Venting no escape from squalor

[dollangel]

no one really knows what squalor is. when people talk about "living in squalor" they mean their room is messy. they have dirty dishes or trash piled in a corner. they can still navigate the room with little to no difficulty. they don't know what 3rd degree squalor is like, or what that term even means, and they cannot comprehend it. they can see their floors, they don't have fly specks on everything they own, they don't have to pick bugs out of their food, they don't see spots in their vision and know it's a 50/50 chance of it being a bug crawling on them or a hallucination, not maggots everywhere. they don't deal with everything being soaked in excrement and the smell haunting everything, headache-inducing, nauseating. they don't have trouble walking around and have to wear shoes inside or their soles get caked black with dirt, they don't fall and bang into things and hurt themselves all the time, they have working appliances, they can have people in to fix things if they need to, they don't know. they don't know. it's not like I want them to ever learn.

it's not "mess." it's not even "filthy." it's the kind of thing you see on "Hoarders." the kind of thing people just call grotesque, inhumane, tragic. I remember my mom obsessively watching that show when I was little, and crying because our house looked like that. it still does. it's not for human beings. humans don't live like this. anyone who does live like this must not be human.

every day I wake up to this house and think "i can't do this anymore," nothing makes me want to kill myself more than waking up to this every day and knowing i have to keep doing it and that i will never get to live like a real human being or person. I will always just be an animal. I cry when I look at pictures of clean houses and seeing clear floors. I just want to live like a person. I just want to live like a human being

I have all these little habits ingrained into me. never open the door too much, block the gap with your body, because if someone sees inside the house they'll call the cops. can't ask for help because that'll get my mother involuntarily committed. "sent away." I remember being threatened as a kid that I couldn't ever let anyone know what my home life or house was like because if I did then CPS would take me away from her. and I don't want to be taken to a foster home, do I? I don't want to be taken away from mommy, do I? I was too young and scared of that to recognize it as a threat. it was just a kind warning. mommy just didn't want me to get hurt, that's all, after all, we were all each other had, all we have, isn't that right, that's why she'll kill herself if I ever leave

I've known others throughout my life who live in hoarder homes and every one of them is a child of a hoarder that hates their living situation more than anything, but even people who are otherwise compassionate view you as subhuman, can never look at you the same way again if they learn that you live - or even lived, past-tense - in squalor. mental illness is fine, but filth? being unhygienic? that's a sin like nothing else. you're no better than a dog, then. it shows in everything from how scornfully and judgmentally they talk about people with dirty cars or rooms, to those stupid "damn bitch you live like this?" memes. I hate it. I get so paranoid that I look dirty when I go out. that going out with her clearly unwashed and smelling reflects on me, that I'm dirty by extension, worrying about my ratty clothes. I hate it. I hate feeling dirty. I hate never feeling clean enough. I hate stressing about the smell carrying on my body or my clothes, somehow.

I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't do this. so often I think about calling 911 or something. I wish I'd never ever listened to a single person who told me to just tough it out until I was 18, survive until I was a legal adult, because that would give me more """power""" over myself, my situation, my agency. I resent and despise every single one of them. it didn't mean shit. it just means that now no one gives a shit about me anymore. at least if I'd called the cops when I was a kid I could've gotten out of here on grounds of child abuse. someone would've cared, it would've been a bad thing that happened to me. now I'm an adult and if anything at all I'm complicit. as if anyone would ever hear me out or act like I had a story at all. there aren't resources for me anymore. now I just have to do everything alone and no one will help me anymore. I'm not a person. I'm just a freak and a spectacle and a disgusting horror story that no one ever wants to be. that everyone thinks of as "at least I'm not that."

I can't even get out because I need a driver's license and I'm too stupid to study and too terrified of cars and driving to get behind a wheel without having a panic attack. I couldn't remotely afford it if I got into an accident. too stupid to study and cry every time I try and never make any progress but I have to have a GED if I'm going to get a job and I have to have a job because I need money if I'm going to ever get out of here but I'm disabled anyway and can't even stand up for more than a few minutes so what fucking job can I do anyway but I have no choice. I have no choice. I have no choice. and at the end of it all I'm STILL IN THIS FUCKING HOUSE. I still would have to come home to it every day still open the door when I get back and get hit with the wave of stench and want to kill myself. I have to live in this house while I do all of that and it would take god knows how long and it's so much. there's nowhere I can go. there's nothing I can do. and I've read stories from others, there's a forum for squalor survivors and people trying to get out of it, and these people post and then years after they come back like "well, it happened again" and I want to kill myself thinking about having to live in this cycle forever, how inevitable it is that this will stick with me for my entire life and I'll never be rid of it. I'll ruin every space I ever try to live in. I hate the idea of being nose-blind to bad smells for the rest of my life. I hate the idea that my space will never not smell like urine and I'll never know because I'll be the only one who can't smell it.

