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  • Locked thread
Jul 24, 2009

Everyone should be careful about putting in too many revealing details about family members lest someone track a person down and start trouble!

Books, websites, and more are listed in the thread. Please PM me if you want me to add a link here.

This is a thread for people to vent about their crazy parents, ask for advice, and give encouragement.

A lot of people feel like their story isn't worth sharing, but don't feel that way. Sharing here can help others with their situations, and helps people know that they're not alone. And, everyone's been really supportive here, so please don't think your story is too boring or unimportant.

How do you know if you've got Crazy Parents?

Here are Signs/Symptoms you'll feel.


An unending drive to be perfect and to do things the "best" way.
It's hard to relax, laugh or be spontaneous.
You expect others to hurt, judge, or take advantage of you.
You feel as if you are under scrutiny even when no one else is around.
You have harsh "inner critics."
You lose yourself in relationships by automatically putting others' needs first.
You have trouble asserting yourself or feeling proud of your accomplishments.
You feel intimidated or easily angered around controlling people.
You have an eating disorder or addictive behaviors.
You exhibit hypervigilance, which is "an enhanced state of sensory sensitivity ... used to detect threats."

It's true that these symptoms can be caused by other things, but if you downplay what your parents did, or downplay your feelings about your parents, then they may have more to do with your symptoms than you realize:


You feel disloyal when acting or feeling differently than your parents.
You feel easily annoyed or impatient with your parents without knowing why.
You feel confused by parental mixed messages.
You're afraid to express your true feelings around your parents.
You feel intimidated or belittled by your parents.
You worry more about pleasing your parents than being yourself.
You find it hard to emotionally separate from your parents.
You talk to your parents more out of obligation than choice.
You get tense when you think about being around your parents.
You want to temporarily reduce or sever contact with a parent.
(You've wished your parents were dead, even in a joking way.)
(You feel like you have no choice and are forced to do things their way.)

(lists from

So, just how crazy are my parents?

. . .How many traits apply to your Mom or Dad?


Smothering Terrified of feeling alone, Smothering parents emotionally engulf their children. Their overbearing presence discourages independence and cultivates a tyranny of repetition in their childrenís identities, thoughts and feelings.

Depriving Convinced they will never get enough of what they need, Depriving parents withhold attention and encouragement from their children. They love conditionally, giving affection when a child pleases them, withdrawing it when displeased.

Perfectionist Paranoid about flaws, Perfectionistic parents drive their children to be the best and the brightest. These parents fixate on order, prestige, power and/or perfect appearances.

Cult-like Distressed by uncertainty, Cultlike parents have to be "in the know," and often gravitate to military, religious, social or corporate institutions or philosophies where they can feel special and certain. They raise their children according to rigid rules and roles.

Chaotic Caught up in an internal cyclone of instability and confusion, Chaotic parents tend toward mercurial moods, radically inconsistent discipline, and bewildering communication.

Using Determined never to lose or feel one-down, Using parents emotionally feed off their children. Hypersensitive and self-centered, Using parents see othersí gains as their loss, and consequently belittle their children.

Abusing Perched atop a volcano of resentment, Abusing parents verbally or emotionally bully ó or physically or sexually abuse ó their children. When theyíre enraged, Abusing parents view their children as threats and treat them accordingly.

Childlike Feeling incapable or needy, Childlike parents offer their children little protection. Childlike parents, woefully uncomfortable with themselves, encourage their children to take care of them, thereby controlling through role-reversal

(taken from
(Also consider Distant, Neglectful, Chronic Lying, and anything else I've missed that also causes emotional or physical damage.)

SCALE of CRAZY, from level 0-4

0. (None of the Above)
Angelic: Your parent is super nice and makes you feel good about yourself on a regular basis. Sure you disagree sometimes, but more often than not you love being around him/her. Typically you'll have a normal or positive self-image.

1. (One of the Above) (Note that "Abusing" is never without other traits)
Mildly annoying: They have that one thing they do and it gets pretty annoying sometimes, but aside from that, it's not too bad seeing him or her.

2. (2-3 of the Above)
Strongly Irritating: Sometimes the parent is nice, but at times get beside themselves and it's like they act up out of nowhere. Visits can be fun, or they can become really uncomfortable randomly, leaving you upset. Your general self-image will be on the negative end.

3. (4-5 of the Above)
Oppressive: You feel bad almost every time you see the parent, and feel bad even when they're not around. They may have an unfortunate condition that makes them act this way or they're just an idiot. Your general self-image is really negative.

4. (6-8 of the Above)
Hellish: As toxic as they get, this parent actively works against you in almost every way. Not only is your self-image rock-bottom, but the emotional side-effects interfere with your life to an extreme degree.

-------------------------How to Deal with your Crazy Parents-------------------------

a) Talking and Setting Boundaries

-Find resources on your situation. There are a lot of resources in the thread about Controlling People, BPD, Narcissism, Toxic Parents, and more.

-Figure out what boundaries you need and how to change your behavior towards your crazy parents. Do not try to change them:

bee posted:

- Being mindful of the idea that your crazy parent is more than likely to be set very strongly in their personality. They are not going to change, and you are very unlikely to be able to prevent them from saying or doing things which upset you. With this in mind, consider that instead of investing energy into worrying about the inevitable you focus on trying to minimize the negative impact your parent has on you. You can do this in a number of ways such as limiting the time you spend with them, choosing to remove yourself from situations where they start up on topics of conversation you don't care for, or only agreeing to see them in public places.
- Basically, it's ok to put yourself and protecting yourself ahead of your parent's feelings. If their feelings get hurt by you refusing to engage them in discussion/comments that enable them to hurt you, then that's just too bad for them because you deserve to not be put down or forced to feel guilty about standing up for yourself.

-In the process of setting up boundaries, you'll encounter resistance. You don't need to explain or discuss them unless/until you're ready.

-Ultimately, boundaries are the best way to handle difficult parents because sometimes rational discussion isn't possible. No matter how logical you are with them, some crazy parents will always be able to justify themselves, and they just won't care about what you have to say.

-They might change because of boundaries you set, or they may never change.

b) Temporary Non-Contact

If your crazy parents are ignoring your boundaries, or are still irritating even with boundaries, do temporary non-contact.

Write them an email or leave a voice-mail letting them know that you'll be back in touch with them once you've figured some things out. Have an end date in mind. Set ground rules for them and make sure they don't contact you until you're ready. If they contact you, ignore them until your end date. Try it for a few months.

Non-contact lets you discover for yourself how you really feel and lets you decide what to do with the relationship.

Anytime you feel hesitant about this, remember you're not severing, you're just giving yourself a chance to think without interruption.

...And, maybe you'll like non-contact. Maybe you'll make it a semiannual thing, or perhaps you'll realize that severing is the best option for you in the end.

c) Severing

When is severing okay?

-When you seriously want to, for your own reasons.
-You're willing to try being severed for at least one year.

Also, for those on the fence:

-Being in contact with them negatively affects you.
-If you can't get comfortable enough to talk to them, even in therapy.
-You've tried talking with them and they ignore you (continue their behavior).
-You've tried Temporary Non-Contact and they don't respect it.

What's severing with parents like?

Before you've severed, no matter how sure you are, you will feel hesitant, wrong, guilty, lonely, afraid, and more.

When you do sever, you'll go through the different stages of loss and grief. It will feel all sorts of bad for a while, but with the right kind of therapy and support, you'll gradually start to feel better. This is not an instant cure for your low self-esteem or your feelings about them, but it will help you develop independence, confidence, and eventually feel more like how a happy person should feel.

How to have a healthy sever

Don't argue with yourself:

Remember, this is your decision. It's what's best for you. Make a list of all the reasons why you wanted to sever, and keep that list on hand so you can read it any time you doubt yourself. Give yourself one year before reconsidering the sever.

And, no matter what, severing is not selfish because you're doing it to protect yourself.

Resist Temptation:

In the first year, your crazy parents and relatives will do whatever it takes to stop the sever. Subliminal guilting, a crisis, failing health, anything that seems legit (and could be) just to pull you back in. But this is not the time to stop the sever! The guilt will overwhelm you, but reread the reasons why you severed, and realize that one event/crisis will not make them suddenly change into the parent you've always wanted them to be.

Write a letter to them, keep it, and reread it anytime you miss them.
Don't respond to their mail. (Don't even read the mail, save it if you need to).
Don't answer their calls.
They are not allowed to stop the sever, only you are.
Look up "Fake Apology" and protect yourself from manipulation.
Look up "Cycle of Abuse."
Accept that they won't change out of the blue.
You are not obligated to your parents, no matter what.

Give yourself time to heal:

Allow yourself to "grieve the dream" of a perfect childhood/family and take time to understand what happened. The trauma isn't gone, but severing prevents the crazy parents from reopening old wounds and continuing to degrade you.

Severing can always be undone, but don't end the sever before a year is up! This is the time when they will try their hardest to stop the sever, but you should never stop a sever out of guilt. Your guilt is not a sign of regret. It's simply an awareness that you're resisting your parents, and causing them discomfort. They can handle it. If they don't help themselves, it's their choice and their problem. You need to focus on yourself and getting yourself to feel better.

If you feel the need to reopen contact, do it because you've had time to think, heal, and figure out your goals in the relationship. Guilt and obligation are bad reasons to reopen an unhealthy relationship.

Focus on yourself:

This one can be hard to remember (I regularly forget this) but it can be the most important.

Once you've had enough time to think and grieve, start focusing on your life. No matter what you've decided, keep the focus on your life and live for yourself first. Living for yourself still means that you can help and love people, but now you're doing it for the right reasons, and not out of a crushing sense of guilt.

Reward yourself for all the little things that you accomplish and remain patient with yourself. You will feel better and things will be better, just give yourself some time.

Thank you for posting!!

Somebody fucked around with this message at Jun 12, 2014 around 02:33


neon tarsier
Sep 14, 2007

not much chance for survival


neon tarsier fucked around with this message at Aug 28, 2013 around 03:09

Jun 3, 2006

Welcome to Trophy Island
Rub my tummy

I was going to start one of these threads, but since durpadurp already did, I'm just going to put the big long post about borderline personality disorder that I wrote on here.

Iíd like to preface this with the statement that I am not a psychiatrist, psychologist, licensed therapist, or counselor in any way, Iím simply a person who grew up with a mother who suffers from borderline personality disorder. Over the last two years, Iíve been in therapy to try and deal with my own emotions and disordered thinking when it comes to my mother, relationships, stress, and life in general. Iíve also been slowly overcoming the abuse I grew up with and working to slowly rebuild some form of normal, functional relationship with her after years of on/off estrangement.

