Some people, myself included, have a real problem throwing anything away. We, unfortunately, end up with stacks of boxes stuffed with all manner of odds and ends, sometimes with things that we’ve retained, but not used, for so long that we have trouble remembering why we kept them in the first place.
There’s a word for people like us: hoarders. Hoarders came in all varieties, from the annoying ones who have those stacks of memorabilia crowding the garage and basement, to the stereotypical movie/TV hoarder whose home or apartment is a maze of boxes and folded newspapers in which the unwary can become lost.
All joking aside, the hazards of hoarding are more than just subject matter for quirky TV shows or a nightclub-comedian’s punchline about “finding lost relatives under a pile of vinyl records.” Whether it’s stacks of 1960 National Geographics, a lifetime supply of twist ties, or a basement full of ‘potentially useful’ bread bags, hoarding comes with a unique set of perils that even the most sentimental can’t laugh off. I’ll admit that there’s a certain thrill from rediscovering an old baby photo or an autographed theater program, but the risks of hoarding are all too real, though sometimes almost hilariously absurd.
Let’s start with the obvious: tripping and falling. The classic image of a hoarder’s home is a labyrinth of tottering towers of boxes, magazines, and assorted junk. Working your way through these piles is like auditioning for “American Ninja Warrior: Collector’s Edition.” One wrong step and you’re reenacting the fall of the Roman Empire. You could even end up unconscious under a pile of boxes. Is that the way you want your children to find you? I think not.
Then, there are the fire hazards. Firemen have nightmares about the kindling-rich environments that hoarders create. All it takes is one errant candle or a length of faulty wiring to trigger a blaze that will whip through your ten-year-old collection of comic books faster than an East Texas tornado. I know this from sad personal experience: faulty wiring started a pre-dawn fire in my garage in 2021, which ignited all the boxes of old files and manuscripts so quickly that within twenty minutes, the entire house was ablaze.
Luckily, the bedroom was at the opposite end of the house, and the smoke alarms gave us enough warning to enable our escape unharmed, but everything else, including two cars, was totaled.
Pests are also fans of hoarding. You might think you’re a connoisseur of rare collectibles, but so are mice, roaches, and the occasional raccoon. To them, your attic, garage, or basement is a five-star resort and restaurant. Nothing says ‘welcome’ like a box of old Girl Scout cookies that hasn’t been opened in five years.
Hoarders are often blissfully unaware of the communities that develop in their piles of junk until they rebel during one of their rare cleaning sprees.
The hazards of hoarding are not limited to bumps, burns, and bugs. There’s also the emotional toll. Friends become too busy to visit, and family members stage ‘interventions’ disguised as yard sales. Even the most patient partner’s affection can be tested by finding another hidden stash of newspaper clippings that you haven’t read since cutting them out of the paper and stashing them in a box.
The bottom line is that hoarding is a serious matter dressed up in a nostalgic costume. The hazards, physical, emotional, or social, are always there, ready to pounce like a cat when someone who’s allergic to cats visits. It’s not an easy habit to break, but just remember the next time you hesitate to toss that extra phone charger from the flip phone days, that the real treasure might be a little less clutter underfoot, or at the very least, a clear path to the fridge.
Hoarding is a hard habit to break, but like smoking or overeating, you take it one day, one tossed-out box at a time. Or, like me, you break it cold turkey when a bit of faulty wiring forces you to. | NWI
