Another day helping my mom untangle the mess in her home. I hadn’t realized that, over the years, she had started down her own path of hoarding. I understand that part of it comes from being alone and the influence of my frugal grandmother. But seeing the way she lives makes me both sad and angry. She lacks nothing, she has everything she needs to live a happy and comfortable life, yet she chooses not to. To be honest, I am angry.

As I clean up the mess, I realize that part of my organizing OCD is rooted in growing up with her. Memories from childhood flood back, how I was always confused by the clutter, how things were never where they should be, how there were always little things scattered everywhere. Back then, I hadn’t yet developed the idea that I could take control and organize things, so I simply tolerated it. But deep down, it affected me in ways I didn’t fully understand until now.

Oh Lord, I know that in order to move forward, I must first go back and settle the old wounds. I am here now, and I am ready to do the work. Guide me with patience and give me the courage to stand against temptation and wrong influences.