To start, hereís some online references for borderline personality disorder:
Textbook Definition:
Mothers with BPD:
BPD Role ďTypesĒ:

Books I would recommend for dealing with crazy parents, specifically ones with borderline personality disorder or borderline traits:
Stop Walking on Eggshells: Taking Your Life Back When Someone You Care About Has Borderline Personality Disorder
Surviving a Borderline Parent: How to Heal Your Childhood Wounds and Build Trust, Boundaries, and Self-Esteem
Understanding the Borderline Mother: Helping Her Children Transcend the Intense, Unpredictable, and Volatile Relationship


How do I know if my parent has borderline personality disorder?

They were diagnosed with it by a doctor.

They werenít diagnosed with anything, because they refuse to go to therapy or get help, but I read the link above with all the symptoms of BPD and Iím pretty sure my parent has it?

Congratulations, you have a parent who possibly has BPD and possibly has a myriad of other disorders that can resemble BPD. The good news (the only good news) is that a lot of the techniques for dealing with an abusive parent, regardless of whether or not they have BPD, are the same. The important thing is that you learn to set boundaries and take care of your own mental health; you cannot force a mentally ill parent to get the treatment they need, nor will you ever be able to fix your parent. I recommend checking out the links and book recommendations above if you think your abusive parent may have BPD and would like to know how to handle the situation. The diagnosis of BPD is important for your parent and their doctor to have, you donít need it in order to get the help you need to move past the abuse.

I donít feel like reading the links above, what is borderline personality disorder?

DSM-IV posted:

BPD is manifested by a pervasive pattern of instability of interpersonal relationships, self-image, and affects, and marked impulsivity beginning by early adulthood and present in a variety of contexts, as indicated by five (or more) of the following:
1. Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment. Note: Do not include suicidal or self-mutilating behavior covered in (5).
2. A pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by alternating between extremes of idealization and devaluation. This is called "splitting."
3. Identity disturbance: markedly and persistently unstable self-image or sense of self.
4. Impulsivity in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging (e.g., spending, sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, binge eating). Note: Do not include suicidal or self-mutilating behavior covered in (5).
5. Recurrent suicidal behavior, gestures, or threats, or self-mutilating behavior.
6. Affective instability due to a marked reactivity of mood (e.g., intense episodic dysphoria, irritability, or anxiety usually lasting a few hours and only rarely more than a few days).
7. Chronic feelings of emptiness.
8. Inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (e.g., frequent displays of temper, constant anger, recurrent physical fights).
9. Transient, stress-related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms.

Why are only women diagnosed with BPD?

Borderline personality disorder is mostly diagnosed in women, because the behaviors associated with the disorder are mostly found in women. Men can and do have borderline personality disorder. However, men who are the victims of childhood abuse or other things that are commonly believed to be associated with BPD are more likely classified as PTSD. There is a current push by some psychologists to have borderline personality disorder classified as Complex PTSD. I fully support this change as it recognizes the fact that most people with BPD are victims of abuse and their disordered thinking is a direct result of an unstable or abusive childhood. There is a huge stigma about being diagnosed with borderline personality disorder, because itís commonly believed that people with that diagnosis cannot be helped with treatment and itís uncurable. While itís very difficult to treat BPD, there are some new techniques, like Dialectical Behavioral Therapy (DBT) that are showing a marked improvement in the treatment of this disorder. There have also been instances where ďdifficultĒ or ďunstableĒ patients were labeled or diagnosed with BPD and then refused treatment by therapists or psychiatrists, because it was thought there was nothing that could be done for them. Fortunately, this is changing. To me, the reclassification of BPD as Complex PTSD would be a big step forward in convincing people to get help. My mother, for example, refuses to admit that she has borderline personality disorder, despite the fact that her doctor diagnosed her with it, because she thinks it makes her sound like a bad person. I flat out asked her and she did answer me truthfully, but she made me promise to never tell my brother, because then he might think something was wrong with her. (There is no LOL emoticon large enough for this statement, by the way.) Only when people are diagnosed correctly can they receive the correct treatment, and as long as there are so many negative associations with BPD, people like my mother will refuse to get help.

Gray Cells
Mar 24, 2011

Beware of little gray kitties...

My mother is a chaotic, using, abusing type, possibly perfectionist and smothering as well.

Her mood changes very quickly and for no apparent reason. One minute she will be happy and acting kindly and being a great mother the next she can be so...awful. She will say one thing and mean another but you are meant to interpret what she means correctly. She tells me I'm not the daughter she wants me to be and how much better my sister is. Often will get me to do tasks she doesn't want to do, and if I refuse will throw almighty tantrums (screaming, shouting, slamming doors). She's also paranoid that I will tell other people about her and they will think badly about her, subsequently I am questioned whenever I have been with other people - "What did they say about me? What did you say about me? It better not be anything bad, I'm a good mother!"

Aug 4, 2009

I was hiding under your bench because I don't want to work out

Edited out.

Lethemonster fucked around with this message at Aug 20, 2013 around 22:21

Horrible Smutbeast
Sep 2, 2011

I haven't talked to my entire family in years because my mother is unmedicated, everybody knows she is, but nobody will do anything about it. I left when she threatened violence with me and everyone, including my aunts and uncles, told me to just apologize and make it up to her when all I did to set her off was not do the dishes "properly". My mother is a combination of everything but child like.

People don't really understand when you explain that your mother is crazy. I've had so many people tell me that I should just let her back into my life because "family is family!" They don't realize all the poo poo you had to deal with. A small list of what my mother would say or do to me would look like this:

-Tell me to kill myself because I was worthless ( 1-2 times a week)
-Would grab at my body and tell me I was disgusting and unlovable because I was "fat" (size 5 womens)
-Told me it was my fault I was raped because only disgusting creeps like fat women
-Screamed at me when I attempted suicide that I was a stupid selfish whore slut stinkyhole etc
-Withheld my school loans and money, forcing me to beg on the phone for enough to cover anti-depressants
-Refused to let me see any doctors or counselors since I could "just talk to her"
-Bullied her way into the doctor's office on the few appointments I had to dissuade me from saying anything
-Told me I needed to get a million dollar a year doing X or else I was a failure
-Was a failure because I wasn't married to a rich man at 21 with kids on the way
-Tried to sabotage every attempt I made at being independent

And the worst one, which takes a bit of explaining, was not getting me properly treated for learning disabilities and adhd. See, when you have adhd you appear smarter because you're more interested in random subjects or learning. The problem is you can't get it back out. When I started school the teachers sent me home and said I wasn't allowed to return until I had seen some child developmental therapists to see if my lack of speech, coordination and general abilities to be a functioning child were due to me being retarded. The doctors and therapists said I had probable adhd, learning disabilities and other things but they couldn't be sure so they couldn't diagnose me. My mother took that as a "win" and sealed all the paperwork away, ignoring letters from teachers from grade 3-12 asking her if I was literally retarded. I never got medical treatment because hey, she just WORKED HARDER and pulled herself up by HER OWN BOOTSTRAPS so I could too And hey, I appeared smart so really I was just being a selfish bitch who hated her so much I wanted to ruin my own life to hurt her.

gently caress crazy mothers. Don't ever feel bad for cutting ties with them. No matter what anybody says if they are harming your well being you don't owe them poo poo.

Nov 19, 2007
Someday I will put something clever and funny here!

Ah, thread sweet home. I was raised by a single blue-collar worker mother in the 1990s, which was a really bad time post collapse of the USSR due to economic problems, but also because society was very socially backwards and no one ever stood up to my mother abusing me and my sister. She would beat us and yell at us in red-faced rage constantly. I was convinced I was loving spawn of Satan as a child and still have some really messed up self image issues.

Some of the stuff she did used to keep me up at night, once she found out I got some bad grades in school and she threw out all my school accessories all over the room, cornered me and threatened to kill me with a knife if I moved, after which she left outside to cool down, while I stood in the corner choking on my tears and gunk. I was in 3rd grade. Another time she decided that she wants me to ride her ancient bike, so she decided to do what any reasonable, loving parent would and bring me out to the basketball court in the middle of 6 apartment blocks and proceed to yell and call me names because I wasn't able to ride a bike. Me and my sister were obese as children and she was really unhappy with that, she constantly belittled us for it after grabbing our tummy fat, so we went by the starvation method of losing weight, which gave my sister bulimia and severe psychosis and me a light psychosis. Mum thought it wasn't a big deal because "at least we weren't fat like pigs anymore". My sister tried to kill herself and when our mother found out, her response was "Well since she's such a gently caress up she should die."

Somewhere in my middle teens she realized that a teenager and a young adult with crushed psyches weren't going to give her the love and appreciation she craved, so she started hoarding cats. We lived in a 44 sq meter apartment and the cats started accumulating up to 4 and a big dog. The cat hair and stink of piss was everywhere. Complaints were met with yelling and suggestions to leave. She also got a habit of feeding the whole neighbourhood's flock of cats, about 30-50 depending on the time of the year. She would wake up at 4 am every day, interrupting her sleep and making her angrier more prone to outbursts on us, and go feed all the cats, all of them. "I can't stop going! They can't live without me."

I've ran away to another country for summer work and learned to my surprise that people can like me, respect me and acknowledged/taught me that I have 'feelings', 'needs' and other normal human things. Since then I've been slowly disconnecting from mother, she has been really pissed that I've left her. Our last communication was her yelling on the phone demanding that I help her with some internet problems she was having, me telling her not to call me if she was going to raise her voice at me for no reason, and her starting with "Listen here you piece of poo poo..." after which I put the phone down and never talked to her again. Infuriatingly, a week later she was calling our grandmother to complain that I didn't congratulate her with mothers day. My sister is a broken shell of a human being still living with her, on a ton of medication and obsessed with cats (6 last I've heard).

I'm slowly learning to deal with this poo poo, my therapist says I need to mentally disconnect from her still, learn that (most) people aren't out to gently caress me up and that I can be loved. Long way to go.

Somaen fucked around with this message at Aug 20, 2013 around 20:55

Canine Blues Arooo
Jan 7, 2008

when you think about it...i'm the first girl you ever spent the night with

Grimey Drawer

I'll forward this with a warning of 'this is probably uninteresting compared to other's stories'. My parents were honestly awesome in every way. I owe so much to them and I wouldn't trade them for the world. I had more or less a fairy-tail upbringing.

But if I have to complain, and I do...

My mother is extraordinary good at organizing. Her thoughts, plans, intentions, and goals (and how to get them) are planned what seems like years in advance. She has a contingency plan for every plan and if her contingency plan falls through, she can whip up something that adequately addresses her issue in a few minutes. This talent of hers has gotten her a position as the GM of a mid-sized business and it surprises no one who knows her that she's fantastic at it. She's great at inspiring people to do their best and is phenomenal at running the company.

