It was crowded with stale cookies, coffee cups and silk flowers in a vase. Nothing glaringly screamed “dangerous hoarding conditions.”
At least, not at first glance.
Let’s call my family member, “Hannah,” for privacy’s sake. Hannah withdrew from human contact after her husband’s death. Hence, the welfare check. She neglected her health and personal care needs. In fact, she stopped taking her blood pressure medication two weeks before her devastating health crisis. She was found lying on the floor for two days, unable to reach the phone.
As paramedics scrambled to maneuver the house’s hoard and attend to her, no one paid much attention to the kitchen table. Yet, that piece of furniture held much backstory about Hannah’s decision- making process and state of mind. Both were dangerously unhealthy.
As we cleared the table, the red tablecloth felt “padded.”
Removing it, we came to discover “layers” of tablecloths, covering the surface.
“From the end of the earth I will cry to You, When my heart is overwhelmed; Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.
Psalm 61:2
Tablecloth Layer #1: Bills:
We lifted the first red tablecloth and discovered its secrets.
Strewn throughout were various bills, both current and not so current. Some weren’t even opened. They had Hannah’s scrawled handwriting, on the envelopes, informing her that this bill arrived in 2003; this bill arrived in 2009. There were overdue bills, second notices, all requiring a complicated, tedious unravelling process. It took weeks to accomplish.
And it showed my family that Hannah was letting things go. Was is merely absent-minded? Or was it deliberate? After all, she didn’t pay- or even open- these bills. She simply covered everything up with a tablecloth. That was her solution?
Unfortunately, for the hoarder, that often appears to be a viable remedy to unpleasant realities. And bills, if nothing else, are unpleasant. This “symptom” signifies, oftentimes, how the hoarder can no longer be viewed as financially responsible. Guardians and financial powers of attorneys, therefore, need to step in now.
Hoarders may not utilize the tablecloth technique when it comes to bills. Some hoarders simply lose track of the mounds of accumulating paper. But there is a common disconnect:
“I don’t want to deal with this, so I won’t.”
Tablecloth Layer #2: Depression Denial
“From the end of the earth I will cry to You, When my heart is overwhelmed; Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.
Psalm 61:2
We pulled off another layer, this one pink. Packed sheets of notebook paper covered the table. The content of these pages contained Hannah’s written prayers asking for help with losing weight and meeting her “goals.” Sprinkled amongst her wish list were repeated mentions, “I’m depressed.”
And I immediately flashed to remembrances of her defiantly declaring, “I don’t need therapy. That’s for other people.”
This was a woman who endured abuse, trauma and severe poverty. But, not surprisingly, because of shame, she could not admit she needed help from anyone else besides “The Lord.”
She denied she was sad.
She denied she was depressed.
She denied there was a problem.
And, I guess, looking at her notebook entries, which abruptly stopped a year before her health crisis, she eventually denied there was a problem to even “The Good Lord.” She decided, again, to cover the table.
Hannah was suffering. Yet she was adamant about refusing help. She self-medicated instead with food and shopping, which, of course, exacerbated the hoarding.
What could have happened if she just received some professional counseling? What could have happened if she admitted she was miserable?
Tablecloth Layer #3: Dangerous Coping
“From the end of the earth I will cry to You, When my heart is overwhelmed; Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.
Psalm 61:2
The table still felt padded. We pulled off another layer (this one was floral).
The surface here was covered with various family members’ Social Security Numbers written on index cards and notes to herself about how to operate appliances and where she kept various “important things” that she was, I guess, afraid she’d lose track of.
Yet, with the event of her health crisis, the evidence was overwhelming. She had lost track of everything. A progression of mental fogginess was, perhaps explained by her massive stroke (or strokes)?
Hannah was disorganized and desperate, never wanting to admit to herself that her strategies to “get by” further jeopardized her life and safety. And her methods of staying on top of important pieces of information was, inevitably, only covered with another layer of tablecloth.
Hoarders often make notes to themselves, reminding them of important matters: people’s phone numbers, where the car keys are, how to operate the car, how to turn on a light or lock the front door. They believe these instructions will keep them safe. But these notes are often lost and buried somewhere. Their whereabouts, many times, is long forgotten.
Tablecloth Layer #4: The Sacred and the Meaningful
“From the end of the earth I will cry to You, When my heart is overwhelmed; Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.
Psalm 61:2
The padding on the table still existed. There was one more layer.
We removed the red and blue floral tablecloth to find scattered mementos: family photos and even the postcards my husband and I sent Hannah when we moved Westward…in 1999. It was shocking to see how these mementos were not in picture frames or even scrapbooks, for she insisted on keeping them. Hannah wouldn’t throw anything away.
Did these items mean anything to her? And, if they meant something, why did she bury them?
Perhaps, it was an all too common hoarding behavior: people bury their treasures, again, often forgetting where they buried them. The hoarder wants to keep not only his/her treasures safe, but himself/herself safe as well.
Hannah wanted to be safe. And she also wanted a clean house. Maybe she felt her tablecloth method achieved both. She could keep everything, yet still have things look pretty. Because, let’s not forget, on top of that first layer was a vase with silk flowers. She was trying for beauty.
Aesthetically pleasing, but at what price? Her health? Her safety? Her social life? Hannah didn’t let anyone “in.” She chose to shut out those people, representing those photographs and mementos. The biggest reasons? Probably shame and self-protection, which were both in overdrive. But what emotional damage did this do to not only her, but to others, as well? No man is an island.
Safekeeping. It appears to be a hallmark of a hoarder. Stay safe. Build a barrier. Build a cocoon. And somehow, over time, that morphs into a death trap. People have been found dead under the layers of cocooning, known as their homes. It’s private and quiet.
Usually, by the time the hoarding is discovered, it is at crisis level. It requires professional help of the “many hands” variety. It requires counseling. And that requires willingness from the hoarder. And if he/she is anything like Hannah, that will be a challenge, as they assert, “I don’t need help/therapy. I’m fine on my own.”
In fact, concerning the hoarding, the only way to effectively stop the madness was to remove her from that multi-room home and place her into a more contained care facility. Hannah is now limited to her bedroom. Facility staff frequently check on her, monitoring her hoarding tendencies so they do not flourish in this environment.
And sometimes, that is the best one can do. Hoarding is a compulsion, often born from trauma. You cannot reason with it. And it’s not as simple as “just get rid of the junk.” More will appear quickly in its absence.
Hoarding, from start to finish, is a layered issue. And we often must pick things apart, layer by layer, dealing with it.
“From the end of the earth I will cry to You, When my heart is overwhelmed; Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.
Psalm 61:2
Overwhelmed Heart.
It screams layers of overwhelm, doesn’t it?
You and I may not be hoarders.
But there is clutter in our souls, somewhere, somehow.
Our hearts are overwhelmed.
The Most High IS The Rock that is higher than us.
He and His Son, Yahshua, Our Savior, according to scripture, “are One” (John 10:30).
We are all a bit cluttered. Right here. Right now.
We need help getting cleaned up.
Let’s pray.
Abba Father-
We come to You, in The Name of Your Son, Our Savior, Yahshua.
You see our clutter. Our mess. Our disorder.
You know how we need Your cleansing and order in our lives.
Forgive us
Help us.
Do for us what we cannot do for ourselves.
Heal us.
Deal with our clutter, our hoarded sin and pain.
Make us new, clean, and restored.
We accept Your Son as our Savior, Your Redemption for our lives and souls.
We receive it all, with humility and gratitude.
Thank You.
In Yahshua’s Name, we pray.
Amen.
Copyright © 2025 by Sheryle Cruse