even though I know I can be better than this. my bedroom is the only room in the house that I have entirely to myself, that no one else can touch and that can actually have a closed door. and subsequently it is the only room in the house that doesn't smell, that looks like a human being lives in it. I'm not like her. I'm not like her with her room full of piss bottles and bed she lives in full of dishes and dog shit. I have to tell myself I'm better than her and I have to be better than her. sometimes I think this is definitely cause for at least a good chunk of my OCD ahahahahahaha

I remember when quarantine was still happening and people were describing how depressed and miserable the isolation was making them for even just a few months, and I thought about how absolutely nothing changed for me, this house was still my cage, I was still alone, still not speaking to anyone my age or anyone at all outside of appointments for a decade, and I realized, oh, anyone else in my situation would've killed themselves already. they're saying as much themselves. and that's with being stuck in their nice, clean, healthy safe homes. not stuck in this. and I feel so. so. so miserable.

I don't know. I wish I was a human being. I'm sick of excrement smell. I want to die. I'd rather be dead than live like this but the thought of my dead body being found in a place like this makes me even more miserable. I don't know i don't know i dont know.

 

[Forever Sleep]

I'm so sorry for your situation. If you live in the UK, this truly amazing lady does some cleans for free:



Truthfully, my home can get bad. Not excrement bad but still, embarassingly bad. It's only me to see it I suppose but then, it's me who has to make the effort to tidy it too.

What happens if you do try to tidy? Does your Mum just make mess again? Sounds like it is too overwhelming to tackle on your own though. Has your Mum always been like this or, did she change? I think it often is a traumatic event that can trigger this. I hope you can both get help.

 

[dialogos]

just like forever sleep said, does your mother interfere if you try to clean up the house? does she know you feel like this? if you're disabled, does your government provide aid?
you're overwhelmed and it's perfectly fine to feel this way but your cry for help means you want a change. if the government in your area provides aid for disability, then it could help out with your mom too.

 

[dollangel]

just like forever sleep said, does your mother interfere if you try to clean up the house? does she know you feel like this? if you're disabled, does your government provide aid?
you're overwhelmed and it's perfectly fine to feel this way but your cry for help means you want a change. if the government in your area provides aid for disability, then it could help out with your mom too.

I'm so sorry for your situation. If you live in the UK, this truly amazing lady does some cleans for free:



Truthfully, my home can get bad. Not excrement bad but still, embarassingly bad. It's only me to see it I suppose but then, it's me who has to make the effort to tidy it too.

What happens if you do try to tidy? Does your Mum just make mess again? Sounds like it is too overwhelming to tackle on your own though. Has your Mum always been like this or, did she change? I think it often is a traumatic event that can trigger this. I hope you can both get help.

in a way. she doesn't allow me to touch anything in her room, and any cleaning I do she quickly comes behind me and messes up, and even just daily upkeep feels impossible. I can't even get her to put dirty dishes in the dishwasher right next to the sink instead of piling them in there for stagnant water to make filthier and get worms in. I once spent hours clearing a space of just a couple feet in the kitchen floor and I watched her brush trash from other places onto the cleared floor. it's too much for one person to take care of on their own in the first place, but much less with someone else actively impeding progress

and theoretically I could apply for disability, but I don't know if I could qualify or not. I guess there's only one way to find out. but I don't have high hopes for it since technically on good days I can stand and walk around without a cane, even if not as much as an able-bodied person, and mobility/strictly required use of an assistive device seems to be a big part of qualification, so I don't know. and I know either way it'd take ages for it to ever go through..

if she qualifies for disability (which she should, since she's in much worse condition than me and her mobility is limited) she hasn't applied for it and I don't know why. I think I've brought it up to her before and she seemed resistant.

I've seen people who do these deep cleans, but truthfully I'm scared of something like that, being made into a spectacle, content, entertainment in a form, even if identities were withheld.. I've never seen anyone who does it in the area I live in, though, and I've asked around a bit. either way though my mother is extremely resistant to anyone coming in to help like that, paid or otherwise, equating it to killing her. she'll do whatever it takes to stop it if someone tries. like her shame at the state things are in matters more than our health and lives. I've been shown as much thoroughly by the fact she's allowed me to grow up in conditions like this. in that forum I mentioned most of the people there are middle-aged women like her, some with children, and one thing that really hurt was one of them telling me that reading about my experience made her want to work harder on getting better for the sake of her children, because she could see how much it hurt for me, and how that could happen to her own children, and she wanted to save them from that. and it felt like.. why does this complete stranger care more about me than my own mother? why is seeing my incredible pain enough for them, but not her?

about 13 years ago my father died shortly after a divorce ending a marriage filled with abuse from him. I have PTSD-induced amnesia so I don't remember if things were this bad before then but they definitely got infinitely worse after that. she's always lamenting how she used to be a good mother and things weren't like this when I was a little kid so I guess it must not have been.

