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4.0

"While at camp one summer, she confided her secret [namely, that her parents were hoarders] to a new friend. She wanted some sympathy and understanding, but instead got what she characterized as 'morbid interest -- like I had just described a cool bird I'd seen at the zoo.'"

I got that feeling while reading this book. At times, it felt like simply a chronicling of all the secret atrocities of hoarders. While reading, I'd get that same feeling you get when you guiltily watch too much reality TV or stupid YouTube videos. Like I shouldn't be entertained by this, because we are exposing something that shouldn't be exposed.

I did learn a little, though. I'd heard that hoarding stems from perfectionism, and I now have a better understanding of why: nothing can be thrown away until it's properly dealt with: every article read, every flyer filed away. Anxiety and obsessive-compulsive disorder comes into play, as well. It was interesting to consider, too, the value we place on objects; why would a shirt worn by Jerry Seinfeld have more value than any other shirt? I think a lot of people can relate to valuing objects based on the story it tells (I've got a plate from my great-grandmother displayed in my home, and I never plan on replacing my grandmother's trivets) -- but when every object has a story and you can't get rid of any of it, the hoarding can happen.

Interesting read though it did take a few weeks to get through.

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I'm still thinking about this book more than a month after finishing it; I think that's worth a higher star rating. Four stars for this one; it taught me a lot about hoarding.