Teppy, I hope that you're feeling better. I once asked a friend why he still had naked photos of his exGF who he hated (long story as to how it came up), and essentially he said - 1. It's a naked picture of a girl. 2. It's a naked picture of someone that he had good sex with and 3. He enjoyed that she let him take naked pictures of her.

I advised him that his current GF would not appreciate them, and he should get rid of them. He allowed as to I was right. But I'm not sure that he got rid of them, he might have just hidden them better. @@

Has anyone had any luck in getting a Significant Other to give up his clutter? Much of Hubby's junk actually does trigger memories he wouldn't otherwise be able to access, and he find it an unconscionable waste to get rid of stuff that might be useful. I won't even go into trying to get him to acknowledge that he won't get to the wonderful projects he has in mind for stuff.

Has anyone had any luck in getting a Significant Other to give up his clutter?

Not me actually. But DH had someone else convince him that some of his stuff was too old. So every so often he does go through the computer boxes . and he goes through other stuff occasionally like the tools. and he is way better a getting rid of paper than I am

That's a hard one. The best persuaders, I think, are monetary. Get into how much $ in overhead someone is paying to store something they rarely/never use. My mom is a great organizer...of other people's stuff. She's got a serious clutter problem when it comes to her own, though. I know what it's like because I'm the same way. Since arriving here and doing a little cleaning to make space for myself, I've seen many tools that they have in numbers far past what they need. I've been thinking of taking an inventory just to demonstrate that. There have to be 25 pairs of scissors, 6 Filter Queen vacuum cleaners, etc. Sometimes they get extras because they cannot find the ones they already own. I think once I put it in some terms like that, it might be enough of a nudge to do something about it.

With things that are flat, scan them in and get rid of the originals in all but the most sentimental/value cases. For some things, a picture is enough to trigger memories without having to have the real object.

I believe the "unable to get rid of clutter" ADD thing more complex than the sources of clutter for other sorts of people who cannot part with clutter. Not only are we kings and queens of procrastination, together with being apt to miss social cues (in spite of the keen emotional sensitivity that is fairly common), but we have a heck of a time actually being able to slap reasonable priorities on things. Plus - as my therapist said to me, back when I was working with one, the wonderful thing about the ADD mind is that it can see all the possibilities in something. The hard part is being able to focus on winnowing out the choices down to a reasonable point. So it takes a heck of a lot of practice for someone with ADD to successfully declutter - because it really is a big challenge to go from "I can make something out of that/fix that/clean it up" to "screw it, I know I will never actually get around to it". Plus the call of "But I might need that some day" is a siren song for us, almost as powerful as it is for Depression era babies.

I'm nodding like a noddy thing and just pointing: What Windsparrow said. Also, my mom was a Depression-era baby, so, double-whammy.

I've said before but it's certainly worth saying again. H could commit heinous crimes and I'd excuse a lot in gratitude for him and StY clearing out Mom's house once she was in assisted living. I'm an only child, and the last of the family on both my dad's and my mom's sides. All that family history, every object, every heirloom, every photograph, epitaph, graduation announcement, wedding invitation, boxes and boxes of memorabilia of people, a very few of whom I'd met as a preschooler, the rest I'd never met at all. And suddenly I'm the keeper--that weight was crushing. Especially given that I'm paralyzed by simple decision-making on good days. Every clipping, every ceramic poodle, every sugar bowl and egg cup and antimacassar would have been a decision for me, and that I never had to make any of them was such a rescue I can't convey the importance of it. I was brought a handful of things they thought I might want to donate or give to distant cousins or possibly keep. The rest of it--magically gone. And yes, there were some things I'd wanted to keep that got tossed, but it's a small price to pay.

Someone else's house I could do. But not my parents', not my childhood home.

Seska, I'm sorry this period is so rocky for you. Stay strong, though. You want a good clear basis for a decision. And I sympathize on the non-receptive nature of The Girl's family.

Laura, if there were saints, you'd be in the running. What a wonderful thing to do for your family.

Go Sean! Murderize that clutter.

It's just so hard to not let it creep up. I maintain there's a time limit on how long random objects retain their discrete object-hood when resting on a horizontal surface. That limit's expiration results in the object becoming part of the horizontal surface and no longer visible as a separate object. Mail on coffee table: two hours. Books on sideboard: one evening. Skis on floor along bookcase front: ten days. By that time you automatically skirt the volume they occupy and no longer see them as foreign to that space. Newspapers disappear almost the instant they hit carpet, as do small toys. Keys, sunglasses, checkbook, phone (until it makes traceable noise), on table or entry shelf or that end of the dining table, less than an hour. So the key is, not to put anything down at all until you can put it where it belongs. This is sort of like the only handle paper once rule--read the newsletters and circulars as you toss them in the recycling bin, file coupons as you clip them, don't save them till you have a pile. Likewise with filing. If you file a single piece of paper four times in an afternoon, it's better than creating a stack of four pieces of paper on the corner of your desk, because that small stack attracts other pieces of paper and you turn around two weeks later and the stack is sliding off your desk onto the floor, and then it's all over because (continued...)

( continues...) it hits the floor and it disappears forever.

