Hoarding as an Attachment Disorder

When we think of hoarding, the television show Hoarders usually comes to mind. Inside the hoarder’s home are huge piles of random junk which have taken over all living spaces. And if you’ve seen even one episode of this show, you know what happens when the intervention team arrives. The moment they remove one useless object, the hoarder freaks out. That’s because like all attachment disorders, hoarding is the result of a scarcity fear. In this case, it’s the acquisition of objects. Hoarders define the Self through ownership. It’s the only venue that makes them feel valued, and they will sacrifice their quality of life to keep it. This is why we see them having a meltdown when the intervention team shows up. Each object that’s removed from their home is chipping away at their identity.

There are other forms of hoarding than what you may have seen on Hoarders. For one thing, there’s miserliness. That infamous fictional character, Ebenezer Scrooge was a hoarder of money. Then there’s the collector who thinks that someday their collection will be complete. But without a stop signal in place that says “I have enough” they will keep engaging in impulse buys.

Then there is the subtype, or “hoarding 2” in Trauma Glossary 2 under Adult Attachment Disorders. This is an attachment to a single object that gives one security in a world that’s confusing and intimidating. This object often accompanies the person as they interact with the world, for without it, they feel untethered. Linus from Charlie Brown is a great example, as he always had his security blanket. So is Gollum from Lord of the Rings. His attachment to his ring was so strong, he nicknamed it “My Precious!”

A Note on Attachment Disorders

In last week’s article, we used seven visual aids to compare attachment styles and how they impact our perception of our outer world. Then we showed how it begins with our childhood programming. If our needs were met, we have a solid foundation and a more positive outlook. But if our needs were not met and we could not bond with our caretaker, we have “missing information” in our programming. So, we tend to get more attached to meeting one need and whatever works for meeting that need. It’s more than a failure to know what’s missing. It’s a failure to know how to respond to having other needs met.

All attachment disorders have addictive and compulsive behaviors. However, not all addictions and compulsions automatically point to an attachment disorder. So, substance abuse, overeating, gambling, porn, compulsive buying, and even workaholism are addictive behaviors. These are all coping mechanisms that temporarily fill in the “void.” Attachment disorders take them to the next level. The addictive behavior is used as a means of establishing their identity and security. For without it, there is no Self and there is no security.

Hoarding = Addiction to Acquiring + Unwilling to Let Go

The compulsive spender thinks, “I have this mysterious pain inside me but I don’t want to look at it and I don’t want to sit with it. So, I’m going to manufacture some joy into my life.” And off they go on a buying spree. But once the “high” of the shiny and new wears off, they are back to same pain as before until they go on a new buying spree. As long as they are recycling the old (giving them to charity or throwing them out) to make room for the new, then it remains an addictive behavior. It becomes an attachment disorder the moment the person with this addiction cannot part with the old, no matter how forgotten or useless it has become. And the result is what we typically see on Hoarders.

Miserliness is the other extreme. In this case, the addiction to acquiring is money. While we should all strive for financial security, the miser never feels like they have enough. That’s why they will live as far below their means as possible. Spending money, even on essentials chips away at their only source of security.

Life Imitates Art: Ebenezer Scrooge

Two Christmases ago, I wrote an article on the very man who comes to mind when we hear the term, miser. I analyzed his story, which included his attachment disorder. If you’re familiar with A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens, you know that Scrooge’s miserliness was evident in the story’s opening. And we also learn from Scrooge’s past that his miserliness was so extreme that he lost the only woman he had ever loved. Let’s look at the highlights from that article now. There are some great takeaways.

It’s remarkable how, for a wealthy man like Scrooge, he is living like a pauper inside his own house. So enslaved he is to money, he has robbed himself of any quality of life. 

In the case of Ebenezer Scrooge, his identity is: “I’m rich” but at the price of forsaking all other aspects of life.

His mind developed out of being deprived of parental love. This was his original scarcity. Not knowing how love and human connection can build emotional security, he latched onto financial security.

At the closing of Scrooge’s past, we see from the way he’s dressed that he has become financially successful. However, he’s gotten so obsessed with money, it is not registering with him that he has enough! Money itself has become his scarcity fear, overwriting his childhood scarcity of love. As Scrooge’s father emotionally neglected him, so Scrooge emotionally neglects Belle, the only woman he ever loved. Belle breaks off their engagement and in so doing, Scrooge’s childhood pain has been fully manifested into his adult life.