 

[Forever Sleep]

in a way. she doesn't allow me to touch anything in her room, and any cleaning I do she quickly comes behind me and messes up, and even just daily upkeep feels impossible. I can't even get her to put dirty dishes in the dishwasher right next to the sink instead of piling them in there for stagnant water to make filthier and get worms in. I once spent hours clearing a space of just a couple feet in the kitchen floor and I watched her brush trash from other places onto the cleared floor. it's too much for one person to take care of on their own in the first place, but much less with someone else actively impeding progress

and theoretically I could apply for disability, but I don't know if I could qualify or not. I guess there's only one way to find out. but I don't have high hopes for it since technically on good days I can stand and walk around without a cane, even if not as much as an able-bodied person, and mobility/strictly required use of an assistive device seems to be a big part of qualification, so I don't know. and I know either way it'd take ages for it to ever go through..

if she qualifies for disability (which she should, since she's in much worse condition than me and her mobility is limited) she hasn't applied for it and I don't know why. I think I've brought it up to her before and she seemed resistant.

I've seen people who do these deep cleans, but truthfully I'm scared of something like that, being made into a spectacle, content, entertainment in a form, even if identities were withheld.. I've never seen anyone who does it in the area I live in, though, and I've asked around a bit. either way though my mother is extremely resistant to anyone coming in to help like that, paid or otherwise, equating it to killing her. she'll do whatever it takes to stop it if someone tries. like her shame at the state things are in matters more than our health and lives. I've been shown as much thoroughly by the fact she's allowed me to grow up in conditions like this. in that forum I mentioned most of the people there are middle-aged women like her, some with children, and one thing that really hurt was one of them telling me that reading about my experience made her want to work harder on getting better for the sake of her children, because she could see how much it hurt for me, and how that could happen to her own children, and she wanted to save them from that. and it felt like.. why does this complete stranger care more about me than my own mother? why is seeing my incredible pain enough for them, but not her?

about 13 years ago my father died shortly after a divorce ending a marriage filled with abuse from him. I have PTSD-induced amnesia so I don't remember if things were this bad before then but they definitely got infinitely worse after that. she's always lamenting how she used to be a good mother and things weren't like this when I was a little kid so I guess it must not have been.

I'm so sorry. A lot of what you've described makes sense. I can see how it would feel horrendous and shameful to her. I suppose I just wish I could think of something to help. These conditions must be psychological. Do you think she wants to change? Would she consider seeing a therapist do you think? Even remotely maybe?

 

[dollangel]

I'm so sorry. A lot of what you've described makes sense. I can see how it would feel horrendous and shameful to her. I suppose I just wish I could think of something to help. These conditions must be psychological. Do you think she wants to change? Would she consider seeing a therapist do you think? Even remotely maybe?

we used to both see the therapist I'm currently seeing (since I was a baby, over 20 years!), but she refuses to do it anymore since he spoke to her about her mistreatment of me several years back (malnourished) and she claims it broke her trust in therapy forever and he's a quack and she should've gotten his license revoked, and says she would probably benefit from it but makes it out to be my fault that she would have to lie to therapists forever if she ever did go back, etc etc.

it's fine, though. it's hard to think of anything, it is what it is. I've at least narrowed my options down a bit, they just all feel so insurmountable. but I do appreciate the concern, it makes things feel a little better

 

[Forever Sleep]

we used to both see the therapist I'm currently seeing (since I was a baby, over 20 years!), but she refuses to do it anymore since he spoke to her about her mistreatment of me several years back (malnourished) and she claims it broke her trust in therapy forever and he's a quack and she should've gotten his license revoked, and says she would probably benefit from it but makes it out to be my fault that she would have to lie to therapists forever if she ever did go back, etc etc.

it's fine, though. it's hard to think of anything, it is what it is. I've at least narrowed my options down a bit, they just all feel so insurmountable. but I do appreciate the concern, it makes things feel a little better

I guess no parent likes to be shamed. My Dad doesn't like the idea of therapy. I imagine in part because he fears he would end up being judged and blamed for certain things.

