All sorts of receipts, bills, flyers, catalogs, letters, advertisements, lists, and scraps of paper float into our lives. It may seem like no big deal when we choose to hang on to a piece. Maybe it is significant or sentimental, and the desire to hang on to it makes sense. Occasionally it is deemed important—something that may be needed later—and we save it. If it is something we are afraid or ashamed of, we may not know how to dispose of it in a way that feels safe, so we panic and hide it out of sight.

These pieces of paper are like thoughts. If we choose to hide the troubling ones away because they are scary or uncomfortable, we establish a habit of avoiding or ignoring these distressing thoughts, we need to find more places to stash them out of sight. If the thought feels exciting or familiar, we may tuck it away for ourselves even though we know it is not helpful and we do not have the room.

The more thoughts we leave accepted but unprocessed, the more they accumulate. This can result in a hoarding. Like a physical hoard, it becomes impossible to live or move freely. But, because it was a slow, steady process, we adapted and may not have realized when we crossed a line. Maybe we see the situation, and it feels so shameful and overwhelming that we do not know where to start fixing it or who we can ask to help. We may retreat into the mess because we come to believe we deserve it or because we see value in the chaos that others do not. Maintaining our hoard becomes more and more costly—financially, mentally, emotionally, and physically. All of our time is spent protecting the hoard, adding to the hoard, and navigating the hoard.

Friends and loved ones may have become vocally frustrated with us, begging or fighting us to give up the hoard. Others may quietly exit our life because they cannot deal with the mess. We may ask others to keep secrets about the extent of the hoard or seek to take over spaces in their lives to accommodate “the hoard”. People who may have wanted to be supportive are never allowed in. People who were part of our network have been pushed out. Eventually, we find ourselves alone with our hoard. It may seem like all we have left. It may provide a sense of security or safety. But in reality, we are not safe. Just as a physical hoard could catch fire, or a pile could slip and crush us, our mental hoard can become overwhelming. Our mental spaces may be infested or toxic. We cannot maintain our spaces, and, to be honest, it eventually comes to feel unworthy of the effort.

What started out as a personal decision to avoid suffering or facilitate protection becomes a situation that causes suffering to our entire community and in all aspects of our lives.

The good news is that hoards are not inevitable. We have choices. If we work to remain curious about, rather than critical of, our thoughts, we can allow them to freely come and go. We can observe them and respond to them. We do not have to be afraid of our thoughts. We can respect them, honor them, and release them. And if we need help with any part of this process at any point, we simply have to allow ourselves to seek it out and accept it from appropriate sources.

Distressing thoughts are going to occur. They happen to everyone, to some degree. The goal is to address them promptly and effectively, from a place of non-judgment. There is no long-term benefit to letting shame or fear keep us from dealing with them. While we may experience a short-term decrease in our anxiety, it is not the same thing as experiencing the true peace and happiness we deserve.

author avatar
Jen Peterson