However, with this gift comes a great mental record of events in stories and as a result, she has a really acute sense for when your lying. You can tell when she's questioning you because she starts constructing the scenario you may or may not be lying about in her head and starts asking pointed questions, trying to catch you in your lie. It was like answering questions coming from a lawyer who already knew all the answers and she was just waiting for you to misstep. It was maddening because all my grade school friends would go and do something that they didn't tell their parents about and say 'Canine Blues Arooo, why don't you come with us?' and I would, knowing drat well the odds of me lying my way out of it were effectively zero because if my mother got even a slight hint that I might not be where I said I was, The Questioningô would begin. At the time, I despised it. I lived in a small town so news of where I was, or often times, where I wasn't, traveled fast and it was enough to get me caught almost every time.

As a result, I think I managed the successfully lie twice ever to my mother and get away with it. No doubt, I've tried a hundred times. It did however train me to be an exceptionally good liar to people I don't know and I can weave really elegant back stories with great detail (Because I had a lot of practice doing it)! So thanks mom, for training me to lie very effectively. It's a skill I've put to great use several times!


It really didn't dawn on me until much later in life that some parents aren't always looking out for their kids or are straight up assholes. Everyone I knew had parents who were always looking out for them. Sure, some of them were less than stellar as parents, but they did try. I feel really bad for the kids who have to combat their lovely parents and wish nothing more than for them to find themselves on the other side of it in one piece.

Canine Blues Arooo fucked around with this message at Aug 20, 2013 around 21:54

100 degrees Calcium
Jan 22, 2011

Holy poo poo you should see the post I just wrote but didn't submit. It was a huge list of complaints about my father, but fell way off-topic as it turned out to be more about my regrets in my relationship with him.

Ugh, just happened a second time. Okay, I'm staying on the script.

My father seems smothering, in a weird way. He constantly wants a relationship, but the relationship always needs to be on his terms. This means that any religious disagreements we harbor will always come up and will always necessitate investigation and argument. If I try to establish a boundary on this, he continues to pry and argue, until I establish a wider boundary, at which point he will complain and mope about being rejected and abandoned. But if I attempt to engage him on my own needs, he rejects them in favor of invasive and unsolicited character judgements that challenge not just my perception, but my ability to perceive. Or my right to feel any feeling that implies he is being disrespectful or invasive.

I harbor very low self-esteem; I regard everything I see and believe as being perpetually in doubt. I'm not saying he's necessarily the cause, I'm just saying it's a lot easier to not feel that way when I haven't communicated with him in a while.

Anything I wrote to him (or as it turns out, about him), I suffer a severe degree of doubt. Basically communicating with him involves playing a circular game of logic in which I try to anticipate as many of his unfavorable assumptions about me.

Being plain with him doesn't work. Being evasive with him doesn't work. Being aggressive with him certainly doesn't work.

In a way, I really feel like he's constructed a reality in which my inability to be like him will always create dissonance. He's accused me from a very young age, any time I didn't see things his way, that I was very good at deceiving myself. I've really taken that to heart. I'm constantly vigilant for the "real" reason I think or feel a certain way, and of course when I say "real" I actually mean "most damning and judgemental." Okay, I guess I am saying it is his fault. I'm just not very confidant about it because I might be lying to myself to justify an adolescence filled with resentment or an unwillingness to support his needs.

Despite the structure he adheres to, his constant reconstruction of reality makes him a somewhat chaotic element as well. Like me, my father has struggled with depression. As a child I never knew what would set him off, to the point where I've learned to preemptively apologize and assume blame for everything ever, both before it happens and retroactively. My biggest mistake in my adult life has been to ever try to seek relief from that feeling by going to him. Even my depression and my self-doubt are, in his eyes, caused by personal failure in my life. Like, he claims I don't deserve to feel this way, but then all he does is point out how I do it to myself. I know I do it to myself. That's the problem!

I feel a little bad posting this here. My dad's moods can be severe and emotional, but thankfully (unless you count bruises caused by plain spanking) he was never excessively violent. Just insulting, loud, and determined to erode my ability to trust myself in any situation where my outlook does not mirror his.


Nione posted:

BPD stuff
Well gently caress me. I try to avoid even thinking about how medical stuff I read on the internet might apply to me, but that entire list reads how I feel and act. I'm not going to make any assumptions, but I'm seeing my psychiatrist this afternoon so I think I'm going to risk the embarassment and share it with him. Thanks, I think.

100 degrees Calcium fucked around with this message at Aug 20, 2013 around 21:56

Jun 5, 2011

√¨¬ě¬¨√ę¬Į¬ł√¨¬ě¬ą√ę¬ä¬Ē √≠¬ē¬ú√™¬Ķ¬≠√¨¬Ė¬ī.

Oh, mother. How I hate you but still love you at the same time.

One of my first memories of my life, from around the time I was 2, was of my mother molesting me and whispering how disgusting I am. Just typing that made me feel a bit anxious. I can't remember everything that happened with regards to this yet, but the memories go on until I was about 11, which is when my father lost his job. My father was your typical enabling father. He just died though so I don't feel ready to talk about him yet. He wasn't half as bad as mother, and he did make sure I went to college and got away from it all so I'm just very thankful for that right now.

My abuse had this very interesting medical component. Starting from when I was 2, my mother found my personality so intolerable that she faked an autism diagnosis with me and had me put on an entire encyclopedia of antipsychotics, benzodiazipines, mood stabilizers, and antidepressants. a lot of doctors would disagree with her over the years, particularly because I AM NOT AUTISTIC and that was obvious to many people, sometimes immediately, sometimes after a couple years, but her reaction was always the same: make him out to be some evil person to me and change doctors until she found one she liked. I never felt like I could be honest in the doctor's office- partly because I would GET IT for embarrassing her/misrepresenting my symptoms ALL THE TIME- , and she would regularly take my sessions away from me or even embarrass me for saying the wrong thing in front of other people. My mother would never be honest with me about what was going on.

"Hey mom, what's this new medicine?"

I was taking a lot of "Ritalin." I can't remember taking anything besides Ritalin for my entire childhood. When I found my prescription stubs as an adult, it blew my mind. Perphenazine, Lithium, Risperdal, thioridazine, Seroquel, and more!

Mother loved to indirectly insult me with my asperger's diagnosis. She got so much mileage out of that drat diagnosis. I was socially awkward because I was autistic (actually, I was socially awkward because I was scared everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, would molest me if I was alone with them), I shouldn't talk about my interests because SINCE I HAVE ASPERGER'S I do it all wrong, I will never understand the world like mother because of the asperger's, etc. etc. etc. I didn't find out that I wasn't asperger's until I was 17 when a therapist put her foot down about it and brought up that she was positive I had been abused terribly growing up and that was what people were misdiagnosing.

It took me about 4 years after finding out it was a misdiagnosis before I'd stop telling myself "Mother was actually right, you are autistic" every time I messed up a social interaction.

There's nothing wrong with being autistic or having asperger's syndrome, don't get me wrong. The problem is just, I'm not. My mother used it as a symbol of how I was special, I was brilliant, and at the same time it was a symbol of all of my shortcomings as well. It was a very destructive label that made me give up on socializing and getting along with others until I was in college.

Writing about the asperger's thing has totally burnt me out, I think I'll stop there for now. I still get so frustrated thinking about it.

Fluorescent fucked around with this message at Aug 20, 2013 around 22:18

Jan 14, 2008

They weren't just hull numbers, they were our home addresses. Now the old neighborhood is torn down and gone and all that is left are memories.

Both my parents scored zeros. This thread inspired me to take them out to dinner tonight and catch up with them. Thanks thread.

100 degrees Calcium
Jan 22, 2011

Fluorescent posted:


This was terrifying to read because my mother diagnosed my sister with aspberger's at a very young age. It was basically an idea that my sister's swim teacher brought up, my mom did some independant reading, and decided yup, my sister is mildly autistic. Actually, I wonder if she would have reached that conclusion if she thought of it as autism.

Anyway, I pressed her about getting an actual professional diagnosis, and she says there's no point. Apparently there's no therapy or medicine that can help, so why bother. She then goes on to enable my sister's fear of even trying stuff like, oh, say learning to swim? Riding a bike, just about anything because (undiagnosed) aspberger's.

I don't mind if my mom doesn't want to randomly send my sister to a psychiatrist, because I personally haven't observed anything that I would identify as a mental illness. She seems fine to me. But if my mom is genuinely concerned that there is something going on there, she needs to see a doctor before trying to "treat" it, right?

Of course that doesn't even compare to your story. I'm really glad my mom (hopefully) didn't resort to medicating! Jesus Christ!

I haven't seen my sister in years, ever since she and my mom moved out of town. I'm absolutely terrified how she might have grown up. Last I heard from her, she was denying the big bang and writing fan-letters to Sarah Palin, but that's a different matter entirely.

Jun 3, 2006

Welcome to Trophy Island
Rub my tummy

Evil Sagan posted:

Well gently caress me. I try to avoid even thinking about how medical stuff I read on the internet might apply to me, but that entire list reads how I feel and act. I'm not going to make any assumptions, but I'm seeing my psychiatrist this afternoon so I think I'm going to risk the embarassment and share it with him. Thanks, I think.

You're welcome? Oh, and don't worry, I read that list and think that I have a lot of the symptoms as well. I started therapy because I honestly believed I was disordered like my Mom. My therapist helped me see that because I'd grown up with abuse, I was quick to judge myself more harshly than others and that I'm most definitely NOT BPD. In fact, one of the defining characteristics of the illness is an inability to believe or admit there's anything wrong with you. The fact that you are self aware enough to even recognize some of your problematic ways of dealing with things and see yourself in that list PROBABLY means you don't have BPD, which is extremely severe. You may have some borderline traits (or PTSD symptoms), especially since you grew up in an abusive environment (I do), but being able to recognize them and work on them is a very good thing.


My motherís mental illness most definitely has environmental causes; she is a product of her upbringing. She was raised in a family of 11 children in the 1950s. They lived on a farm in the middle of nowhere and her father was an alcoholic. My grandmother was 16 when she married my 26-year-old grandfather. She was in no way ready to be a parent, and I doubt she is even to this day. My motherís oldest brother sexually abused her when she was seven or eight years old. She told her mother, who didnít believe her, and then her and her two sisters were sent by their mom to live with their grandparents on the other side of the field. Mom was physically and verbally abused by her father, mother, and grandfather. Her oldest brother, the molester, fell in a grain silo, was seriously injured, and later committed suicide. When my mom turned 18 she decided to go to college, was told she was stupid and would never amount to anything, and left anyway. Somewhere in there she started developing symptoms of pregnancy. She was called a whore and almost kicked out of the ultra-conservative college until it was discovered she had a massive adrenal tumor that had to be removed. Since then sheís been on hormone replacement therapy and was told sheíd never be able to have kids. While at school she met my dad, they got married, and then she started losing babies. She had two miscarriages and a still birth before I was born when she was 30. When she was 31 her father died and her mother told her she never wanted to see her again. This is how I grew up separated from my grandmother and my motherís entire family (THANK gently caress).