Your Mum does sound extremely set in her ways. I suppose the only other option is to try to move out. Although, it sounds as if you may depend on each other for care. I'm so sorry. It sounds such a difficult situation to be in.

 

[dialogos]

I'm so sorry to say this but for both your sakes ( I know I sound cruel but please hear me out, it pains me to say this) you have to get her committed temporarily till she gets better, then you the sane one can get control legally and then you can literally and figuratively clean up both your lives. please make extensive written records of what's been happening and video of what she does. you can approach free legal help with the public attorney at city hall. its for her own good and yours.

 

[froggirl9000]

I used to live in some form of squalor, though not nearly as bad as that. My mother is a hoarder and a shopping addict, that and the house (especially my room) had a black mold problem. Rats actually got into the attic and ceiling at one point, though that was resolved. I moved recently into my father's temporarily, shit's fucked in other ways, mostly my mother having to store some of our stuff here, but also lack of utilities such as hot water or gas, and my father's bedroom has a massive hole in the ceiling due to a pipe bursting years back. The bathroom is full of insulation that he ripped out of the ceiling and his grand plan is to cover the hole with plastic.

I guess I have only not lived in squalor in some form at one point during the last decade, in one of the many houses I've lived in, and that was just for a period of one whole year. Other times, even if the rest of the house has been fine, my mother has seen fit to store all her junk in my bedroom, to the point where one of the bedrooms I inhabited was incredibly difficult to navigate and completely messy because stuff was scattered everywhere. Stuff, all other people's, fuck all of it mine. But messiness was simply forced upon me. I was a kid, I couldn't organise an entire room's worth of junk that I didn't even consider mine to touch, it overwhelmed me.

I haven't lived near what you have, but dear god do I know even what I have lived through was hard. I've felt such shame living this way, and so overwhelmed by it all that I didn't even begin to know where to start to improve it. It felt like I could never have friends, or a girlfriend, or get close to people because they would find out. Find out that I live like this. That I'm disgusting. I didn't even want to expose anyone to this. It felt so isolating and I felt so powerless in the face of it all. I still do. I've been out of the moldy room for just a week and moved into this, and I'm still shit scared of the possibility of mold coming back. Of shit getting worse.

I look at my own behaviour and I worry that I am a hoarder, or that I will be one some day. It fucking terrifies me. I worry that I can never escape living like this again, that my living situations will always fall into squalor.

I'm sorry, OP. That's all I can really say to you. I'm so sorry.

 

[Kali_Yuga13]

My grandmom was a hoarder and I spent a lot of time there growing up. I remember the sense of deep shame and imprisonment all too well. In my experience hoarders are extremely controlling. Can you get some sort of councilor to help road map a permanent escape from that environment? You said you need a GED, job, driver's license and work on anxiety and self-esteem. Maybe you can find a local support group buddy to help you in some of these goals? Do you at least have your own bedroom to keep neat and clean or does she impose on that too? Reddit has a sub for hoarders and their family, maybe there's some specific help to be gained there too. I'm sorry you're going through this. Hoarding stuff is bad enough but when actual filth enters the equation it's a whole different level.

I look at my own behaviour and I worry that I am a hoarder, or that I will be one some day.

Unfortunately everyone in the family developed some hoarding tendencies after living with my grandmom for some amount of time. My mom got us out by the time I was two but I still had to go there after school and some time in the summers. I definitely have paper hoarding tendencies. I have collectively around 200 years worth of stuff to purge as a result of die-off. It's pretty sad, the important stuff like old pictures I don't have names or stories of who they were.

 

[SchizoPolyGymnast]

I'm absolutely a hoarder and am in active recovery. My mom is a hoarder. People absolutely look at you like you're garbage. They're all mental health awareness until it's inconvenient.

 

[dollangel]

Your Mum does sound extremely set in her ways. I suppose the only other option is to try to move out. Although, it sounds as if you may depend on each other for care.

yeah, she's made things so that we're codependent and I can't stand it. I haven't been my own person for a very very long time. just her emotional support dog. I can't go anywhere because she's made it so I need her and she needs me, she's not capable of taking care of herself on her own and refuses to do anything that would help her gain any independence, and at this point I think it's entirely because she doesn't have anything else in her life but me. she always threatens suicide and/or equates it to killing her/taking away everything she has [to live for] at the idea of if I leave

I'm so sorry to say this but for both your sakes ( I know I sound cruel but please hear me out, it pains me to say this) you have to get her committed temporarily till she gets better, then you the sane one can get control legally and then you can literally and figuratively clean up both your lives. please make extensive written records of what's been happening and video of what she does. you can approach free legal help with the public attorney at city hall. its for her own good and yours.

