- At the age of 18, Morgan began to hoard her belongings after experiencing the loss of many loved ones in her life
- Being diagnosed with chronic bipolar disorder made it difficult for Morgan to control her hoarding, and before she knew it, items were stacked to the ceiling of every room
- But after the birth of her daughter, Morgan knew things had to change, so she embarked on a significant journey to transform her home
Here Morgan Fechter, 35, tells her story in her own words.
Holding the cardboard box, my mind went into overdrive as I imagined all the ways that I could repurpose it.
This could be great for an art project, I smiled, taking it out to the shed.
But when I opened the door, the mountain of junk was overwhelming.
Since I was young, I’d always found it incredibly hard to let go of things, after a number of my friends died in tragic circumstances.
Aged 18, I began obsessively holding onto every article of clothing, birthday card and gift, in fear that one day I might lose them forever, just like my friends.
When my mum, who was strict about keeping the house tidy, insisted I stop, I resorted to storing things in my own room instead.
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‘Piles of laundry, schoolwork and food containers lined every surface of my bedroom and my bathroom.’
Stuffing my belongings into my wardrobe, I soon struggled to close the door. But it didn’t deter me.
Items continued to pile up under my bed, behind the door and, in time, I could no longer see the wooden floor of my bedroom.
Piles of laundry, schoolwork and food containers lined every surface of my bedroom and my bathroom.
By 20, my obsessive collecting had caused friction between us, so I moved into my own place.
Despite having more room to store my stuff, it wasn’t long before the rooms were all jam-packed with memorabilia, art supplies, scraps and boxes.
But being alone began to take its toll on me.
Living with chronic bipolar disorder, which I’d been diagnosed with aged 13 and managed on and off with medication, I struggled to hold down a job for any longer than two weeks.
My disability pension helped.
But my bipolar disorder intensified and I spent time living on the streets.
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Not wanting to part with my possessions, I used any spare money I got to pay rent on a storage room, terrified if I parted with anything I’d never be able to replace it.
In 2011, aged 21, I made the decision to get my life back on track after seeking help from a doctor who helped me with my meds.
Aged 27, I became a mum to my beautiful daughter, Maddie.
I moved back home with Mum for extra support. As Maddie grew older though, I wanted to have a stable career and move into a new home, where my girl could have a wonderful childhood.
So I started an art degree and moved into a three-bedroom house with my girl in 2021, hoping we could have a fresh start.
Unfortunately, I began to hoard again. Terrified of losing everything I’d worked so hard to build, I began to hoard canned and dried food in the kitchen. I also clung onto Maddie’s baby clothes, art projects and schoolwork.
Soon, every surface in our home was chock-a-block with belongings and I couldn’t see a way out.
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‘How could I have let it get this bad? I tortured myself.’
Maddie’s room was kept tidy. But overwhelmed by the state of my bedroom, which was piled high, I resorted to sleeping on the lounge. And instead of brushing our teeth in the bathroom, we were forced to use the kitchen sink.
Deeply ashamed of my hoarding, I refused to have people over. But as Maddie got older, I worried about how it would impact her mental wellbeing.
I want her to have a fulfilling and fun childhood. I need to clean this house for my girl, I thought.
But the mess was so overwhelming, I didn’t know where to begin.
Then in February 2025, when I discovered our cat had been urinating outside of his litter box and it’d gone unnoticed due to the piles of mess, I broke down.
How could I have let it get this bad? I tortured myself.
I knew I couldn’t let this go on for any longer. My hoarding had to be stopped.
‘I’m going to fix this,’ I promised Maddie, then aged seven.
‘I’m so proud of you, Mummy!’ Maddie screamed with excitement when she came home.
Sending her to her Dad’s house, I got a skip bin and began decluttering our home piece by piece.
Starting in the shed, I was horrified to discover it was infested with rats.
Spending up to 18 hours a day sorting through the mess, I found it really difficult to part with things, but knew it was for the best.
By day 10, I managed to create a clear walkway in the house, and bin most large items.
‘I’m so proud of you, Mummy! I can’t wait to invite my friends over now for sleepovers,’ Maddie screamed with excitement when she came home.
Seeing a smile on my girl’s face was the greatest reward.
In time, I tackled the kitchen, bathroom, and laundry. Sharing my progress on Tiktok, @daughter_of_therockafire I wanted to keep myself accountable and support others who, like me, have been struggling in silence.
I received thousands of messages, which motivated me to keep going.
You’re a true inspiration, people said.
A year on, I’m still working to organise the items I have kept, but I’m so proud of how far I’ve come already.
While I am still making progress on my room, I am now able to sleep in my bed, brush my teeth in the bathroom and cook dinner in a clean kitchen.
I still fight the urge to hoard at times, but working with therapists and taking daily medication has helped me come a long way.
Better still, Maddie, now eight, can invite her friends over without feeling embarrassed.
For years I felt trapped by mess, but now I’m free, and I won’t go back
