hoarders

I don't think any description I give is going to fully impress exactly how I feel, deep in my core, when/after I watch this show. This is maybe the second or third time in my life that an emotional response to something has made me physically feel sick, like a fist is lodged in the center of my chest, pushing its nubby little thumb toward my spine. It's dark in there. And I don't know why I do this to myself.

The first time I watched this show I was simply and utterly mesmerized, mostly in shock, I think, that people who lived in this fashion existed in reality. Well, at least in the reality most of us are a part of. They clearly don't have the same perception of said reality.

I've seen 4 episodes and there seems to be two types of hoarders: those who are lazy, want someone to pay attention to them, or simply don't give a shit to clean up their mess, and then those who are unequivocally mentally ill and absolutely cannot detach themselves from even the minutest of possessions. Sometimes we are even treated to the historical event that may have started the landslide. A single robust memory extricated from the mounds of plastic bottles, rotting food, and even feces, like a strand of creased tinsel.

This show makes me feel guilty for every insignificant memento I might keep. I am instantly compelled to clean something in the house, throw something away, get rid of any extraneous magazines. I actually and irrationally worry that I could sink into such an abyss.

I can see how it might start, with an odd bag of clothes you forgot to drop off at the Salvation Army so you toss it into the spare closet. Soon lots of forgotten things are added to the closet that never make it to where they are supposed to go.

But I can't see all the in-between stages where it starts to overflow from the closet to the bedroom to the hallway to the bathroom and on and on ad nauseam until you have to carve a path through the towering stacks of filth to get to the kitchen to use the microwave to heat up dinner because the stove is cluttered with dirty pans, empty glass jars, and feces.

Yes, feces. I have seen two episodes with multiple dead critters (two dead cats buried in the rubble and several crusty rats) and layers of feces (human and animal). This is usually when I start to have an anxiety attack because HONESTLY, who wouldn't notice they were missing one of their cats, let alone two? How are the red flags in these people's minds not screaming through bullhorns at this point?

So I turn off the show, tidy up the tv room, put away every single toy, and tell myself I won't watch another episode because that fist never fails to return. And then I do because I'm an idiot.