Fight-Freeze and Attachment Disorder: A Heal-Along with Ebenezer Scrooge

A Real Life Example of Hoarding

This concerns an old co-worker of mine who was a hoarder. To protect his privacy, we will call him Albert.

Albert was eager to please. He hungered for friendship, love, and he wanted to be valued. He was the sort who would stay at work long past quitting time. This was not because he was trying to move up in the company, because Albert had no ambitions. Albert only wanted to be seen as a valued employee. This unfulfilled hunger for being valued spilled over to his coworkers and anyone he met. But what Albert wanted most was the very thing that eluded him. You see, Albert was a pathological liar. He told tall tales about himself. He was a regular Baron Munchausen.

Albert would occasionally bring in old news clippings, some which happened to include his last name in the article. Flimsy “proof” of the stories he told us. Another time, he brought a photo album to show us. It was headshots of multiple women, fully clothed, so at least it was classy. According to Albert, he had dated most of them, though he wasn’t in any of the pictures.

Albert’s love language was gift giving. He would bring random gifts to anyone who patiently listened to his tall tales or put up with his clingy behavior. Some were newly bought gifts but most of them were strange, like an obscure magazine that had been published over a decade ago.

Then one day, Albert had to find a new place to live because his landlord evicted him for hoarding. That’s how we learned he was a hoarder and then everything about him suddenly made sense.

Albert’s Quixotic Quest for Value

Albert never learned to accept himself for who he was. So, he built his life around lies. He wanted to value himself vicariously through the feedback of others. But even this wasn’t enough to satisfy his weak identity. Albert had been collecting objects for who knows how long to soothe his identity and convince himself of a life he never lived. But this still wasn’t enough. He was also collecting objects on the whim of it might make a useful gift to someone someday. If you recall the images I used in last week’s article that represented our differing perspectives of the outer world, then there is no doubt in my mind what Albert’s “inner landscape” looked like.

We have no way of knowing what sort of childhood programming created this infinite loop in Albert’s life because his narratives have more fiction in them than Ebenezer Scrooge’s story.

Hoarding is “I am not enough” projected onto objects

Collecting as a hobby is pretty common. It’s also harmless in most cases. It only becomes a problem when the collection takes over one’s room for living and the collector still believes that “someday my collection will be complete.” What they are really saying is “I feel incomplete” but they have bonded with their objects in such a way that they have become an outer representation of what’s missing on the inside. This is why, no matter how much the hoarder acquires, their perception is “I don’t have enough.” That’s because what they really mean is “I feel that I am not enough.”

Under Siege: The Hoarder’s Outer World Perspective

Times were tough in the middle ages. Stocking up on food and supplies was vital for surviving winter, famine, and even plagues. Then there was the other threat., and it’s the very reason we’ve seen the castle ruins from this time period with the moat and drawbridge. When an invading army approached, the drawbridge would raise to prevent the enemy’s entrance. Surviving the siege hinged on however long their supplies lasted.

“I might need this someday.”

So the hoarder stockpiles possessions. But their under siege fear is not of an invading army. It’s their perception of an unwelcoming world. Therefore, they stockpile on objects that comfort and soothe. In the recesses of the hoarder’s mind is a What if scenario that plays in a constant loop. Whatever the scenario, it’s future focused and it involves home being the only safe place left in the world. And if that day ever comes, they must be surrounded by objects that will soothe them in such distressing times. That’s why the hoarder lives by the daily mantra, “I might need this someday.” It’s the only reason they need to justify acquiring more possessions and the very reason they can’t imagine getting rid of anything they own.

More on Hoarding and Other Attachment Disorders

I have one more real-life hoarding story for you. (It’s me!) I am a reformed book hoarder. And, since I do not have Munchausen Syndrome, it’s an honest tell-all and a companion article to this one. I share the story of how it began in 1996 and how I took my control back in 2019. If you would like to gain more insights into hoarding and more importantly, how to let go, that article is here.

Hoarding wasn’t the only attachment disorder I had. I was also attached to dissociate activities. Mostly workaholism but also any activity that did not involve other people. So, reading and gaming became my choice hobbies. While both attachment disorders were very much intertwined, I chose to keep my book hoarding theme as separate as possible from my dissociate activities.

The dissociative activities attachment will be covered in next week’s article. So, there will be another companion article, where I will share my other attachment disorder. It does beg the question, though. While I do believe that an attachment disorder to dissociate activities can be exclusive, I’m not sure if hoarding can be. After all, even in Albert’s story, he was dissociating through lies. Tell me what you think as we explore these attachment disorders together.