it's okay, I've thought this a lot myself, and even others in the forum have encouraged me to do what I have to because the alternative seems to be me dying here to anyone else ahaha. I just have a really hard time with the ethics of doing so because we absolutely don't have anywhere close to good mental healthcare here and wards are awful I know from experience, and what could happen if I'm unsuccessful in convincing it's necessary, the fallout that would occur as a result of this, if I'd be even further ostracized from what little family connection I have, etc etc etc. it would at the very least be thousands of dollars to get someone in to clean conditions like this because it's not just trash, it would need like, biohazard people. I don't know if I'd ever have enough money for it and we've already been bailed out and she's ruined it again so many times that I want to die thinking about taking advantage of family's help AGAIN so I don't.. know.

1. Can you get some sort of councilor to help road map a permanent escape from that environment? 2. You said you need a GED, job, driver's license and work on anxiety and self-esteem. Maybe you can find a local support group buddy to help you in some of these goals? 3. Do you at least have your own bedroom to keep neat and clean or does she impose on that too? 4. Reddit has a sub for hoarders and their family, maybe there's some specific help to be gained there too. I'm sorry you're going through this. Hoarding stuff is bad enough but when actual filth enters the equation it's a whole different level.

1. I'm working on that with my therapist right now but his goals have never really seemed to align with mine/it doesn't feel like he really gets what my priorities are and when I ask about things like this he always focuses on something else. I guess because it's more tangible or something I can do right now or something. 2. I don't know how I would do so and I live in a rural area where I can't even get to anything else without a car.. I don't know if I could manage it either with how severe my depression is at the moment. 3. yes, I mentioned in the first post it's the only clean room in the house. I'm thankful for at least that much and I barely leave it these days because of that. 4. I remember looking there before and not really feeling like it was a place I was safe in but it's been years. the forum I mentioned is a good resource for this though.

It's pretty sad, the important stuff like old pictures I don't have names or stories of who they were.

it hurts so badly thinking about how many sentimental things I've lost because everything just gets swallowed up by this hell house. mementos of deceased family members I will never get back. it hurts.

I'm sorry, OP. That's all I can really say to you. I'm so sorry.

thank you, and I think you'll be okay. I hope so as well. if you're out and don't want to be like that I think that's what matters most. I've found what helps most in keeping my space different aside from having no one else imposing on it is being conscious of my habits and behaviors and how they affect my space. even if you fall back sometimes, I think being cognizant of things is a really big step, and a good indicator you're different and will be okay, ultimately, even if it takes time, breaking the habits, training yourself to recognize when things are wrong, etc etc.

 

[eggsausagerice]

I'm sorry, OP. That's all I can really say to you. I'm so sorry.

i came here after you commented on my post. i think reading this post made me realize how i must sound to other people when i talk about how i've been dealing with my severe depression because of my mom. i felt extreme grief reading your post. if i was dealing with this since i was a young kid i'm sure that i would cry every day because i would just want to be normal. the way your mom told you that cps would take you away to a foster home if you were honest about your living situation or your home life is super upsetting. my mom did the same thing a few times when me and my siblings were little kids. she threatened to send us all away to foster homes because she hated us but we're still here because she's a coward. i kind of wish she did, because i might've had a future with different parents.

it hurts so badly thinking about how many sentimental things I've lost because everything just gets swallowed up by this hell house. mementos of deceased family members I will never get back. it hurts.

i'm so sorry.

i can't relate to you on your level. a part of me wishes that i could really understand what you're going through, but i don't. i used to watch the hoarder's show too, but only a little bit because it would make me depressed. i used to live in a super crappy apartment with my family in miami. it had a kitchen, living room and bedroom (same room), and a separate bedroom with bunk beds where me and my siblings would sleep. it had roaches. rats. flies. it always seemed to smell bad. family of five. we had 1 bathroom we had to share. sometimes i would take long baths in the evening to try and relax, but i think i was just trying to pretend i was living somewhere else. the apartment was so small. we live in this suburban house and we all have separate rooms now but my mom still hates me and my siblings and my dad is still a useless absent father. living in these suburbs is lonely because i have no transportation and there's mostly road. my brain blocked out what it was like living in our apartment, i think because i wanted to forget about it completely. i hated the roaches the most, because they would skitter everywhere. i would hate how cramped it felt and how i didn't know how to make my mom less upset about stuff because i didn't understand why she was so angry about everything. she was always shouting. i wanted to crawl under my bed all of the time. i would keep waking up inexplicably angry because i wanted to die.

