I suspect I may be a hoarder.

I'm beginning to pack up my room at the moment; I'm moving all my stuff out in stages over the next month before I move to Canada for my exchange. How hard could that possibly be? It's only one room in a tiny apartment, I've only lived here a few months and I travel a lot, so I must be good at packing. Right? Well, I've already filled a 70kg tramping bag with clothes I figure I could live without for the next month. Next to that is a bag filled with books that I'm hoping to slip into my brother's bag when he's not looking. I've calculated how much clothing I could wear on the plane - and my room is still full of stuff. I've thrown a little bit out, but most of my things are essential. Like my clothes - everyone needs clothes, and I've got my teeshirts down to five. From twentyfive. And my university work is totally necessary, it's just a shame that it entails so many text books. And course readers. And any bit of paper my hot tutor touched. I'm just very attached to my things. Like my rubber duck collection. I've justified hanging onto them because they're small, and that then allows for my little toy ponies and my porcelain elephants. And my bags - how did I end up with so many? I use all of them, so I couldn't possibly pack them away. Maybe I'll pack them with other things, like the shot glass collection I've acquired, or the giant St Patrick's day hat.
Which again begs the question - where did all this stuff come from and WHY do I still have it?
I think there are probably professionals who can help me with my problem. Some might suggest professional rubbish truck men would be the go. Until then I guess I'll just have to look for a bigger place.