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Outside hoarding is dangerous—and in most cases unlawful. Not only does it attract snakes, rats, mosquitoes (to standing water), and noxious weeds, it also attracts the attention of local authorities. Yard hoarders are often the first to be cited and fined since junked cars and appliances that contain gas, Freon, or other high-risk materials are significant health hazards. A hoarder with lots of land can seemingly keep collecting forever because there are no ceilings or walls outside.

2

WHY PEOPLE HOARD

At just over six feet tall, with long blond hair, Candace, fifty-nine, was an imposing figure. She had been a well-paid advertising executive who had also taught classes on marketing at the university near her upscale neighborhood. She confided that money wasn’t an issue for her as she’d invested well and was able to retire from both her advertising job and teaching.

But years before Clutter Cleaner came into her life, Candace had slipped into horrible living conditions. In her house, my crew and I were faced with heaps of papers, clothes, books, and trash in every room, all but burying what I came to discover was a lot of fine antique furniture. One bedroom was so completely filled with junk that the door would barely open. Extension cords crisscrossed the rooms because the electrical outlets had been blocked ages ago. And the whole house reeked of dog feces and urine.

Candace hadn’t been a lifelong hoarder, but a difficult divorce followed immediately by her mother’s death sent her into a tailspin. She started drinking heavily—and the years of self-abuse were starting to show on her face—and in the way she lived.

Her mother had left everything to Candace, who took her mother’s possessions into her own home but hadn’t bothered to sort, give away, or discard anything.

And the more she drank, the less she cared about keeping a clean house. She started to fall behind on simple daily tasks like sorting through mail, taking the dogs out, or getting rid of old clothes. As a person who had been used to being on top of everything, she felt her frustration turn into depression and exacerbate what was already becoming an untenable living situation.

There were clear signs that Candace had obsessive-compulsive tendencies. Under the piles of things in her house were shelves and storage bins that had been put into place at one time to control clutter. Her framed pictures and other knickknacks were neatly labeled with notes on the back or underneath explaining what they were and who they came from. Her dresser drawers were marked “darks” and “whites” for her clothes.

Even her squalor was OCD. Although the dogs were going to the bathroom in the house, Candace had limited them to two rooms. Her piles were organized into categories—books, clothes, papers. The house was a mess, and whatever earlier attempts she had made to stay in control had been all but abandoned.

Candace admitted that once she fell behind on her organization, she really fell behind. She couldn’t accept the middle ground of mild, occasional clutter that most people live in. For Candace, everything was black or white, just like the labels for her clothing. A house that had once been so precisely organized and labeled was now an out-and-out disaster area. She had simply given up the struggle.

Like almost every hoarder with whom I’ve worked, Candace also showed signs of what I now know to be clinical depression: She didn’t smile or make eye contact; her voice was flat, without any affect. She admitted that she had trouble getting out of bed in the morning and struggled to make simple decisions.

Candace was clearly an intelligent woman. At one time she had enjoyed spending time with her family and friends, but her social life had tapered off years ago. She seemed to have made a choice: A house full of clutter with its piles of clothes, books, and papers was more important than living what would be by most people’s standards a normal life that included family and friends,