i just can't imagine what living in your house is like. your description was so vivid that i just thought about what waking up every day in your house is like. i'm sorry if it sounds like i'm making it all about me. i can't imagine the smell and the disgust and how your mom is deliberately making the situation worse because she wants to keep on relying on you forever. codependent moms make no sense when they're supposed to know how to live on their own, but they ruin your life because they don't want you to ever leave them. did they think that giving birth to somebody means they get to have a little pet that talks to them and keeps them company forever? the dreams i had when i was younger about turning 18 make me really sad to think about now. i'm 20 and i achieved none of my dreams. i never got to move out and frolic around and be on my own. my whole life i've wanted to run away from my parents because they make me feel like burdens for existing. they keep telling me to move out when i don't have enough money and i don't have a job to sustain myself. i'm not grateful that they keep me alive. i want them to kill me.

 

[mangoastronaut]

You say that you're complicit now as an adult, and you also mention how any effort you make is always put to waste by your mother. I don't think the blame is solely on you now as an adult when your room is the cleanest. It'll probably be a big learning curve when you move out, and it seems to me this is something you want.

I'm sorry about the hell you're going through, especially how it affects all other aspects of your life alongside your disability. Stable housing is required to gain control over other aspects of your life, including employment and an education. Getting through it does not sound easy.

and theoretically I could apply for disability, but I don't know if I could qualify or not. I guess there's only one way to find out. but I don't have high hopes for it since technically on good days I can stand and walk around without a cane, even if not as much as an able-bodied person, and mobility/strictly required use of an assistive device seems to be a big part of qualification, so I don't know. and I know either way it'd take ages for it to ever go through..

(This is assuming you live in the US) Depending on the state you live in, it's going to be difficult. My friend tried applying for disability when they lived in California, and they got rejected and were told to apply again because they purposefully reject people the first time they apply to "weed out people faking it." (how awful!) When they moved to Oregon, they were put on disability nearly immediately.

From your previous responses, I'm assuming your local/state government aid is probably not going to be much help. I think it's still something worth trying, even if it's hard. Hopefully you can get a social worker who can help you, like my friend did.

I've seen people who do these deep cleans, but truthfully I'm scared of something like that, being made into a spectacle, content, entertainment in a form, even if identities were withheld.. I've never seen anyone who does it in the area I live in, though, and I've asked around a bit. either way though my mother is extremely resistant to anyone coming in to help like that, paid or otherwise, equating it to killing her. she'll do whatever it takes to stop it if someone tries. like her shame at the state things are in matters more than our health and lives. I've been shown as much thoroughly by the fact she's allowed me to grow up in conditions like this. in that forum I mentioned most of the people there are middle-aged women like her, some with children, and one thing that really hurt was one of them telling me that reading about my experience made her want to work harder on getting better for the sake of her children, because she could see how much it hurt for me, and how that could happen to her own children, and she wanted to save them from that. and it felt like.. why does this complete stranger care more about me than my own mother? why is seeing my incredible pain enough for them, but not her?

I agree that it can be humiliating to see your struggles be made into a spectacle. Because in the end, it's not that the stranger cares more about your well being than your mother but that they care about the money they can make from you.

And people say, "Well, why does that matter? [The person being exploited] is getting the help they need." And what those people don't consider is the shame, humiliation, and unforeseen negative consequences those videos can bring.

I guess you can ask these people (if you really want to) if they can help without recording and uploading their work to YouTube or TikTok, but fat chance they actually have the compassion to want to help without any benefit to them.

 

[dollangel]

a reply reminded me, when one of my grandmoms died, she left me a ring. I wore it constantly as a kid, so much I wore a callous into my finger. it was very special and important to me. I've since lost it to all this mess, years ago, there's no way I'll never find it again. I don't get to have nice things, don't get to have anything precious. if I want to keep anything safe, I have to lock it away out of necessity. otherwise it always gets broken or lost or ruined, just the same way. I just want to have a space all my own. I don't care how small it is or anything at all, just. a place where I only have to worry about myself. it makes me sound like a control freak which maybe I am but considering how little of it I've had in my life. the thought of a small space that's only mine where I only have to worry about my own mess and my own problems and my own upkeep sounds like bliss. I always find myself longing for it. I know it's selfish and unfeasible, but I dream of it. just peace and quiet and everything is secure.

