'I had home from hell after chronic hoarding but 2 things were always spotless'

Books and toys piled high, shopping still in grocery bags and brand new clothes collecting dust; a narrow pathway through each room and barely space to open a curtain – this was the home of a hoarder. Sue James, 57, from Birmingham, describes her house as “what hell looked like” before she sought help but now after decades of accumulating “stuff”, the reformed hoarder opens up about living with the hidden mental health issue.

"I was a hoarder for nearly 40 years and I firmly believe it originated from my traumatic childhood. I had few toys of my own or real possessions to cherish and so when I finally left home at 18 I went shopping.

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I bought myself clothes and things for my house and from that day I said, 'Right, this is mine. I bought this for myself brand new. No one can make me share it or give it away.' That’s how my hoarding journey started – I’d had nothing that was purely mine before then and so I didn’t want to let anything go.

I was heavily pregnant when I split up with my first husband and my second husband had his own mental health struggles. I went on to be diagnosed with multiple sclerosis (MS) in my mid-twenties, which added to the stresses and strains of my life. When my house was at its worst, it was filled to the brim with random things piled high, almost to the ceiling. I would buy shopping and didn’t even take it out of the bags.

There was nowhere to put anything in any cupboards so I would just walk into the house with my shopping and put the
bag down. I’d just get groceries out of the bags as needed.

There was probably a foot of room either side of my bed, while on the sofa of my lounge I would have to keep moving things around to sit down. There would be avalanches of stuff every time I tried to rest.

I did have little walkways throughout the house so I could access every room but I might not necessarily be able to get
to the windows in these rooms to open them, or to close the curtains.

I had fire service safety checks and they would say to me, “Well, you can move around in the house but you know that there are safety risks. Things could fall on you or you could trip on things.”

I’d already spent my life falling over nothing – when I was diagnosed with MS my neurologist looked back over my medical history and realised my symptoms had started when I was aged eight or nine. I’ve broken my left wrist 28 times and my right wrist twice, I’ve broken my ankle in five places and every finger and toe.

So the state of my home was even more dangerous given my disability.

No one knew

Cleanliness was never an issue when it comes to my hoarding, my bathroom and toilet were the only two rooms that weren’t “hoarded” and I was always clean and presentable when I left the house.

I never had a problem throwing away rubbish or recycling either – a crisp packet would always go straight into the bin. When it came to my hoarding, it was about things that had an intrinsic value, whether monetary or sentimental.

Books have been a huge issue when it comes to hoarding because their importance was drilled into me as a child. The knowledge you can obtain from books is valuable so I struggle to let them go. No one knew I was a hoarder – I wouldn’t let anybody into the house, visitors were a complete no-no. At first I was happy, with my shiny new possessions no one could take away from me.

I moved several times over the years and each time my home got a little bit bigger, meaning I had more space to keep stuff in.

But I came to realise my kids shouldn’t have to live in that situation – it’s no surprise my younger son is a minimalist now he’s grown-up and he’s been so encouraging in my recovery.

So about five years ago I decided to knuckle down and face up to my hoarding – I thought, “I’ve got to do something about this.” It was Christmas 2019 when I reached rock bottom. My electricity went off and I went round the house trying to access the plug sockets to unplug items, with great difficulty. I wanted to see if I could flip the switch on the fuse board to get the electric back on by doing this and I couldn’t, so it was just my dog and I in the dark for days.

It was crippling. I was tripping over things, hurting myself and I spent hours sitting in McDonald’s drinking coffee and charging my phone. I had no money to get the electricity working again but in the end I posted about my situation on a local community board and someone stepped in to help me and didn’t charge me a penny.

Making a cry for help

Making the first step is the hardest, you have to let people in – literally – and thankfully, it’s all coming together and making sense for me now. I saw a lady advertising locally, she did some cleaning and had a few hours available every week. I was scared to get in touch, I told her I needed physical help to sort my home out, I tried my best to explain what hell looks like.

She came over, and was greeted by piles of boxes. I thought she was going to back out. Instead, she said it was doable – she worked with me four hours a week and the improvement has been huge.

I want to remove the stigma about hoarding, it is a hidden mental health issue that should be more openly talked about. Some people are too ashamed to seek help, others don’t know where to turn. And it’s about knowing how to help – you can’t just walk into someone’s house and say, “You’ve got too much stuff. You have to get rid of it.”

I’m now at the end of my decluttering journey – it’s possible to turn things around with the right support.

Visit www.cloudsend.org.uk for support and information about hoarding