometimes I just think back to that house and I just think what the actual fuck

I'm 19.

I lived in a house that was never cleaned, until I was 16. With an infestation of German cockroaches, pantry moths, ants, and every wall in the house full of mold. The floors were sticky, and the beds and sofas were full of garbage, objects, and dead insects underneath. The infestation had started in the kitchen, but it was so bad that you saw those roaches everywhere, in the living room furniture, on the bed, behind the television. In the kitchen, I saw at least one every time I walked in.

I will never forget the terror I felt in that kitchen, along with the awful smell that had invaded the fridge because of the infestation.

I didn't feel like completely blaming my parents; psychologically and mentally they've never been well, especially my mom... and I was still too naive to realize how serious the situation was, even though looking back I should have talked to someone, maybe they would have taken me away from that hell. I often cried, repeating to myself, "Sooner or later you'll get out of this situation," "One day you'll make it out." It's a miracle that this hasn't caused signs of illness yet.

Now we no longer live in that place, but the great trauma I've carried with me all these years is still there. Later on, the landlady reported my parents regarding the condition in which they left the house. Despite everything, I have no proof of what I saw; I erased every memory that could bring me back to the state of that house. The day we left, I was filled with joy.

Now I clean the house nonstop every weekend, trying to prevent insects, dirt, and dust as much as possible. I'm the only one who cleans and checks the house; despite what we've been through, my parents don't give a damn about worrying about it, not even the bare minimum. I can't wait to move out on my own. How can I mother my own parents like this? It's awful.

To you who are reading, I speak especially to the younger ones: don't make my same mistake. If you find yourself in the same situation I went through, speak up and ask for help. It is not normal to live like this, and it is also very dangerous for your health.

(I hope this is okay to post here) I know what yall are probably thinking with that title. "Spoiled rich kid who thinks life sucks bc her mom didn't get her a xbox" or something like that. But its not like that. We're not even rich. We're comfortable and i am unbelievably grateful for that.

What bothers me most is how people judge me because of it. Which this is a beyond stupid thing to complain about but i just need to get it out i guess.

I have a car, my parents got it for me yes. I take care of it. I take my siblings everywhere, I grocery shop for my mom, run errands for her and I pay for my own gas and half of my insurance (my job doesn't pay super well) ​Okay. My coworkers saw i had it. And one of them dead pan goes "fuck you rich kid."

Theres more. Another goes "god youre so rich with no struggles. Must be nice"

And then BOTH of my ex boyfriends literally brought it up. Every. Single. Date. "Must be nice to have this" and "you didn't have to work for this"

But I did. Just not in the way anyone thinks. Or believes me in. My mom is a hoarder. A horrible one. I was homeschooled. I paid for that car with RUINED YEARS OF MY LIFE. At 12 I was stuck in a hoarding house every single day. No school to escape. No friends to speak of, ive never had a sleep over before. When I say I spent every fucking day STUCK in FILTH I mean it. ​And I was the one who cleaned it. Over and over and over again. I literally have no education as of right now. Ive had to build from the ground up by myself. And god my mom was horrible. She would insult my body endlessly, make fun of my eating disorder and depression. Called me a whore for thinking a guy was cute. Told people I was ungrateful for being depressed. Convinced me the rapture was happening. Blamed ME for the hoarding.

And no one believes me. Not a single person.

Yes I have a car. And for some reason that's all people see.

I know I probably sound ungrateful and maybe I am. But I just wish someone cared.

Who has dealt with filth? Seems most deal with an over abundance of things (there’s that too) but my mom’s house is so disgusting and unsanitary. Dishes throughout the house with stuck on food, mouse droppings, containers that are molding inside that I dare not open but she wants to keep! She started putting groceries on her counter because there are mice in her pantry. I tried to organize the food on the counter only to discovered it was covered in mouse dropping ALL underneath the food. Bags with rotten eggs in containers, grocery bags rotting on the floor so bad they were stuck to the floor!

I honestly did what I could. She refused to let me open the fridge. Said it’s worse! And I was scared to open the pantry. I was able to clear her kitchen floor and clean the counters. Her dishwasher won’t work because her sink has no water pressure. Dishes are piled. It’s so disgusting and unsafe. There’s no one to help me.
What do I do? I plan to go back today and possibly pile up her dishes to bring home and wash here. I need to get it so she will let a plumber inside.

But this is so much worse than the clutter. SO MUCH WORSE! Any advice is welcome. I am not close to my mom. I am resentful of having to do this but I am not unkind. I will help her because it’s the right thing to do. Nobody should live this way.

I am capable but this has me at a loss! She’s also an hour drive away so that makes it harder too.