I honestly believe my motherís BPD is a massive stew containing incest, sexual abuse, physical abuse, verbal abuse, psychological trauma, emotional neglect, massively hosed up hormones, and the deaths of her children. This explains it, but it doesnít excuse her behavior and refusal to accept treatment or assistance.

Mom has certain triggers. They werenít necessarily anything anyone said or did, but could be as simple as seeing a sign for something or seeing a certain person walking down the sidewalk. They would remind her of something she thought she was supposed to be angry or upset about and instead of feeling slightly miffed or stand-offish, she would instantly channel the most extreme form of that emotion.

For example, I remember one time I was really little, probably 6 or 7. We were walking down the street to the park and a van drove past with a sign on it for a maidís service. She went from chatting happily about how school had gone or whatever it was we were discussing, to snapping angrily that I thought she must be my ďgod-damned ni**erĒ since she spent all morning cleaning up a mess I had made in my room. I had said nothing or done nothing to upset her in the last half hour, it went straight from ďhappyĒ mom to ďextremely angry racistĒ mom. She then turned me around and marched me back home instead of going to the park. When I got old enough to stand up to her about the racist words, sheíd just shout, ďwell, itís true isnít it?!Ē until I finally gave up.

Another popular trigger was Holidays. My mom had this image of a perfect Norman Rockwell family dinner in her head. Unfortunately, she didnít have any family except for the three of us. Whether it was a matter of us not living up to her expectations or whether it was simply memories of her own childhood holidays, they were unanimously a bad time for everybody. I learned that Santa wasnít real because my mother got angry on Christmas Eve and got all of our presents out and threw them on the floor, telling us we were ungrateful and disrespectful and didnít deserve a Christmas. She made us sit down and open them all and then put them away in our rooms without playing with anything. Christmas morning, my dad snuck my brother and I out to my great-aunt's house so we could pretend that Santa went there, but I was old enough to realize the truth. On one Thanksgiving, my Dad decided that the three of us would prepare the meal so she didnít have to (more of the ďI am everybodyís slaveĒ business). We made an entire Thanksgiving dinner and she got so angry about it that she took the car and left and didnít come back until the next day. We all sat and ate cold food once we realized she wasnít returning.

Corn Thongs
Feb 13, 2004

Crazy moms club, extended to crazy parents! My mom got a nice score of 5 and the "oppressive" description fit my life so perfectly 5 years ago. I was so, so sad and my heart breaks for those of you who had it even worse.

Dec 26, 2005

Queen of Maceration

Xenocides posted:

Both my parents scored zeros. This thread inspired me to take them out to dinner tonight and catch up with them. Thanks thread.

Same here. My parents are great. This thread makes me so sad. I hope everyone posting here can find a way to deal with their parents in a constructive way and go on to live a happy life. You can do it!

Oct 3, 2007

It was so peaceful beneath the glittering stars.

Yeah, living with an untreated paranoid schizophrenic with a habit of murdering small animals while dad was on tour (he also lost custody due to my mom failing to report her illness) was ... unpleasant. Throw in the fact we lived in LA a good number of years (having a boarded up window because ours got shot out was fun) and I dunno. She refused to take her medication because the doctor was in league with the Buddhists. Somehow, she was able to purchase a shotgun and ended up in prison for robbing a store with it.

Dad's okay, but he's more of a depressive ambivalent who alternatively encourages and discourages me from doing things. A lot of his encouragement is just - really backhanded.

Oh, and mom's stolen my identity at least twice. She got dad's once, and left my sister's alone. My sister was her favorite, and she would routinely take my food and possessions to give to my sister. I also got punished when my sister wanted me to be. That was unpleasant, and a lot of times it's hard not to resent my younger sister. But I have to remind myself she was a dumb kid and mom is the horrible person.

Frankly, I'm just glad mom stopped trying to find me and hunt me down like she vowed she would. Sever'd.

Apr 6, 2010

Can I add my crazy grandparents? My grandfather was a veteran who came back from the war with a severe case of PTSD, my grandmother is a lying narcissist and they both decided it would be a grand idea to bring 7 children into this world, with my mom being the sweetest and most vulnerable one in the bunch. My dad took her away from there the day my grandparents tried to ground her for not choosing a wedding dress to their liking.

That said, my mom scores 0 points. She tries so hard and I love her so much. I'm going to cuddle the poo poo out of her, tomorrow!

I got diagnosed with BPD and PTSD in 2010. After spending months in therapy with several BPD-diagnosed women who all had kids, and knowing what my mom went through, I decided to never raise a child of my own. It just doesn't work out.

Aug 21, 2000

Someone bold, someone blue, someone borrowed, someone new...

Grimey Drawer

loving Aspergers. Oh, god.

I don't know if I can classify my Mom on the lists in the OP, but she has never been able to cope with stress, and has constantly searched for Reasons that things were not her fault.

I was a special ed kid-- shy, low tolerance for frustration, tended to act out. I was in special ed from preschool through high school, and half my childhood memories are of being bored and frustrated at meetings with therapists and counselors, because they kept going on about things I didn't understand, trying to find answers that didn't exist. I remember pissing one off because I kept saying 'I don't know' to his knockoff Rorschach-type test.

Back when Satanic Ritual Abuse was a going craze, she indulged in the related Suppressed Memory Syndrome. That went as quick as it came. Later she would accuse her father of molesting her. I know this is a horrible thing to say, but given everything else she's done over the years... I'm still not sure I can believe her.

When I was in my teens, Dad was on Prozac. Sister was too. Mom... I don't know what she was on, but she wasn't sharing. She did, however, want me to go on Prozac too. "Wouldn't it be nice to know there's something wrong with you?" she asked.

I was twenty. Still living at home, thanks to a lovely job market and worse real estate market. I found a few books titled things to the effect of 'Understanding Asperger's Syndrome'. This was several years before it became the new ADD, so she was ahead of the curve this time. Turns out that she had got in contact with a pediatric neurologist and snowed him into thinking I was a quarter to half my age, and he was awfully surprised when I answered the phone one afternoon.

She conned me into going to a family therapist with her and Dad, years later, after I had finally got over my resentment of the ones I was forced to deal with as a kid. One of the first things that came to light was that they'd loving neglected me as a very young Bie. Dad worked, Mom was a loving Avon lady, and some of my earliest memories are of being left to amuse myself in the rec room or back yard, or stuck in the car while she tried to convince herself she was friends with the near-strangers she was trying to sell poo poo to.

According to her, Dad only married her so that he'd have someone to take care of him. Given that he worked full time, cooked the lion's share of meals, and kept us and the house up as well as she did... I find that suspect. She told me this at loving random a year or two back, some half a decade after the therapist suggested that I wasn't being helped, and years after they'd stopped seeing her as well.

Fortunately for me, she lives a couple of hours away now. She stopped letting herself into the house on a variety of pretexts before then, but to this day I suffer anxiety attacks when I have to speak with her on the phone, or (god forbid) deal with her in person.

That's the worst part, dealing with her face to face: because she's convinced that she isn't responsible for one iota of what's happened over the last several decades, because she is incapable of showing compassion beyond its weakest, most trite expressions, because she thinks everything is neat and buried...

because whatever loving reasons she's latched onto this week.

Jul 23, 2004

I have probably posted enough about my parents in various threads, but you know, for me... It's so, so, so hard because I really do love my biological mother and father a *great* deal in their own respective ways, and while they both have their shortcomings, both suffer from clinical depression and various other assorted personality disorders.. But it's so difficult. My father especially is like... Him and I are so scarily similar in so many ways, in terms of the way we think and talk and perceive the world and react to stress, and we have a pretty special relationship. We both speak the same language and communicate the same and can have long, interesting esoteric conversations together that nobody else can follow. I just wish I'd gotten to spend more time with him.

The real problem for me is my step-parents, and always has been, as I detailed in the other thread. I don't even have the strength to write about it right now - too difficult. I did want to talk about my step-mother though - who is the woman my dad had been cheating on my mother with when they divorced when I was five. So, then this woman became my step-mother, and against all logic she would just be FURIOUS that me and my brother didn't treat her the same way as our real mother. She just deeply, deeply, resented it which caused her to be constantly psychologically abusive and just awful to me in particular, because unlike my brother I was already expressing all the symptoms of childhood PTSD by age 6 or 7 and since nobody figured it out, I was just labeled as troubled and problematic "bad" child with anger issues who ultimately got punished all the time for my behavior, and boy did my step mother love to punish me!

But the truly hosed up thing is that she married my dad when I was like 6 and spent the next 7 years deeply resenting me and criticizing me almost daily in one way or another because I didn't "respect and love her like a real parent". But when I was 13 she got pregnant and had her own kid, which was good and bad. There were huge ramifications to this in our family but the point I want to make, and what truly upset me beyond comprehension, was that my step-mother OBVIOUSLY loved this child a thousand times more than me or my brother, and once she was born, I didn't exist anymore as far as she was concerned and she immediately stopped being my parent for... Uh... Ever. And even though she WASNT my real mother and I never could love her like that, she was still my parent, and still important to me, and she had still made innumerable promises that were all broken once she got her own kid.

But it's the fact that she refuses to acknowledge the hypocrisy inherent in this, or admit that she did anything wrong whatsoever. She does nor see how unbelievable it is that she spent years berating and shaming me for not treating like my real mom and dad, and then the moment she has her own biological child she not only treats her COMPLETELY differently than me or my brother and devoted her entire life and existence to her well-being... she literally stopped being my parent - full stop - including passive aggresively kicking me out of their house and forcing me to live with my mother full-time, which destroyed my relationship with my father in so many ways... And I detailed what happened with my mother and her partner in the last thread... *sigh*

I think my most enduring memory of childhood is how I remember being 9, 10, 11 years old and I would cry a lot because I was sad... I don't remember the specifics I just remember that I would often go to the basement and just cry, and I would always be half-doing it for attention, because I desperately wanted my mom or dad to come down and hug me and hold me and tell me everything is going to be ok. Which they never did of course.. On the rare occasions they noticed me my mom would get angry like I was purposely trying to make her feel bad, and my dad would intellectualize it and try and figure out what was wrong with me. Nobody realized that I was desperately alone and starved for affection and reassurance ...

And you know, that's still something I need, like, in any relationship... It's way more important, than, say, sex for me. Talking about just physical affection and reassurance. The times in my life I've felt truly at peace are when I'm being held by a man I love and trust and told that everything is going to be okay. Only works with guys, preferably big/tall masculine ones who are kind and sensitive but I guess I'm queer as a three-dollar-bill so that makes sense I just... I stopped ever getting that from my parents after the divorce, and part of it was that due to sexual abuse I got very paranoid and hypervigilant about anyone even approaching me physically so.. I dunno maybe it was my fault not theirs..

