By Anonymous
For many, the winter break is an exciting period to remember the foundational structures that built you and continue to support you. My friends reminisced about the smells of their favorite candle in their bedroom, tastes of the best meals of their parents, comfort of their sofa they once sat on everyday to watch their favorite films. This growing excitement I saw in many of my peers. However, I found myself in the minority. My home situation was something that led me to a feeling of dread. I would repeatedly find myself making up stories, imagining features of my home, and setting the scene to a life I knew I did not lead.
For context, my mother has been a hoarder for most of my life and this issue has gradually worsened since I was in nursery. Despite me living in a five bedroom home, I have not had access to all the rooms due to my mum's clutter, since I was five years old. After a failure in my parents’ marriage and a fragmented relationship with our extended family, in the last year before university, I was stuck travelling between my kitchen and bedroom, the only two uncluttered areas of my home.
Looking back, the Christmas break often left me mentally conflicted, and I had to become more constructive about the way I articulated myself and presented my life in order to not reveal the gravity of my suffering. Taking photos was a difficulty for me; I would always take a selfie of my cat against a wall to make sure no one would see the clutter in the background. I would force myself out of the house as much as possible because facing the clutter for too long filled me with embarrassment. I had to bite my tongue more frequently among my friends in case an attitude of spite was let out.
Lily Allott
Most damningly for myself, coming to university meant realising that my home situation had left me undersocialised. In first year, I remember one time leaving the kitchen in a state for a day when I had work in the evening. I had a friend visiting from home, an assignment due, and was distracted from my need to clean. I was absorbed in my own thoughts with my external needs. After the rightful anger of my flatmates, I realised I had learned some very bad habits that I needed to rear myself out of. However, more importantly, this was the first time in my adult life that I realised that I didn’t want my overwhelmed state to ever make me behave antisocially. One of the biggest fears of mine had always been turning out like my mother.
My situation is rare. Two to five per cent of UK households are estimated to have a hoarding problem. Much of my support has not come in friends with boyfriend troubles or exam stress but anonymous forums on Reddit and Quora. While not everyone can relate specifically to my life, many university students find themselves returning to a home situation that makes them feel as unsettled.
To the people reading this who do not relate, always commit yourself to treating people with kindness. When I have spoken to other people who’ve had very difficult home lives, they have also lacked confidence in speaking to others about their issues because of how privileged other students at the university appear to be. I even find this in myself. Because of my home situation and lack of family support, I have been committed to being the loudest in the room. I have always maintained my hobbies so I could hold enough social capital for people to never get bored of me. If I didn’t think in such a cerebral way about my social interactions, I know that university would have been a tougher experience. As I see myself, and many others in awful social situations overperforming to get by.
More importantly though, for people who are reading this article who relate to my life, I think that you have to try and think about home as something more than a physical structure with things inside. I view home as something more abstract, and define it as the people that make you feel secure. There are some people around me I deem too privileged to comprehend the sadness of my situation. However, I still see them as loving individuals who offer me care where I need. Support is not always who can fix things for you, but who is able to fill that space when it matters most.
From my university experience, when I now think of home, it does not equate to the stacks of paper in my living room or the rotting food in my fridge. It is the friends that make me feel safe. You too can build a home in the way that I have at university. Your situation can become less and less daunting when you can feel the excitement of returning to your true home.
Featured image: Epigram / Lindsay Shimizu
Whether you love or hate the break, how can you support those closest to you this winter?
