The More Things Change

It's been a while since I posted here. My former sister in law has returned home from rehab with her wound pronounced healed. Now that she's mobile in a wheelchair, she's created even more of a Diogenes Syndrome "nest" in her bedroom and also in the house, with paper everywhere and silverware and dishes hidden in cabinets and under towels. I've been trying to keep things clean. But now the location of things and their provenance leads to a bitter argument at nearly every turn, as she suspects me of moving things or otherwise handling them. I begin to see first hand some of the secondary traits of Diogenes syndrome -- lack of self-reflection and a tendency to either escalate the trivial to insane proportions, or to drastically minimize the truly serious.
I got a wonderful email the other day from a man who described a pretty classic Diogenes pattern in the life of his parents. He thanked me for this blog and said that it was helpful to know that there's a name for what's happening with them. It's nice to know that you've made even a bit of difference -- and that for a moment,at least, he might feel a bit less alone.