 

[s00ngone]

a reply reminded me, when one of my grandmoms died, she left me a ring. I wore it constantly as a kid, so much I wore a callous into my finger. it was very special and important to me. I've since lost it to all this mess, years ago, there's no way I'll never find it again. I don't get to have nice things, don't get to have anything precious. if I want to keep anything safe, I have to lock it away out of necessity. otherwise it always gets broken or lost or ruined, just the same way. I just want to have a space all my own. I don't care how small it is or anything at all, just. a place where I only have to worry about myself. it makes me sound like a control freak which maybe I am but considering how little of it I've had in my life. the thought of a small space that's only mine where I only have to worry about my own mess and my own problems and my own upkeep sounds like bliss. I always find myself longing for it. I know it's selfish and unfeasible, but I dream of it. just peace and quiet and everything is secure.

How many of us haven't wished for a dimension free of responsibility? A pause button, an oasis outside of time? You're the furthest thing from a control freak or selfish for simply wanting a moment's rest. I live in a relative paradise compared to you and somehow find myself feeling the same way.

Your mind and body deserve a break. I can only imagine how shot your nervous system must be from your description of things. I'm sorry.

 

[dollangel]

How many of us haven't wished for a dimension free of responsibility? A pause button, an oasis outside of time? You're the furthest thing from a control freak or selfish for simply wanting a moment's rest. I live in a relative paradise compared to you and somehow find myself feeling the same way.

Your mind and body deserve a break. I can only imagine how shot your nervous system must be from your description of things. I'm sorry.

...now that you say that, it does occur to me that's probably why I was freaking out all the time until recently, haha. I was forced to have everything of mine I used frequently (like pc, etc) in the center of the house, and only about.. two months ago? did I finally break and move everything into my bedroom regardless of if it made her mad at me or not (it did). and I've felt so much calmer since then. before when I had to be in the middle of things, I was so tightly wound up, I was having meltdowns so frequently and it felt like any little thing would set me off, like a pot constantly on the verge of boiling over. I never wanted to wake up/get out of bed since I'd have to leave the safety of my room and spend it in the middle of all the wreck, with the smell and bugs. I had already been taking any food to my room to eat because it was the only way I could do so without getting swarmed, anyway.. it was the catalyst for moving, because I couldn't handle continuing on in that state after months of it. (maybe longer, but my perception of time is really off.) I'd made the connection between the two, but never really.. considered it would have been having some sort of effect on me like that, which feels really kind of dumb in hindsight, aha. I guess I just kind of have to be used to it or else I feel like I'll go crazy. thank you, though.

 

[avalokitesvara]

First off, I am truly sorry that you have had to live like this.

But I want to say... extreme situations call for extreme solutions. Of course you got nowhere trying to scrape 3 feet of clean space in such a monumental amount of disfunction and chaos. Of course noone can help you. I'm sorry to say it but there's so much learned helplessness in your writing. I'm sure your mother also feels the same. She wouldn't live like this if only someone would help her/would have helped her long ago.

Only we can have the power to change our lives and save ourselves. You have this power. And the power is not "try and tidy up a bit" or "try to get your mom to go to therapy". The power is to take YOUR life in YOUR hands and realise that if you don't want to live like this YOU have to make sure that you don't live like this by whatever means possible.

You are an adult. Your mother is an adult. You know someone threatening to kill themselves if you leave is just a basic abuser's manipulation tactics. Play chicken with her. So what if I do leave? What happens then? I bet she'll moan and cry and deride you, but she won't do anything. She's proven she's not a person who does things.

YOU however, are a person who does things. You are a person who can turn this burning hatred for this squalor and filth into a righteous burning fire, an unquenchable drive to live a beautiful, healthy life. YOU are capable of breaking the cycle. YOU aren't going to sit in a bed full of shit whining that noone will help you.

YOU are going to take risks, do something grand and wild, fail, fall down, get back up, try again, keep going, and push push push yourself as far and as high as you can out of this dumpster that is your life.

YOU are going to say FUCK YOU MOM. YOU CHOOSE TO LIVE THIS WAY BUT YOU'RE NOT GOING TO TRAP ME HERE.

You are going to find whatever tiny sliver of gap there is in the world and wiggle your way into it like the world's slinkiest little cat. You're gonna find a public library to study in to get your GED, or you're going to impinge on the good will of a neighbour. You're going to bark at anxiety that it only wants to trap you in place and tell it to stfu, and you're gonna learn to drive and get a job.

You're going to grind, grift, even steal from your mother ("borrow") if you have to. You're going to do anything and everything to get out of there. Extreme situations call for extreme solutions.

You're going to do it. Because you ARE a human being. You ARE a powerful, capable being. You DO deserve to live, and to live well, and healthily, and cleanly.

You WILL have that little space all of your own. And yes you will bear the scars of what your mother has done to you. But you will overcome them.

