Matt Paxton Goes Inside 'The Secret Life of Hoarders'

May 10, 2011— -- Matt Paxton, star of A&E's hit show "Hoarders", has helped dozens of people struggling with the disorder. In his new book "The Secret Life of Hoarders" he gives readers an in-depth look at some of the most extreme cases he's seen and he explains why this happens.

Read an excerpt from "The Secret Life of Hoarders" below, then check out some other books in the "GMA" library.

It was the summer of 2006 and I was desperate for work.I was living in Richmond, Virginia, and sleeping on abuddy's couch after a few adventures with jobs that wentbad and an attempt to start my own business that failed. Iconsider myself to be a hard worker and usually have greatideas, but this time I just didn't know what to do.I decided to try to pick up a few cleaning jobs to earnenough money to help my buddy pay rent. I printed up someflyers and stuck them in mailboxes in an upscale neighborhood, and the next day I got a phone call. An older couplewanted me to empty out their son's house and organize anestate sale. The son, Timothy, had died recently, and theysaid there was just too much stuff for them to handle.I agreed to a price of a few hundred dollars. If I had hadany inkling what I was heading into, I would have chargedthousands. I had cleaned houses before, mostly helping mygrandmother and aunts, and I wasn't afraid of mess. But thisguy had been collecting things for decades. When his parentsshowed me into the house, I was overwhelmed by thesheer volume of clutter. Every room had stacks of dustcoveredboxes, bags, and cartons piled up to six feet high.Narrow, dark corridors snaked between the walls of stuff—Ihad to turn sideways to get through some of the tight spots.On my second day of trying to pull items out of the houseto sort and price for the sale, I realized I was in over myhead. I called my buddy's brother, Colin, and asked him tohelp. We needed a truck, so he grabbed another friend whohad one. Both of them were still in high school so we wereonly working late afternoons and weekends. It took us threeweeks to finally empty out that house.

Although Timothy had the most cluttered house I hadever seen, the stuff that he'd collected showed that he had alot of interests, ranging from music to German toy trains toantique furniture. Evidently he went through periods of collectingeach one of those, which we could tell by the layersof stuff and the dates on the letters and magazines in the layers.It was like being on an archaeological dig. We could tellthat from 1975 to 1980 he was into high-end stereo equipmentand vinyl recordings. Then, from 1980 to 1984, heslowed down and was mainly hanging on to mail and magazines.He started saving musical instruments around 1985,and then a few years later added the trains. He collectedboard games too.

Timothy wasn't there to tell us anything about himself, butwe were able to learn a little bit of his story. His parentsshared with us that Timothy had killed himself, which mademe wonder whether he was one unhappy guy who'd collectedall this stuff in an attempt to find some joy in life, or whetherhis collection had finally overwhelmed him and driven him todespair. Timothy was a mystery that I wanted to unravel.On the day of the estate sale, I noticed an attractivewoman and a companion walking through the house. Shekept pointing things out to her friend and explaining whatthey were. I realized that she knew her way around therooms, and she recognized everything there. I pulled heraside and asked if she was familiar with the house. She saidthat she was, and in fact had lived there off and on withTimothy.

It turned out that she and Timothy had been in love foryears, but Timothy had never introduced her to his parentsbecause he feared their judgment about being in an interracialrelationship. Instead, he guarded a secret life that hidnot only his relationship but his ever-expanding collectionof stuff. While I didn't press Timothy's friends or parents formuch information, the story I pieced together was moving. Isaw a grown man, desperately unhappy because he waskeeping his life a secret, who had turned to collecting tocomfort himself. Then things got out of hand.

That struck a chord with me because I knew a little bitabout unhappiness, tragedy, and addiction. I had spent afew months working for a large casino in Lake Tahoe in1999, and while I was there I fell in love with gambling. Itbecame a full-blown addiction, so bad that at one point Ifound myself $40,000 in debt. When I couldn't pay mybookie, he broke my nose and I had to leave town.I eventually paid back my debt and I haven't gambledsince, but I know what it feels like to be lonely and miserable,and to turn to something that feels good at the momentbut is ultimately destructive. Timothy's situation felt morethan a little familiar to me and I found myself wishing Icould have met the guy and talked with him about it.With the estate sale completed and after a final cleanup ofwhat was left behind, I started looking for another messyhouse to clean.