Anyway, that was a nice venting session

Apr 13, 2007

Wham bam, thank you ma'am!

Where do I start?

My father is a sober alcoholic who never cared very much about his children. He was, at least, a happy drunk. One year at Christmas, he fell asleep in a chair with a cigarette and burned out the living room, the Christmas tree, and all the presents. We were extremely poor growing up. There were five of us, four girls, one boy. My mother only wanted the boy.

My mother. She is... a monster. I am an adult abused child. All of us girls are. I am the youngest of five. When I was 4, and my brother was 9, and next oldest sister was 14, we had our second house fire. My mother herded us kids into a back bedroom, locked the door, and went across the street to call the fire department. All of us kids were rescued but to this day I have to wonder if she wanted us to die in that fire? I have no idea.

When I started Kindergarten, she stopped taking care of me, instead my brother had to do it. He was my only parent, my best friend, he was everything to me. She would beat me with a pink plastic Avon hairbrush for no reason (important later in my story).

When I turned 17, my brother, then 22, committed suicide. My parents emancipated me (my mother's idea). Homeless, I moved in with a roommate, a gay man 8 years older than me. I lived with him three years - he became 'My Gay Daddy' - he led me down the path of a college education, taught me a work ethic, and showed me that a parent can be empathetic and loving. I don't know what would have happened to me without him. Where my biological family failed me, he became my 'logical' family.

At age 38, I brought my toddler daughter and husband over to visit my (now elderly) parents. In the bathroom, I found the pink plastic Avon hairbrush, and I stole it. Later that visit, she screamed at my daughter and made her cry. I cut ties that day and haven't spoken to them since. My mother is a monster, she is severely mentally ill and needs professional help. I can't fix her. I don't miss her.

I smashed the Avon hairbrush with a hammer in my driveway. That's the end of my story.

My heart honestly hurts for abused kids, it isn't supposed to be that way. Parents are supposed to love and protect their children. I'm a parent now and I am not perfect, but I try hard every day to do right by my girl. Good parenting doesn't deserve a metal, it's should be the loving norm. Abused kids are cheated, in the worst way.

Mar 3, 2012

Crazy parents? Oh Lord. Where to begin?

My mom's way of thinking is one I'll never really comprehend. I know it stems from having a messed up childhood (father raped her and her sisters, her mother abandoned them), but after a while, I think taking some personal responsibility would be nice.

She was a very devoted and loving mother when we were little. At the age of 14, however, I was suicidal and a wreck. I have systemic lupus and epilepsy and my health was awful, so I was very depressed. After I got out of the psych ward for a 10 day stay and entered out-patient therapy, her attitude toward me changed. She told me that I was suicidal to punish her, but she wouldn't stand for it.

I remember she found out that I was cutting a few weeks later. At first, she cried and said she'd get me help, then turned around and said I was, once again, attempting to punish her. I distinctly remember being in the car with her on the way to therapy, and he saying that if I was really suicidal then she'd drive us both into a tree and kill us. I guess it was her way of scaring me into wanting to live? She also told me that if I was going to kill myself, then to go ahead and do it: she had my sisters she had to take care of. In therapy, if she joined a session she turned the focus entirely onto her and how she's a victim. If the therapist started to point out how her behavior was wrong, she'd refuse to continue the session. Or, she wouldn't bring me to that therapist anymore. One therapist I was seeing, after a session with my mom, told me that he honestly saw my mom as the type of woman who would stab you in your back in your sleep.

We were never really the same after that. She and my dad were at each other's throats constantly. He was mentally and verbally abusive toward me. I was struggling with my weight, and he was vicious about picking on me for it. When my mom tried to defend me and yelled at him for it, he got an inch away from my face and told me that if they divorced, it would be my fault.

I came out to my family about being bi when I was in high school. My mom kicked me out for a few days, then let me come back home, but I wasn't allowed to date girls. Bisexuals were greedy whores and abominations. You were gay or straight, but there was no in-between. So, seeing as how I found girls to be more attractive than men at that time, I decided that I must be gay. I got kicked out briefly, again. Being a religious nut, she hung a crucifix in my room, put one in my underwear drawer, and changed the background of my computer to a cross (I should mention that I renounced Christianity at this point). She'd force me to go to church and more than once tried to trick me into accepting God again. It was bizarre.

When I mentioned that my best-friend and I (a gay man) shared a bed whenever we had sleep-overs (which she already knew), she called me a whore and slut and kicked me out of the house. That time, I refused to go back. She showed up at my apartment and took back my health-insurance card. Seeing as how it was under my father's name, I called him and he demanded she bring it back. She did, then drove off, saying I would't last a month on my own. We didn't speak for several months, and when we did, it was when she called me up and apologized while sobbing. We tried to mend things and move on, but I refused to move back home.

She and my parents divorced. My dad moved out the day of my youngest sister's prom, not bothering to stick around to see her in her dress, and moved in with a woman he dated in high school. They hadn't even met beforehand to catch up and he moved in with her. My family was devastated. I was glad the divorce finally happened, but was amazed he went about it like he did.

My mom told my sisters and I to be cruel to his new girlfriend when she emailed us, trying to get to know us. I'm ashamed to say that I was. It wasn't her fault. I was just livid that my dad left the way he did. He never made any attempt to speak to me unless his girlfriend prompted him to. It was like he completely forgot he had children. When he finally came to visit me, all he did was talk about her. He didn't bother asking about my life at all.

My mom blew all of her money on frivolous crap. An iPod Touch, expensive uniforms for roleplay with her new boyfriend, trips to Cape May for a week or two, etc. When my sisters and I tried to talk to her about possibly being a bit more responsible with her money (she has a TON of debt), she'd get furious and tell her that she earned the luxury she was getting and we had no right to tell her what to do. Then she spent all of her money and bitched about not being able to afford the heating bill or food.

Eventually, things with my dad and his girlfriend didn't work out. He tried to move back in with my mom with the offer to care for my grandma (who lives with my mom). Of course, my mom said 'no'. He found a place of his own and started to reach out to my sisters and I. My sisters ignored him. I gave him another chance, and we wound up having a really good relationship.

He began dated a nice woman and my mom began dating a train-wreck. He was abusive, manipulative, and just awful. My relationship with her deteriorated the more my relationship with my dad improved. She saw it as a betrayal. Two months before my wedding, I called my mom to let her know when the date was (figured it out last minute as my husband was deployed at the time, so making definitive dates for anything is hard). She ignored me for two days. I left her a voicemail saying I was hurt by that, and she called me back and went on a rant about how she and her boyfriend were on a date (for two days?), and I was ungrateful and she wouldn't stand for my abuse anymore. She wouldn't come to my wedding, to go gently caress myself, and then hung up.

My dad took me wedding dress shopping a few days later. He bought my gown, then we went to a movie for father's day, and he promised he'd try his best to walk me down the aisle (we lived in PA, but the wedding would be in AZ, where my husband is from). That was the last time I saw him. A week of no returned phone calls, and I broke the silence with my mom to ask her for his address. I had only been there once or twice and couldn't remember how to get there. After a lot of bitter, angry rants on her part, she finally gave it to me.

I sent the police to his house to do a wellness check, and they found him dead. He'd had a heart-attack and had died two days prior.

I called my mom, and she wouldn't pick up. I texted her, telling her that dad had died, and received no answer. I called my sisters, but was only able to get ahold of one. She spoke to my mom, and I asked her if she would call me back. My mom said 'no'. She wanted nothing to do with me. She did, however, call my youngest sister. My youngest sister was having substance abuse problems at the time, and she told her, "your dad died. He OD'd and died alone, just like you will." So, of course, my sister was a complete wreck. Also, my dad didn't do anything more than smoke pot occasionally, so I guess the "he OD'd" thing was another scare-tactic?

The next day, after seeing his body at the morgue, my youngest sister tried to call my mom to get her tax information (my mom threw her out of the house, but her belongings were still there). I don't know what my mom said to her, but my sister was nearly having a panic attack. I took the phone from her and tried to remain calm. I told her that we simply needed the tax info and then we'd be gone. She screamed at me that I was ugly, had no soul, and that if I set foot on her boyfriend's property that she'd call the police. I told her to go ahead and call them. It might even be better that way. Then she dropped the bomb that my dad was dead because of me; that if I had called the police or checked on him sooner, he'd still be alive. That I was disgusting, and she didn't know how I could look at myself in the mirror. That I didn't deserve my husband. To drop dead.

I don't remember much of the days after that. We didn't speak for six months. Somehow, my sister and my mom repaired their relationship. At some point, my mom reached out to me. I didn't want her in my life again, but after losing my dad, I was afraid of losing her, too. She apologized and said she was grieving and didn't mean any of it. I took that with a grain of salt.

Her boyfriend committed suicide 10 months ago. She's always going from one job to another, never holding one down for more than a few months at a time. Her health is terrible. She's obsessed with re-connecting with her biological family, even though they're all mentally unstable. She still mocks my deceased father. She'll admit to kicking me out now (back then I "moved out"), but says she did me a favor because it made me an adult. She considers herself 'Mother Of The Year', and if you say anything against that, she'll dredge up something you did YEARS ago that hurt her feelings, and turn herself into the victim.

I have a son now, and live with my husband in AZ. She's still in PA. She's met my son once, but I never leave him alone with her. I'll be visiting her again next month with him, but still won't leave him with her at any point. Our relationship is okay, so long as we aren't around each other for two long. It'll never be what it was when I was little, and she was my best-friend. I forgive her for what she's said about my dad and everything else, but I can't ever forget it. It amazes me that she can look at her behavior and honestly see nothing wrong with it.

CravingSolace fucked around with this message at Aug 21, 2013 around 05:37

Oct 23, 2012

Don't judge me.

This seems like a handy thread.

I've been raised by a single working mother, and while my case isn't as extreme or hosed up as some of the others, it still left me as a bit of a mess while growing up. My mom doesn't really think the various descriptions in the OP. In fact, I think it's missing one major type in Distant to the point of being neglectful. Which I might add is a loving doozy when combined with smothering.

My parents divorced when I was very young, and I've always lived with my mother. She's a pretty average white collar worker with a decent middle management job, but her career hasn't really advanced in any way for two decades. While we were never really poor, money wasn't plentiful either and my mom was at work most of the day. Despite this my early childhood was pretty ok, I just spent a lot of time after school playing at friends places, etc.

poo poo didn't really hit the fan until I hit my teens, and started having issues with school. I was the small nerdy kid, and got bullied a lot for years. The few friends I had got bullied even worse, until they were forced to switch schools. My mom however reacted with being completely passive about it. She never actively contacted the school about it, and I can't even remember ever talking about it with her. In fact, I only recently heard from my grandmother that apparently my mom thought it was the schools problem, and that they should take care of the bullies, rather than moving me to a different school.