You won't sit in filth crying and lamenting because noone ever helped you. Is it fair that you will have to fight tooth and nail to achieve a life that most people take for granted? No, not at all. But YOU have the strength to rise like a phoenix from the hell of your upbringing, and become brighter, stronger, wiser, cooler, and more resilient than you could even imagine.

You just have to ACT. You have to pin your mind on that little clean space of your own, and move heaven and earth to get there.

And you're even going to throw your mother by the wayside to do so. She chose her life. Now live yours. Save. Yourself.

 

[dollangel]

First off, I am truly sorry that you have had to live like this.

But I want to say... extreme situations call for extreme solutions. Of course you got nowhere trying to scrape 3 feet of clean space in such a monumental amount of disfunction and chaos. Of course noone can help you. I'm sorry to say it but there's so much learned helplessness in your writing. I'm sure your mother also feels the same. She wouldn't live like this if only someone would help her/would have helped her long ago.

Only we can have the power to change our lives and save ourselves. You have this power. And the power is not "try and tidy up a bit" or "try to get your mom to go to therapy". The power is to take YOUR life in YOUR hands and realise that if you don't want to live like this YOU have to make sure that you don't live like this by whatever means possible.

You are an adult. Your mother is an adult. You know someone threatening to kill themselves if you leave is just a basic abuser's manipulation tactics. Play chicken with her. So what if I do leave? What happens then? I bet she'll moan and cry and deride you, but she won't do anything. She's proven she's not a person who does things.

YOU however, are a person who does things. You are a person who can turn this burning hatred for this squalor and filth into a righteous burning fire, an unquenchable drive to live a beautiful, healthy life. YOU are capable of breaking the cycle. YOU aren't going to sit in a bed full of shit whining that noone will help you.

YOU are going to take risks, do something grand and wild, fail, fall down, get back up, try again, keep going, and push push push yourself as far and as high as you can out of this dumpster that is your life.

YOU are going to say FUCK YOU MOM. YOU CHOOSE TO LIVE THIS WAY BUT YOU'RE NOT GOING TO TRAP ME HERE.

You are going to find whatever tiny sliver of gap there is in the world and wiggle your way into it like the world's slinkiest little cat. You're gonna find a public library to study in to get your GED, or you're going to impinge on the good will of a neighbour. You're going to bark at anxiety that it only wants to trap you in place and tell it to stfu, and you're gonna learn to drive and get a job.

You're going to grind, grift, even steal from your mother ("borrow") if you have to. You're going to do anything and everything to get out of there. Extreme situations call for extreme solutions.

You're going to do it. Because you ARE a human being. You ARE a powerful, capable being. You DO deserve to live, and to live well, and healthily, and cleanly.

You WILL have that little space all of your own. And yes you will bear the scars of what your mother has done to you. But you will overcome them.

You won't sit in filth crying and lamenting because noone ever helped you. Is it fair that you will have to fight tooth and nail to achieve a life that most people take for granted? No, not at all. But YOU have the strength to rise like a phoenix from the hell of your upbringing, and become brighter, stronger, wiser, cooler, and more resilient than you could even imagine.

You just have to ACT. You have to pin your mind on that little clean space of your own, and move heaven and earth to get there.

And you're even going to throw your mother by the wayside to do so. She chose her life. Now live yours. Save. Yourself.

yeah.. thank you. I try to remember all of this, and I know it logically. the depression just runs really deep and sometimes it's very hard to do so. but I know this is how things are, and what I need to keep in mind.. I'm still trying to fight for that even though it feels so impossible and difficult. ultimately, I do want to live.. just not like this.. so I know I have to do whatever I can for that

as an aside.. it's a little ironic, aha. people have helped her, people are practically desperate to help her even now, she just refuses it all unless forced. like she values her shame over our lives. I (and they) have known for a while now that if change is ever to happen, it has to happen without her consent, as awful as that sounds, but it's for her sake too, because she can't live like this either.. I just need to prepare myself for the inevitable fallout that will happen because while necessary I know it'll be uprooting my entire life essentially. I've been trying to build up security (financial, mental, space, etc) for when that happens so I can handle it when it does and things don't just fall apart/I give in (a common tactic is just wearing me down/inciting panic (extreme deprecation, suicide threats, etc) so I'll give up just to make it stop) etc

 

[avalokitesvara]

Dude. STOP THINKING ABOUT YOUR MOM. It is TOO LATE for her. It's tragic and horrific, but you have to stop thinking along these lines. You have to concentrate on yourself and your own life, getting yourself out of there. Thinking about how to help your mom is keeping you stuck. Just plan your escape and do what it takes to make it happen. You can work on your feelings about your mother AFTER you have built your own life.