I grew up with parents that were hoarders. We moved a lot when I was a kid, and it would astound me that they would haul, what seemed like trash to me, from place to place. It's taken me a long time to realize that this wasn't something they did to me, that mentally healthy people don't do this. They had built this identity around their pain, and didn't know how to heal. I'm still working on this myself, trying to turn anger into compassion, and see depression for what it was. This isn't to let my parents off the hook for the ways in which they failed me. Forgiveness and understanding is something I have to do for myself. If you can't forgive other people, you probably won't have compassion for yourself either. I haven't got there 100%, I probably never will, because this is a journey where every day I have to ask if what I'm holding onto is serving me. We probably all hoard something in the end, maybe it's not physical things, but it's there nonetheless. I hope you all find the healing you need and deserve in life. I love you all, have a great day.