Connie, I've had no luck, other than moving cross-country, in parting H from his precious. What I did manage to make stick is him having generous space to store, sort, and enjoy his things, with the severe proviso that it not leave those confines. Anything of his found in neutral territory gets dumped back in his space. And I don't ask more than once for him to move it himself. If I have to call in a neighbor or two to move something too heavy for me, the embarrassment seems to be deterrent enough for the future.

Steph, I hope the headache has eased up considerably, and everyone's doing as well as possible.

In me news, my doctor has prescribed a niacin supplement. I'd taken it before and stopped it arbitrarily because of the flushing. This time I'm using time-release, and while the flushing isn't nearly as bad, I am having hot flashes. I'm told those will subside as my system gets used to the supplement, but the thing that's bugging me is that I break out in an allover sweat. For about ten minutes I'm soaked. You'd think I'd run a couple of miles. My back, my front, under my breasts, my elbows, my knees, and my scalp are all just soaked. And then I'm left drying and sticky under my clothes. I hate sweating anyway, and plan my exercise periods so I can shower before I have to go be presentable. Now I'm trying to work the niacin in so I can take it before I exercize and get all the icky over at once.

Does anybody know if there's anything I can take to reduce this reaction? I'm supposed to triple the dose over the next two weeks. I may just spend half the day or so in the shower.

My parents both take niacin and the flushing never subsided for either of them (it's been years, now). They can both sleep through it, though, so they just take it at night. It sounds like that might not be helpful for you, though. Good luck.

I don't think I can weigh in on the clutter conversation right now. There is information encoded in the way the clutter has accumulated and I am loathe to lose that. Eventually, a lot will have to go, but not yet.

TCG and I are both prone to too much clutter. We try to purge a bunch of stuff whenever we move, but it has been a while since our last move. And of course as I say this we are in Cape Cod where I won't be able to resist the call of more stuff.

Teppy, I hope that you're feeling better.

We actually talked about it today, driving out to his parents' house. He brought it up ("Uh, sorry about those pictures of [ex-wife].") And I told him that I would be grateful if he could get the family photos he needed off that CD and burn a new one and get rid of the CD with the nudie pictures.

He said "Oh god, yes. I was thinking that last night, but at that moment, I just needed to get the CD out of the computer and move on to looking for pictures of Mom."

I told him I wasn't *angry,* as much as I was surprised and also squicked. He said he should have been more thorough and gotten rid of stuff when I moved in, and I said, "Well, I know by now that you forget about stuff if it's not right in front of you. And I *do* appreciate that these pictures *weren't* right in front of you!"

Then he mentioned there was more than one CD of pictures he'd have to purge, and I must have given him a look akin to oh-my-god-dude-why-all-the-nudie-pix?, because he said, "They're the same pictures; I just get obsessive about backing up my computer and have duplicate CDs."

I couldn't help it; I had to laugh. The porn! Won't someone think of the porn!

Relatedly, we were out at his parents' house earlier helping with random stuff, and his dad asked me if I knew Latin. I said I knew some words, because they're the roots for English words, but not enough to translate anything, but I could probably figure it out with Google. So he asked me if I could translate a Latin phrase on the bottom of a picture of Jesus with a crown of thorns, etc., very dramatic picture.

I got on the computer to Google it, and muttered, "I feel like Giles." And Tim said "Don't speak Latin in front of the books!"

Also, Tim's dad suggested to us both that we could go to our neighborhood's Catholic church and take refresher classes on being Catholic (they're basically classes for people who want to convert, but I guess infidels like us are welcome to take them, too), and then we could be members of our local parish. Tim, being diplomatic, said, "I'll think about that." I just nodded.

I told Tim later that I know his dad's faith is extremely important to him, and I would do a LOT to support and comfort him right now, but I cannot tell his dad that I'll go back to the Catholic church. There's too much that I cannot abide or tacitly support by my membership.

Tim told me he knew that conversation with his dad would happen sooner or later, and it probably will happen again. I'm going to have to figure out how to tactfully express that it ain't for me. I don't need to bad-mouth his faith or anything, but I also cannot pretend that I'm okay with it.

Two days after the funeral, we're all (Tim's family, that is) still going away on the trip we had planned for his parents' 50th anniversary. I think it'll be good for the family, but I also don't want to get rooked into a literal come-to-Jesus conversation. Gah.

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Steph, I hope the headache has eased up considerably, and everyone's doing as well as possible.

The headache WILL NOT DIE. I had to come home from Tim's parents' house so I could be in a cool, quiet, dark place (with less Jesus) and take percocet (I wasn't going to take it before driving, b/c it's a 20-minute drive to his parents' house.) Percocet puts a dent in it, but when it wears off, the pain comes back. Evil.

And suddenly I'm the keeper--that weight was crushing.

Oh, yes. I have Hubby's mother's stuff, and she had lots of old photo albums--early 1900s stuff. No names. Older relatives of Hubby's dad have said they'd love to have copies, but I don't have time to go through them and make copies and ship out etc. Plus there's all the correspondence between his dad and mom when his dad was in Nam. And I have had the responsibility for judging this stuff's worth dumped on me. "Here are the things this person judged worth keeping. Decide whether it was worth it or not." Hubby's brother and sister make vague "Oh, that stuff, kind of cool, no I don't want it" noises. His daughter shrugs. I hate the responsibility, and I hate just consigning stuff that's survived for a hundred years to the trash.