My Family's Shame.

I love my family. But everyday, I know something is wrong.

It started a few years ago when we purchased my daughter her first Barbie doll. We bought some outfits, a car and a townhouse, too. But somewhere along the line, something changed with Barbie. She began collecting items from other dolls - dishes, shoes, furniture and even food - anything she could get her little rubber hands on.

Pretty soon, Barbie's townhouse was filled with clutter and items from other dolls. She had crossed the line from a collector to a hoarder.

Barbie lives alone in her three-story, one bedroom townhome. Despite this, she owns four beds including a giant canopy that doesn't even fit in her house. She's also amassed five cars despite no discernible income since moving her veterinary practice into her home.

Her living room is littered with broken bedroom sets, table lamps, chairs, candelabras, princess wands and several unmatched shoes. A half eaten pizza sits near the front door and a box of ice cream is clearly visible beneath one of her three couches. Clothes are strewn throughout the house and even outside near her cars.

Barbie's kitchen rarely is used for its intended purpose - a chaise lounge blocks the entrance and the floor is covered with uneaten food and dishes. A clawfoot bathtub sits just outside where Barbie bathes for hours. The washer and dryer remain empty as clothes pile everywhere. The sink is free of dishes as Barbie almost never puts away her dishes. And a fully trimmed turkey sits untouched in the oven.

Kelly, Barbie's sister, hasn't ventured inside for months. They typically play outside at their shared swingset or meet for cotton candy next door. Barbie's boyfriend, Ken, isn't aware of Barbie's hoarding, as the two are no longer speaking. Instead, he spends his days naked in bed in the couple's RV camper.

It appears Barbie's extreme hoarding has already cost her lifelong dream of being a World Peace Ambassador/Life Guard/Astronaut/Ballerina.