It’s the time of year in my neighbourhood when
nature-strips in every suburb begin to look like the local rubbish depot, or ‘tip’,
as we know them. Some people think it looks disgusting, to see these piles of personal
belongings, garden tools, broken play equipment and fish tanks, lying around in
the public eye.
There are strict rules, too, according to the
council. Piles can only be a maximum of two metres in length and one metre in
height right across the pile (big red arrows clearly demarcate these dimensions
on the brochure that was distributed to residents a few weeks ago). But don’t let those rules fool you, the
community have devised their own and no good council could keep up with the not
so secret scavenging tours that are happening night and day. I have to admit I
have joined forces with my partner and taken a few choice pickings, much to the
disgust of my boss who told me I was a complete Bogan for doing so!
It has made me ponder why I get such joy out of
this time of year. After all, I have a home to live in, a full time job and
enough furniture to sit and sleep on. Admittedly, most of my stuff is second
hand, but it does the job just fine. I don’t really need to pick up items from
the nature-strip that my neighbours are throwing away. But something in me sees
the opportunity and has to seize it. And my mind is full of ideas of what it
all could be used for!
So perhaps it comes from being a creative
person, I wonder. Thomas Edison once admitted, ‘To invent, you need a good imagination
and a pile of junk’. (https://www.anxiety.org/hoarding-creativity-neuroticism)
As a child, I was just as happy in the corner of my grandmother’s lounge room
making things out of discarded match-boxes and meat-trays and a roll of masking
tape as I was riding my bike on our bush property, creating treasure maps and
burying treasure down near the dam. I didn’t need expensive toys to have fun
and often got a lot more joy out of making something myself, like the doll
house I made out of cardboard boxes and the detective kit I carried full of
little notes and ‘clue lists’ I had created.
Or perhaps, I wonder, my love of collecting things comes from my
Grandma and Grandpa, who lived through the depression years. Grandma was
thrifty, she didn’t throw things out and she didn’t live with excess. Their
home was simple and I only realised how small it was when I returned to it as
an adult years later – as a child it felt huge.
Whatever it is, I think I’m always going to be living in a house
that’s a little bit eclectic – full of items I’ve found which make me feel
happy, whether that’s a piece of artwork I found at the op-shop that has moved
me, a little blue-green glass vase that was for sale on Facebook or my piano, a
beautiful and useful creation on which I can express myself through my music.
And I’ll enjoy these things just as I enjoy other parts of my life, like my
children, my partner, my pets and my writing … simply as something to enhance
this life I’ve been given. I guess that’s the key, too. The realisation that
material things can enhance your life, but once their ability to enhance it is
gone, they can be moved on to someone else. Otherwise your surroundings become
static, and a hoarding problem results.
According to a recent study, hoarding is twice as common as OCD, and four times as
common as bipolar or schizophrenic disorders, and it is said that hoarding impulses come more from emotion than creativity, with those afflicted more likely to be experiencing feelings
of depression and anxiety than other people.
As a social worker, I often come
across people who hoard. It can be difficult for them to recognise how the
hoarding is affecting their life, and the life of their children, negatively. I
find the disorder fascinating and I do wonder if sometimes I’m only a
car-load of neighbourhood hard rubbish away to suffering it myself.
In my novel, 'A Justified Desire', Tess’s mother is a hoarder and creatong this character allowed me to explore
my feelings about hoarding and to gain a stronger understanding of the
psychology which lies beneath the piles. If you’d like to read A Justified Desire it is just a click
away to download it onto your Kindle or reading device (the Kindle app is free
for phones and I-pads!) and here is the link: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B017U69MP0 I'd also love to hear your thoughts on collecting junk so please comment below!
Sue Oaks
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