After thinking about this for a while, I think this may be the only way to bring some sense of sanity back into my head. If even for a short time. Just hear me out and let me remain anonymous, please.
Some backstory: I’ve been a hoarder for around 10 years. Agoraphobic for about 8 of those. Yes, I’ve tried and am currently in therapy. Yes, I’m on several anxiety and depression medications. I’ve accepted that this might be as good as my conditions gets and don’t need any advice. Yes, I have watched Hoarders on A&E before. No, I don’t have any close friends or relatives who help me with my condition.
While I’ve been able to make mild progress in the past, I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t want help that badly anymore. I have my piles set up currently so that I have a clear path to (most) of the exits and, while that may not be good enough for the fire department, it’s good enough for me. I don’t get much in the way of physical contact, too, so looking up to see my collections around me gives me a sense of being held and embraced. That may not be the most accurate description per se, but it’s the best and closest I can come up with. Something about crawling into the small spaces I’ve carved out for myself makes me feel cozy. Like I’m wrapped in a nice blanket. It helps that I’m not a trash hoarder or anything like that, either, and I pride myself on keeping my hoard as clean and orderly as possible.
Now that’s out of the way, I don’t entirely know how to say this without confirming what you all probably already think: That I’m completely crazy. My hoard seems to “attract” new items from time to time. As in, things that I didn’t order and none of my penpals sent me. I’ve checked my Amazon order list, I’ve checked with friends, and I’ve googled WebMD for why I might be losing time or something. I have no idea where this new shit comes from.
Most of it is completely harmless or even kind of cute. About 1 year and a month ago, for example, the bunnies started. I’d make my way through the path to my living room and at least 1 new stuffed animal rabbit would appear. Before I knew it, there had to be over 50 bunnies tucked into different parts of the living room pile. I laughed my ass off the day the new stuffed animal that showed up was a giant kangaroo. Bunny adjacent, I guess. Just like that, one day, the bunnies all disappeared. I haven’t seen one since.
I’d gotten used to this kind of thing by then as it started maybe 4 years into me being agoraphobic. I’d say the most unsettled I ever got before then was the pictures. There was a point that photos of other families started appearing in my memory boxes. I knew this because I keep those boxes set aside with just enough room for me to rummage through them and inspect certain childhood items for damage. It’s a more irritating occasional compulsion related to my OCD. One day photos of entire families, none of whom I’d ever met before in my life, started showing up. I started cataloging them and researching different clothing styles to see where/when they may be from. I got everything from 1960s to current day. I even started seeing if I could identify them online using forums, but no luck. While creepy, I think I’d finally come to terms with these showing up before they suddenly stopped one day.
This brings me to my current dilemma.
It started with the goldfish. Fuck that dead goldfish. Then after that it was the urn.
Now I have two fucking severed arms, very much covered in blood and seemingly removed poorly, in my until now hoard free and very clean bathtub. And this started maybe one week ago today. I have no idea how much longer this shit is going to go on.
If I’m going to have to live with this for a few more months, please God could the limbs at least be post-morgue processing please? Whatever you call that? At least arrive to me stitched up or something?
I have exactly zero idea what I’m going to do now, but whatever it is just wish me luck and no full on dead bodies. Thanks.