The bullying combined with being a bit ADHD, I didn't really like school all that much despite being the "smart" kid, and my grades were always average at best. On a grading system 4-10, I was strictly a 7-8 student. This was a problem, because my mom was at the time convinced that I was the Smartest Kid Ever, and grades of 7 or below were terrifying to bring home. They would always end up in me getting shouted at, because "I can do better than that."

I started skipping school a lot too, which didn't really affect my scores, but my mom reacted in a pretty extreme way. Multiple times I've been shouted at how I'm "RUINING HER LIFE" and somehow avoiding school to personally make her life difficult. She also started to paranoidly look for any signs of me not going to school, which in turn made the teenage me to get increasingly sneaky about it. This lead to massive explosions of rage from her whenever she thought she had caught me skipping ("YOUR SHOES AREN'T WET ENOUGH, IT WAS RAINING THE WHOLE DAY, SO YOU OBVIOUSLY DIDN'T GO TO SCHOOL.") The tone of the rants got increasingly weird too, since after a while she acted like her catching me skipping was like her winning. She flat out started going on how much smarter than me she was, and repeatedly telling me I could never do anything without her finding out.

When high school started things got bad. About when I hit 16 two things happened. A) She started treating me like an adult. B) She started drinking heavily.

Too bad A was done in the shittiest way possible. Instead of teaching me how to do things like an adult, she promptly stopped supporting me in any way because I was now "old enough" to do it on my own. What this basically meant in practice was that I find that the cellphone plan I was on is closed. All the magazines I had at that time had their subscriptions cancelled and so on. It's pretty normal to start taking care of things like this yourself, but not like how it happened for me.

What my mom did, was to completely unannounced stop paying the bills without telling me about it. In fact when I asked her about the phone thing, she actually told me for a few months that she had no idea and I should call the phone company myself. With enough prodding, what I find out she didn't even cancel the stuff, she just stopped paying the bills. This lead to dept collecting bills mailed to both of us, since some of the poo poo was in my name. And it wasn't money trouble either, in fact as soon as she did this she started spending more money on other things (mainly alcohol, but also some other stuff like new eletronics, etc.)

So all of a sudden I had to figure out -how- you actually pay bills. Like the actual act of doing the paperwork etc. So naturally, I asked from the closest adult-like person, my mom. The end result was one of the worst shouting and yelling I've ever been subjected to. "YOU'RE OLD ENOUGH TO KNOW THIS. ARE YOU loving STUPID. DO I HAVE TO DO EVERYTHING" etc etc. This was pretty hosed up because how the hell was I supposed to learn basic poo poo like this, when I had to go from never-doing to doing-everything-alone. Thank gently caress for internet, I basically had to google my way through my late teens like this, for pretty much everything people must take for granted. Like absurdly mundane things. Asking how our washing machine works led to a verbal fight and googling basic instructions. Because my mom was somehow unwilling to basically say something as simple as "Half a cork of detergent, open the water valve and set the dial to A, push start." Now imagine this, but take any basic life skill you were probably at least shown how to do once or twice by an older person.

Simple stuff, but pretty terrifying when you suddenly have to do all of this self-taught, while being verbally abused for it. This has also led to a whole bunch of fun self esteem and depression issues. I feel like I'm good for nothing, will never amount to nothing, and I'm horrified of trying most new things openly, because I feel like I will be berated for every trying. I keep having repeated issues with depression and I've dropped out from my latest attempt at school. I can't even make normal friends, because I feel like everyone is always judging me somehow, even if they're not aware. So I'm very withdrawn and focused on trying to keep a good but neutral outward image.

All of this poo poo was combined with her alcoholism. My mom would at the very least drink 6-8 cans of beer daily, and time it perfectly in the evening so that when I was going to sleep, she should stay up wailing drunkedly to 2-3 AM, smashing doors, breaking glasses etc and generally being loving loud about it. I wish she would have had the decency to get drunk at a bar or some poo poo, but it was always at home. Trying to talk to her about it was (and still is) pointless, she'll just get mad and tell me to keep out of her life.

She also lost all interest and ability to clean or look after the apartment unless forced by a visitor or something. She stopped doing dishes herself, she only vacuums if forced to, her computer desk/drinking station is covered in beerstains and cigarette ash. She started effectively hoarding empty beer cans because she's too lazy not to recycle them. The only thing keeping her parts of the apartment from being a complete shithole is the occasional visiting relative, repairman scheduled by the apartment owners, or whatever, forcing her to clean to keep a decent image to the outside world.

The worst part for me right now, is that I still live with her while being in my mid 20's. Our living arrangement right now is that I basically have a really lovely roommate (she now demands I pay half the rent) that I no longer talk to unless I really have to, beyond basic small talk. I really want to move out and find an apartment of my own, but the current economy is making it difficult. I yet again struggle with not having anyone to really talk about the logistics of moving, the legal side of renting or loans etc, let alone having any sort of reliable backup monetarily if things go sour.

sheehs, that... got longer than I figured

Attestant fucked around with this message at Aug 21, 2013 around 08:44

Jul 4, 2003

Well... when I said that I had a plan, I meant that I have to plan... the plan.

I haven't spoken to my mother in a few years now. The final straw was when I tried to get her to meet me in a neutral place, without my step-father when I went to visit my hometown and she brought him with her. It was just this utter disrespect of my wishes and after that I found myself slowly distancing myself until I just gave in and cut off contact a few months later.

It's kind of weird how much you just accept as a child when it's all you're used to. As a kid I saw my step-father as this horrible, violent, angry person and my mother as the "safe" person. As a kid, it doesn't occur to you that a safe person who protects you wouldn't put you in that situation. I also didn't see the violence as abuse because my understanding of abuse at that time was that it was when an adult hurt a kid and it left a mark for days afterwards. I'm not sure where I got that definition from, but it was enough to convince me that him choking, throwing against walls, threatening with a knife was not enough to report to a teacher or the police because hey, no marks. I understood it was more extreme than normal, but figured I must be a really bad kid. As for the verbal abuse? I guess I assumed that was normal, or at least not punishable.

The times my mother hit me, or said awful things to me, or confided in me about things that were totally inappropriate I sort of wrote off as normal too. When I hit 16 and my step-father's violence died down in favour of him making creepy comments and going through my underwear drawer, I started to realise that this was not normal or okay at all, but saw my mother as way too fragile to tell her or anyone else about it. My step-father had had an (emotional?) affair with a 15 (I think?) year old when I was about 10 and it had really torn her apart, I felt like I had to protect her from him acting this way.

It wasn't until I left home and saw how normal families interacted through my university friends that I started to realise how messed upthings actually were, and when I talked to my current partner about things I realised how much of a role my mother played in it too. That a parent who kicks you in the stomach while you're lying on the floor because you retorted to an insult her husband gave you isn't just the good guy being defensive. That it's not normal for a parent to scream at you when you didn't do a chore whilst visiting, because you didn't know it was expected of you. That however much someone disliked their ex-husband, joking about his death at his funeral in front of his child is not something a good person does.

durpadurp posted:

Life after Severing

. . .is wonderful and awful at the same time, but it gets better. You'll go through the different stages of loss and grief, but ultimately you'll feel like you've been set free. Some crazy parents may try to pull you back in with the same old tricks, but there are ways to overcome this too:

Write a letter to them, keep it, and reread it anytime you miss them.
Accept that they won't change.
Allow yourself to "grieve the dream" of a perfect childhood/family.
Remember, this is your decision - it's what's best for you.
You can reopen contact anytime you want to suffer again.
Don't respond to their mail.
Don't answer their calls.

As a goon once put it, "You'll be surprised at how little it bothers you." I used to miss my parents, but now I fill my time with happy activities instead of worrying about them. The trauma isn't gone, but at least the crazy parents aren't there to keep reopening old wounds.

I really like that bolded point, it's a great way of phrasing it. I think my main concerns these days are practical. I'll have a baby one day and what if she tries to make contact if she hears about it through extended family members? How will I get married whilst worrying about the risk of uninvited guests? I don't miss the relationship because of the harm it caused and whilst my half-brother always had an easier time of things (no violence or anything targetted at him that I can remember), what little I see of his relationship with his parents is not positive.

Jul 23, 2004

It's always so, so, so hard to tell.. My mother, she enabled my drug abuse/substance abuse for years. There were ALL the times I stole her oxycodone prescription, over and over again, from when I was age 16 onwards. All the lorazepam I stole from her. We are talking hundreds and hundreds of pills over years, She ultimately gave me thousands and thousands of dollars to spend on drugs, and even though I was lying about what I was spending the money on and she was lying about what she was giving me the money for, we both knew. And eventually there weren't even the lies.

And I hate her for that so, so, much and love her for that so, so much. Because a part of me NEEDED those drugs, and I didn't... I was coping with my problems the only way I could, and my mother was coping with her problems the only way she could. I'm just glad we broke the cycle.

May 22, 2007


I'll admit my mother problems are far less worse than most of this thread's, but her issues are particularly aggravating because they're really not her fault. She had an aneurysm when I was 10 years old and the resulting surgery caused a lot of changes, most noticeably a really bad short term memory loss. So when I want to get mad at my mother for being flaky and neurotic and forgetful I feel bad.

Probably the most annoying part of her personality is her tendency to remember things the way she wants to remember them, more often than not in ways that make me look like an rear end. Her favorite story is I guess one time she asked if there was anything in particular I wanted to inherit when she died, and I probably said "naw, I don't have any particular attachment to anything." Apparently over time it morphed into me putting my hands on my hips and saying in a really bitchy way "I don't want ANY of your junk" and good lord does she like to trot that story out often.

The most exasperating example was a recent spat she had with my husband, during lunch. I had set out a bunch of lunch meat in bags and stuff and told her to help herself. My husband was making his sandwich when he turned around and found my mother has taken all the bacon off of his sandwich and was taking the lunch meat off to put on her sandwich, because she had gotten confused or something. He yelled at her, and later the story became she just wanted a piece of bacon and my husband was rude to cook bacon and not offer her anything - not her being rude and picking through someone else's sandwich without asking.

Altogether it seems kind of petty, but add it up again and again over time... my mother is pretty tiring to deal with. None of it is sever worthy but life certainly became a lot easier when I moved two hours away and had to deal with her less.

Tubba Blubba
Jul 14, 2011

I'll chalk another one up for the crazy father's club.