The second job was referred to me by a social worker ina nearby county. She had a case in which a woman in hermid-forties, Aimee, was living in a terrible state of squalor.She was all but confined to her bed, where she slept, ate, andwent to the bathroom by leaning off the side of the mattress.The place had been officially condemned by the county, andsince there was some funding to clean it up, the socialworker, who had seen a copy of my flyer that said no casewas too extreme, called us in. She did give us fair warningthat it would really test the limits of our claim. And she wasright: The whole place stank from rotting food, urine, andfeces. During our first visit to Aimee's house, the socialworker gave us the background on this case—and it was thefirst time I heard the word "hoarder."

I went home and started researching hoarding. The disorderwas fascinating because I could relate to a lot of the feelingsand experiences that a hoarder goes through. I knew Icould really help these people in need.

As my two buddies and I cleaned her house, we talkedwith Aimee, asking about her life. She admitted that she hadrejected everyone because of her hoarding. Although shedidn't want us in her home, she was happy to know thatsomeone was interested in her story, and I wanted to find outmore about her—and about the phenomenon of hoarding.Since Aimee, I've had hundreds of hoarding clients, rangingfrom people who just have a cluttered garage that theywant to get under control, to those with entire houses overflowingwith trash, feces, animals (alive and dead), andvermin.

I didn't set out to be an extreme cleaning specialist. Whathooked me was learning that hoarders are people with seriousissues, and that only a few of their life decisions orevents separate me from them. What if I hadn't been able topay back my bookie? What if he had broken more than mynose? What if my friend hadn't loaned me his couch for afew months when I was down on my luck? I could haveended up like any of the clients I work with, or worse.I have learned that hoarders don't love the way they live.I see them struggling to clean up but just not having themeans or the willpower to get it done. Maybe their familiesdon't understand them, or perhaps they have an untreatedmental illness that blocks the path to staying clean.After years of working with hoarders, I've figured outhow to make sense of their world because I understand thehard times they've experienced.

I can get them talking abouttheir issues and help them straighten out their houses—andtheir lives. I'm not a therapist, but I work closely with experiencedpsychologists like Dr. Suzanne Chabaud, who specializesin obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) andhoarding at her clinic in New Orleans; Dr. Robin Zasio,who runs the Compulsive Hoarding Center in Sacramento,California; Dr. Lisa Hale, who heads the Kansas City Centerfor Anxiety Treatment; Dr. Renae Reinardy, head of theLakeside Center for Behavioral Change in Fargo, NorthDakota; and Dr. Elizabeth Moore and other specialists atthe Institute of Living in Hartford, Connecticut.The bottom line is that hoarders are good people who arestruggling with difficult issues. To move toward recoverythey need love and help, not ridicule. That doesn't mean wedon't talk about their issues. Hoarders aren't stupid, andthey know that what they are doing is a problem.

But threatening,bullying, and issuing ultimatums aren't going to prodthem to clean up. They want to de-clutter, but they can'tunless they have encouragement and support.I've worked with hoarders living in houses filled with rottingfood and dog feces, and hoarders living with dozens ofanimals running all over the house. I've helped hoarders let goof their beloved collections of handbags, handguns, and deadrats. The truth is that some recover, and some don't. Hoardingis a serious mental illness, and sometimes "recovery" is arelative term. But I have learned what the challenges are andhow to address them. I have seen what the critical elements ofsuccess are for any hoarder, and how those elements can combineto give a hoarder the best chance at de-cluttering.I can help families and others working with hoardersmaximize the hoarder's chances for getting and stayingclean. It's a long and arduous process, and I will explainhow to stay patient and positive for the months, and sometimesyears, that it takes.

The key is hope. As long as everyone involved believesthat the hoarder's life can get better, it truly can.