Posted by: k | June 22, 2009

Confessions of a Pack-Rat

I’m a hoarder.

Sounds harsh, doesn’t it? But moving out, and having to pack my life away has made me realise I can’t remain in denial any longer.

I. Am. A. Hoarder.

Hold on, you may say. I have lived in the same house, in the same bedroom, even, for over 15 years. Anyone who stays in the same place for that long is bound to have a few extra things laying around, right? Of course. But probably not to this extent.

My first hoarding memory takes place when I was around 9. We had a “Countries” day at school, see. We each had to pick a country, and dress in its attire. Think of the Simpsons episode where Lisa ends up being the giant foamy lump of Florida – but countries. I picked Wales, of course.

The Welsh national dress looks a little something like this:

Welsh dress

I tied for first place with a boy who threw on a potato sack and claimed he hailed from Mexico.

Anyway, I remember being upset because to make the shawl, Mum cut up one of Dad’s red singlets – one that he wore to the beach with me when I was 4. We still have the photo. I also remember looking at the photo and being sad while Mum cut up that very singlet.

That story, when I remembered it, set alarm bells ringing.

In all honesty, I have found so much crap while I’ve been packing. And yet, although I know it’s crap, I’m finding it hard to throw it away. I took the plunge and threw away a pile of old Cosmopolitan magazines that were hiding under my candle making things, and felt so proud of myself – until I realised I have several other Cosmo piles laying around.

Can I blame the family? Dad’s a hoarder.  He keeps every bit of paper he ever gets. When Mum and I cleaned out my craft cupboard, which currently resides in the corner of the living room, a whole drawer of it was empty envelopes, random flyers, and other junk, all his. Then there’s my grandfather, who had a good 80+ cameras, and thousands of photographs stashed all over his house.

I have to reform. I will no longer be allowed to hoard, according to the organised, semi-OCD man with whom I am moving out with. Apparently, when we’re in our new place, unpacking the boxes, I am supposed to go through them all and throw away anything I don’t need. Ha!

A hoarder ‘needs’ everything – this and that for a rainy day. There is a place for everything, and not everything goes in its place.

Wish me luck as I keep packing in preparation for this weekend’s move – and wish me more luck as the boxes get opened at the other end!



  1. check out

    i’m a huge fan of Aby’s – been doing online organising classes since June last year
    Alynda will tell you … it made a HUGE difference – we threw out so much stuff when she was home
    I did a paper organising class too !!!

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