My father is unpredictable at best. At one moment he is your best friend, laughing and joking with you at the table, but if you say or do something he feels is "wrong", then that is all over.
I should say that "wrong" for my dad boils down to not living one's life the way he would live it. I recently became a Buddhist, and my father is offended that I have "abandoned" my Catholic heritage. He has gone so far as to insult my reasoning skills, and claims that this is "just a phase". On the subject of reasoning and skills in general, nothing one does for this man is satisfactory. For example, I refuse to perform certain tasks because of my father's perfectionism; I will not mow the grass, for example, because I do not perform it to his satisfaction. It does not matter how long or meticulously I mow it, he will always berate me and redo the job himself. Usually "refusing to perform" involves doing these tasks when he is not home or distracted by something else, but lately I'm so tired of all of it. I return to my university soon, and I almost wish I hadn't returned home.

This berating is never just about one issue; every single "failing" is thrown at me simultaneously. From my choices in sexual partners to my clothes, everything I have recently done that he disapproves of is tossed at me. I do know how to counter this; I must be aggressive and ask him how he thinks I can remedy issues occurring in the past. This is usually enough to stop the behavior, but he usually stomps off to the garage muttering about "being the bad guy all the time".

On that note, he has a major persecution complex. If anyone engages his bullshit directly, then he is "being attacked". It does not matter how awful he was being to others, he feels as though he has been treated unfairly, and no one is listening to him. Never mind that he is notorious for not listening to others, and that he seems to believe "listening" involves passively accepting his nonsense. I'm twenty years old; I don't have the patience to accept that garbage anymore.

What is the worst about all of this is how few people outside my home believe me; one ex-girlfriend told me I was "making it all up", and that my father "appears to be a nice guy". Of course he does; he is obsessed with appearances; anything that reflects poorly on him in his mind must be corrected. We live in a small town, and people talk in small towns, so some of it is understandable. But berating my brother for getting a tattoo yesterday (after it had been on his skin for 7 hours) is going too far. According to him, all of this "reflects upon him". I should note that neither of us have gone to jail or done anything legally or morally wrong in our lives; how he figures we are reflecting poorly on him is a mystery.

I realize that is a lot of words about a man who have never tried to harm me physically, but I'm tired of it all, and so is everyone else in my household. My mother has strongly considered leaving him after my brother and I leave university, and I don't blame her.

100 degrees Calcium
Jan 22, 2011

My father doesn't really dwell on reputation in a serious way, but otherwise you've described my father better than I did, Tubba Blubba.

That "just a phase" poo poo is the worst, especially as you get older. Maybe it will be different for you, but at 25 my dad is still determined to remind me I'll eventually outgrow <thing in my life that stands at odds with his own beliefs or desires>, as if my capacity to change my mind as I learn new things is a reason to deny me agency in my decisions and beliefs.

I'm glad to see being forward with your father is working for you. My dad, despite claiming a desire for frank and honest discussion, takes even the hint of criticism as a function of a campaign to destroy him and I find that not engaging him at all is preferable. Sometimes I'll get an e-mail where he complains that he "doesn't deserve to be treated like a Homer Simpson." God, I wish he were that oafish and lovable.

E: Oh, and to add some genuine crazy to the mix... my father tried to exorcise my brother when he found out my brother meditates. Still beats physical abuse, but drat. Exorcism, man.

Nov 25, 2004


clammy fucked around with this message at Sep 22, 2013 around 20:06

Kilo India
Mar 12, 2006

E/N Success Story

I like this thread. I've probably spoken more in E/N about my crazy mom than I have in real life about my crazy mom, but I don't think I've ever told the entire story.

My mom moved to the big city from a small farming community when she was 17, to attend college. She promptly dropped out of college and became a heroin addict and bar girl. Here, a bar girl is actually a sex worker. My mom eventually became pregnant with me through a fling with my father, who was a cocaine dealer at the time. My father ended up going to prison, and she ended up in a domestic living situation with my stepfather who was a bar patron many years her senior.

My stepfather was very good to me, but he was a cold and distant man, which meant I really had no actual guidance growing up. My mother wrapped her pride up in me at an early age, basking in compliments about how beautiful or intelligent I was, etc; the ordinary things people tell you about your child because it's not like they can go "oh my, that's a moderate child you have." At the same time, she mostly treated me as a pet.

At an early age, I started distrusting my mom. She was not young when she had me--about 28--but it's like she just never grew up. She would "play games" when I was 3/4 telling me she wasn't my mother. She'd leave me in graveyards and follow me just to watch me panic as it grew dark. She would ask me "Why are you following me, little girl? Who are you? I'm not your mom..." and she would literally keep this up for days, going "Can't you go home yet? Where is your home?" or "You can't stay here any longer" until I would start crying. She would shoot up with heroin and chase me around with the needle, which gave me a lifetime fear of shots, and so forth.

Anyway when I was 4 or 5 my dad filed for custody, as he had just gotten out of prison. My mom was such a wreck he actually got custody. He was living with two crackheads at the time. My mom was happy about it at the time, because she had a new boyfriend who was also a dealer. She told me I was going to be "making easter eggs" with the couple and then just left me with them. My dad was in and out of the house, and then after like two months max he ended up back in prison. But for some reason, CPS never removed me.

This means that I was in custody of two literal crack heads. The man was so bad he peeled off all the skin on his hands and forearms because he believed he had worms. The crackheads offered my mom money to keep me, and she let them. They molested me and let other people do things to me that I really don't even want to think about. They literally treated me like I was a cat. The woman had like 16 cats and they would feed me at the same time as them. The cats didn't have a litter box; they just went on the floor.

The weird thing was the crackhead man's parents were really rich. So they had a $2 million home in the most expensive area here. It was completely unfurnished, with cat urine and feces everywhere. They made me pick up after the cats. I never had meals, just a bag of chips thrown my way. I almost forgot to talk during this time.

My mom suddenly appeared in my life when I was around 6 and took me back. At the time, I didn't even recognize her. I found out later she only took me back because her dealer boyfriend had broken up with her and because my stepfather wouldn't accept her back until she found out what happened to me.

My life was surreal after this point. I couldn't deal with people, or really anything. I think I might have thought I was a cat. I know that sounds funny, but my brain was really broken in ways that made it impossible for me to deal with as a child. But at the same time, my mom didn't want to acknowledge this.

She continued to treat me like an ordinary child: getting angry if I didn't do well in school, etc. She only took me to school maybe one in three days, telling them that I was a problem child who would throw tantrums to avoid class; in fact, she couldn't wake up to get me to school so she just didn't take me. I fell behind and couldn't make friends.

My mom would consistently make fun of me if I did get friends. If I had a male friend, she'd say something like "what are you doing with that fat guy?" She would constantly read sexual things into things even though I was only like 7-10 years old, which made me extremely uncomfortable about sex. I felt ashamed if I even thought about romantic things, and never ended up having school crushes or school boyfriends. From when I was 7-9 she would give me sexual content to read like Clan of the Cavebear, but then she would tell me things like "you seem to be reading that a lot," or "what parts are you reading more? I bet I know," etc.

My mom would sexualize me to a weird extent, like putting me in modelling classes and encouraging me to dress "less wholesome," but at the same time she would shame me. I remember telling her once I was having problems at work, when I was 16, because this 40 year old guy kept coming on to me. She told me "well you're dressed like you want it." I was wearing clothes she bought for me.

From when I was 14 on my mom made me drop out of school to work so that I could make money to pay for her habit. Well that's not entirely true, I also dropped out of school because my (diagnosed) social anxiety disorder made it impossible to deal with anymore. She never believed that I had a disorder, and would instead regularly accuse me of being "on drugs" even though she never let me leave my home. From when I was 13-14 I was literally kept in a room with NO human interaction besides a computer. She called this "homeschooling" and it messed me up for life.

Oh, I also lived alone for half a year when I was 12 because she went to prison for revocation of parole and didn't tell anyone I was there. Oddly, my school attendance went UP that year.

Anyway when I hit 17 things reached a breaking point. At this time she had completely run out of money. My stepfather cut her off when I was 14 but my dad got out of prison then, but then my dad got sent back to prison when I was 17 and my mom started relying on me as the "man in her life" even though I was her daughter. My mom could never do ANYTHING herself. If her car broke down, she called her man. If she needed groceries, she called her man. If she needed the house cleaned, she called her man. I became this person.

My mom would not EAT FOOD unless I cooked it, plated it and put it directly in front of her.

Anyway after she ended up destitute she took my entire paycheck every time and spent it on drugs. Our rent went unpaid. We went without food. She would wake me up at 4AM before I had to go to work screaming that I didn't love her, that I was hiding money from her, that I obviously just wanted her to loving die because she was going to loving die right now she'd die without the drugs where is the money!? I ended up in a poverty cycle because she would accrue so many NSF charges on my account that once my paycheck hit it would be nothing.

At the same time, she did ridiculous poo poo like running up a $2000 cellphone charge on my phone.

My stepfather had a $30,000 college fund for me which she cashed out and blew on heroin. My mom said that my stepfather "cut us off" (not true; my mom chose my dad) and that she had to do this. I later found out my stepfather had given her a further $45,000 THAT YEAR because she had told him I NEEDED it.

My mother NEVER held a regular job and she refused to do so. She got her license taken away simply because she got a single ticket she didn't want to pay, which led to her not being able to renew her license, which led to 15 moving violations, which led to her getting a bench warrant. She STILL doesn't have a license, 10 years later. She can't get a photo ID because of the bench warrant, which has led to her not being able to do anything: travel, get a job, ANYTHING.

Once I moved out, my mom convinced our landlord that she had a heart defect that made it so she couldn't work. She told the landlord, this really nice Christian woman, that I had abandoned her because I didn't want to be with a "defective mom," and that she had no way of surviving. Since then, SEVEN YEARS AGO, this landlord has let her stay rent free on their property. My mom still doesn't have a job and has no interest in getting a job.

I used to send my mom money every once in a while, but E/N got me to cut that poo poo out. I talk to her every once in a while, and things are fine. She says clever things, and she's funny, and she's smart, and she's the mother I wished she could be. But then I start talking to her more in-detail and I get this haunting feeling that she's actually some sort of alien in disguise. I used to have nightmares of her peeling back her skin and revealing snake skin underneath, that's how bad it was.

My mom left me at least $30,000 in debt on total by the time I severed ties with her for the first time, completely. That was when I was 21. It was a lovely way to start adulthood.

I really don't understand her, but I realized that I don't have to. I'm too good of a person to understand her. I tolerate her, but I also acknowledge that all it does is bring me more frustration and pain. She complains about how her landlord is always around, and I ask her why she hasn't gotten a job yet instead of living off her landlord, and she just hems and haws. She still writes to my stepfather asking for money sometimes.

