My mom is 84 years old. She is outgoing, fiercely independent, and unafraid to walk everywhere. She walks a mile to her senior center several times a week, often stopping at stores along the way. People enjoy her silly, vibrant personality. From the outside, she appears completely capable.
But behind closed doors, she has struggled with a hoarding disorder for over 50 years, and it has shaped much of our relationship.
She’s been evicted twice in my lifetime due to her hoarding. It’s caused significant strain between us. I live two hours away with my family, which makes things more complicated. In 2018, she was forbidden to live in her condo after the city fire chief declared it uninhabitable. She could only enter to clean, but never to stay, so she couch-surfed with friends and would “visit her stuff” regularly.
In 2020, just as she received another pre-eviction notice, she was hospitalized with COVID for four months and spent another four in a boarding home. Her HOA was preparing to sue her for property damage and rodent infestation, but the courts shut down temporarily, delaying the case and giving her an unexpected grace period. Her home was on the brink of being lost.
I stepped in. She signed a Power of Attorney, and I took over her affairs. While she was hospitalized, I entered her home. It was beyond anything I imagined. Leaking pipes, no hot water, walls crumbling, rodent nests under cabinets, chewed wires, mold, saturated carpets from rat urine, and layers of cobwebs and droppings. Nothing was salvageable.
I worked day and night with contractors to gut and rebuild the home. I saved what I could, adding it to her storage units (yes, there’s more). I got the city to re-inspect and drop charges. The HOA withdrew its lawsuit. I even made the home suitable for a roommate or caregiver if needed.
I rebuilt her living space from scratch—choosing her favorite colors, making it functional and beautiful. Her bedroom had everything she had always said she wanted: a pink satin bedspread, satin pillows, sheer pink curtains, and even my childhood princess bedroom set that she had always admired but never had growing up. She was happier, especially after I reassured her that her belongings were safe in storage. She even said the storage was "next to go."
She refused ongoing help but insisted she liked the clean space and would keep it that way. I honored her independence. But over time, during visits, she began meeting me at the door and wouldn’t let me in. I suspected the hoarding had resumed, but I didn’t know what else to do.
Fast forward to December 2024: she fell in the shower and dislocated her shoulder but didn’t tell me for a month. In February, she broke three ribs, only revealing it when she asked for help getting to the doctor due to difficulty breathing. Doctors advised her to stop walking in her broken shoes and use a cane. In March, she fell again and broke her hip. She spent a week in the hospital and was transferred to rehab for 2 months.
While she was recovering, I went to her home to gather some things—and found it had returned to its hoarded state. I was heartbroken but not surprised. I hired another crew to clean and restore basic functionality.
Now that she’s home again, she refuses any in-home support. She’s hoarding again. The bugs have returned. She gets angry when I try to throw away expired food some dating from 2022 to 2024, and the smell from the fridge and cupboards is overwhelming. She’s begun missing bill payments but won’t allow me to take over, so I’ve been secretly paying them behind the scenes to prevent her from losing her home. She refuses to live in a care facility. She refuses anyone inside her home.
I don’t know what to do anymore. She needs help. Real help, but I’m out of tools, energy, and options. I respect her independence, but it’s getting harder to watch her live like this, knowing what’s coming if things continue.
I am now older and tired myself. Where do I go from here?
You have done above and beyond what most people would do and now it's time for APS to be called and for your mom to be under their radar and if need be they will take over her care, which would be a blessing.
So call APS this morning and report your mom living in filthy conditions and let the chips fall where they may.
I wish you the best, but there is little you can do here, as you have learned this hard way.
I would encourage you to purchase (cheap used or through your local library) the memoir by Liz Scheier about her decades long attempts to intervene for and to help her mentally challenged mother, all to no avail. The title is Never Simple.
One last attempt can be made with APS for intervention by the state; I would never attempt to function as POA or as Guardian for an uncooperative senior; it's impossible on the face of it.
I wish you the best.
You went above and beyond for your mom. It is very clear how much you care about her.
There is little to be done other than what you have already tried, and much of what has been tried has done little to remedy the situation. Sadly, not everything can be fixed. I would turn mother over to APS and the guardianship, if APS can arrange it, of the state. Otherwise, this will quite simply continue until she is hospitalized and assessed as being incompetent to make her own choices about things.
I would suggest a book. It is Liz Scheier's memoir, Never Simple, about her mother's mental illness. Ms. S tried to intervene for her mother, along with the social services of the city and state of New York for decades, all to no avail. Again, not everything can be fixed. However, you have decisions to make for how long you wish to sacrifice your own life on the altar of your mother, which is a burning funeral pyre, as in "slow burn". I am so sorry. The truth can be brutal, and in this sad instance it is.
She could use meds for her anxiety (but this won't cure her desire to hoard). So maybe broach this topic with her primary doctor, or consult with a therapist who specializes in hoarding. You need to find and defend your own boundaries as well: I get the sense that every time you clean up her mess, you expect her to be someone different. She's not and never will be unless she agrees to therapy... but it's too late now. Once she starts falling, she will continue to fall until she lands in LTC.
Medicaid plus her SSI can cover the cost of LTC in a facility that accepts Medicaid.
I agree with others who correctly point out that you should not be putting money into this disaster... doing this only robs from your own future care.
To me, it sounds like she is clearly incapable of living on her own anymore and it sounds like she is a danger to herself.
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