I stopped seeing her on birthdays because she would just drive me crazy. Birthdays or new years, at first it would start pleasant but then she'd start going on about "You know, if I'd just stayed with your stepfather you would have been able to go and be a doctor like you'd dreamed of..." "By the time I was your age, I owned my own bar..." "You know, you could have been so successful... if I'd just taken you to school more often." She'll launch into a pity party where she wants ME to tell HER she wasn't a bad guy. If I even go so far as to agree and be like yeah, you were a lovely mom she would turn it on me with "but you were such a weird child, you didn't have friends," and so forth.

I think ultimately it's just not worth it. Wastes of space. If you can't be a good person to the child that you brought into the world then you're just not a good person.

Whew, that was long but it felt good.

Edit: oh and my dad was an enforcer for a gang while dealing cocaine. He killed something like 12-15 people. I thought my mom was making poo poo up before I started meeting people that verified her claims, and sometimes when I go to bars people actually recognize me as his daughter and tell me my dad was some kind of crazy mafia gangster kingpin. I'm serious. That's a whole other story, but honestly my dad really never did wrong by me except for not being around and for leaving me with the crazy crackhead couple that he thought were his friends. The male crackhead later died of aids--thank loving god I didn't get HIV--and the female crackhead ended up homeless, so karma.

Kilo India fucked around with this message at Aug 21, 2013 around 19:45

Aug 4, 2009

I was hiding under your bench because I don't want to work out

Well holy poo poo. Thank you for taking the time to tell us.

May 22, 2007


clammy posted:

Your mom has a medical condition that causes her to act that way, so if you and your husband can't just suck it up and refrain from yelling at her for things that aren't her fault then it's probably best you limit your interactions. On the one hand you say she took his bacon because she was confused then in the same breath you say it was rude. So you're judging, but excusing yourself for judging because *OMG so annoying!* Did you prep your husband before letting him interact with her--let him know what's up with her aneurism-affected brain? Because it's inexcusable to yell at a mentally-disabled old person for getting confused and doing confused poo poo like that, especially over a goddamn piece of bacon.

Oh believe me, I told my husband that he was a jerk over it, and I do my best to have her visit when he's not around. I have outright told him to stop being an rear end in a top hat to my mother, but it's just a huge clash in personalities between the two. She doesn't exactly come off as disabled, more like she has ADHD where there's just no filter between her brain and mouth and it's just exhausting to deal with.

I guess I just have trouble imagining that she could look at a sandwich and think "this is where I should get my deli meat from," but then again she did have a moment earlier where she thought the wrap he was using was a plate so who knows. The twisting the story around is probably the most annoying part, but I just mentally roll my eyes and don't bother commenting because her version is cemented in her mind and nothing I do is going to change it.

Aaand now I feel lame. My family has drama over bacon.

Oct 24, 2008

Lyz posted:

Oh believe me, I told my husband that he was a jerk over it, and I do my best to have her visit when he's not around. I have outright told him to stop being an rear end in a top hat to my mother, but it's just a huge clash in personalities between the two.

Dude, I would be a hell of a lot more concerned about the man you married choosing to yell at someone important in your life (and utterly ignoring your wishes, being incapable of controlling his temper??).

College Ruled
Apr 25, 2012

"It seems another associate has taken my friendly attitude as to insinuate desires that would exist outside the bounds of professional courtesy."

Courtesy of: 01001100 01001100 01001010 01001011 01010011 01101001 01001100 01101011

clammy posted:

Your mom has a medical condition that causes her to act that way, so if you and your husband can't just suck it up and refrain from yelling at her for things that aren't her fault then it's probably best you limit your interactions. On the one hand you say she took his bacon because she was confused then in the same breath you say it was rude. So you're judging, but excusing yourself for judging because *OMG so annoying!* Did you prep your husband before letting him interact with her--let him know what's up with her aneurism-affected brain? Because it's inexcusable to yell at a mentally-disabled old person for getting confused and doing confused poo poo like that, especially over a goddamn piece of bacon.

So being wired to be an aggrivating rear end is a medical condition?

Oct 19, 2006

This is one of the worst things I've read on these forums. You did insanely well to become even a functional human being, let an actual good person with empathy and self-awareness. That's like, heroic levels of head power. And now I want to die so I can stop wondering how people can treat their own children this way.

e. stop being so down on yourself in other threads, you are crazy strong and it's true whether you believe it or not, but believing it may help your understandably low self-esteem. Also never see or speak to that person again.

e2. That thread where you said you sent money to your mother and were worried about financial stuff... you never mentioned any of this stuff

Corridor fucked around with this message at Aug 22, 2013 around 12:50

Aug 4, 2009

I was hiding under your bench because I don't want to work out

College Ruled posted:

So being wired to be an aggrivating rear end is a medical condition?

Yes, having something occur that damages your brain and fundamentally changes how you think, act and respond to things is a medical condition and should be taken into account when interacting with that person. Being annoying in the first place and being crap as a parent isn't invalidated by it, but unless casual bacon theft and misunderstanding plates were traits from before the incident you give them some leeway.

You don't get angry and start yelling at someone about it regardless.

Kilo India
Mar 12, 2006

E/N Success Story

My story isn't even the worse story I know. But I'm the person who got out: I'm the luckiest person in the loving world.

My cousin's parents were like mine. They made her get a job at a bar (read: prostitution) when she was just 14 to support their heroin habit. She ended up having her first baby at 15. She's now a few years older than me and has five or six children. She doesn't know where any of them are. She still works at a bar because it's the only job she knows. She regularly passes out and ends up getting taken advantage of by whatever guy wants to take her home that night. She says she likes her life and she doesn't want to change. I've tried. She scammed me for money the last time I saw her by running up a $600 bar tab on my account saying that all the drinks she was drinking with me were "lady's drinks." (Bar girls get $20 a drink when they're working and $40 a shot.)

One little girl I grew up with--she lived in my house for a long time--I lost track of when she was 12 and I was 14. Her mom sold her to some man for 20 pounds of Costco meat and a television. The guy was like 30, and she was 12. My mom made a half-hearted attempt to look for her but didn't go any farther. Her mom was homeless and never prosecuted by the police or anything. I finally heard about what happened to her from my dad this year: she's still with the guy she was sold to, and she has two kids.

Another girl I grew up with was repeatedly raped by her father, who also abused her mom. Her mom turned into this extremely aggressive lesbian later on, who also molested her and tried to molest me too. I don't know where she ended up. My mom saw her a few years ago but didn't even think to ask how she was doing.

This poo poo happens all the time. I think this is just something that people don't talk about, but need to talk about more.

Jun 3, 2006

Welcome to Trophy Island
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Kilo India posted:

This poo poo happens all the time. I think this is just something that people don't talk about, but need to talk about more.

You live in the US? It's disgusting to me that any of this poo poo could happen. There are literally hundreds of people who failed you during your life, not just your abusers. What the gently caress was wrong with the people at the school you went to that they didn't notice a child not showing up all the time or not having an actual home to live in or a parent around? Just... what the loving gently caress. I agree that you're an incredibly strong person to have gone through all that and still come out a functional adult.

Kilo India
Mar 12, 2006

E/N Success Story

I've thought about this a lot, because of all the children that fall through the cracks like me. My mom was very charismatic, and she was always able to cry and plead her way out of things.

Throughout my whole childhood school career, I went to a different school EVERY YEAR. This is because the school would refuse to advance me to the next grade level due to poor attendance. Throughout the year, my mom would go in and cry and say she was trying her best, that she was a single mom, that she couldn't get me into school, etc. I would get detention a lot, and they'd never believe that she just didn't want me going to school sometimes.

So from 1st grade to 5th grade, she did this: she switched my school every year by using different addresses. So they never really caught on that I wasn't actually attending school or that I had a legitimate problem. When she switched, they'd just test me or just throw me directly into the grade level I should have been by age. As a result, even though I was really smart I would do poorly in school 'cause I had no idea what the gently caress.

By 6th grade though she couldn't do this anymore, so my stepfather sent me to private school. He spent like $20,000 in tuition, so they didn't care if I went or not. But when they started asking questions, she switched me back to ANOTHER school--this time a public intermediate school. Then she switched me to a different private school. Then I just stopped going entirely.

You can legally drop out at the age of 15, but you can legally be "homeschooled" at any age. As long as you SAY a child is being homeschooled, there is NO standardized testing, there are NO welfare checks, there is NOTHING. I got my GED when I was 15, by the way, but some people just never get anything.

Around 3rd grade I actually did get investigated by CPS. The CPS agent, her name was Julie, was a wonderful woman. She brought me seashells because I loved them, and she would buy me snacks and stuff. However, all she was required to do was verify that I wasn't dying of starvation. Her case report stated the following: she was concerned because I was too responsible, which was a hallmark of neglect. She said that she observed me doing tasks such as cooking and cleaning in a way that wasn't usual for someone my age, and that she believed I was essentially caring for myself. But my case was just closed after a year, no followup.

If CPS does not see open wounds on a child, they do not investigate. A few years ago a foster child died of neglect and was found to have a gaping head wound; investigation found that the family had been keeping her in a CAVE in the back of the house and no one questioned it.

I am in the US, and I think in many ways this is a US problem. I'd be interested to know if this is as big a problem in say, Canada, Australia, UK, etc. I think part of it is the fact we don't check on the welfare of children. I feel like others in this thread could back me up on this one.

Oct 19, 2006

Kilo India posted:

My story isn't even the worse story I know. But I'm the person who got out: I'm the luckiest person in the loving world.

I know your title was for another thread that actually ended badly for you and the title was kinda premature, but based on this then yeah, definitely a success story. TBH it sounds like not that much 'luck' was involved.

The rest of your post makes me wanna kill myself btw. I'm gonna stop reading this thread now.


Kilo India
Mar 12, 2006

E/N Success Story

Corridor posted:

I know your title was for another thread that actually ended badly for you and the title was kinda premature, but based on this then yeah, definitely a success story. TBH it sounds like not that much 'luck' was involved.

The rest of your post makes me wanna kill myself btw. I'm gonna stop reading this thread now.

You're the most consistently sweet person I've ever seen on these forums, and I just wanted to comment on that. You probably don't even realize how many people you must have helped through these boards. But, I really do think it was luck. That's sort of what I try to emphasize.

My cousin had a very similar upbringing to me. The only difference is that when we were forced to work at 14, she chose the bar and I chose (of all things) an auto repair shop. I know without a doubt if I had chosen the bar too I would be in the same situation as her. I know this deep within my heart.

How do we escape? This is the question I've asked myself throughout my life. I'm still not fixed, I still have a lot of issues. But I could have been so, so much worse. All I can do is think about the others that didn't escape and my heart breaks and I don't understand why it has to be this way. My cousin's children will probably grow up to be like her. Their children will probably grow up to be like them. So how do we escape? It's such a terrible problem.

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