Re: Thanks for the (repressed) memories

[Guest guest]

Hi, I know Scary Eyes and teeth-screech pretty well too. Reading

the too-small-shoe story really reminded me of my mother. Not

because we had the same incident, but because there were so many

times when she would totally lose her temper, and then come across

something (i.e. the shoe paper) that showed her that she was, in

fact, " right " , and then it would all be giggles and laughter

and " oh, wasn't that funny when I thought for a second I wasn't

right " ...feels like there's a memory there I can't quite grasp

Sara

> >

> > ,

> >

> > Your post actually made me remember a memory af something my

nada

> did.

> > What is it with the inappropriate laughter, anyways? I guess even

> > headcases can find things funny...

> >

> > I was about five, and my nada had brought me some new shoes home

> from

> > a store, and wanted me to try them on. Reasonable enough--but

> doesn't

> > it always start out that way? Anyway, I put on eon my foot, and

it

> > didn't fit. It was too small for my foot to go all the way in. I

> told

> > my nada, " It doesn't fit. " Se replied, " Of course it does--put

it

> on. "

> > I tried to jam my foot into the shoe, repeating that it didn't

fit,

> > and she became more and more angry. Like I was doing it on

purpose,

> > for the diabolical pleasure of frustrating her expectations.

> Remember,

> > I was five.

> >

> > She got right down in my face, did the Scary Eyes, and screamed

> > through her teeth, " PUT THEM ON! NOW! " She was inches away,

> shouting

> > at me that it was my size, as I tried with all my might to crush

my

> > foot into the sneaker. I still remember, it way sky blue, with

> those

> > newfangled velcro straps. I was miserable, wanting nothing more

> than

> > to get the frigging shoe on my foot, to please her so she'd stop

> > hollering at me and looking like a monster.

> >

> > Finally, she snatched the shoe from me and examined it. She

stuck

> her

> > hand in, and pulled out a wad of paper stuck in the toe, to fill

> the

> > shoe out. She looked at it for a minute, then burst out

laughing.

> No

> > wonder the shoe hadn't fit! She laughed and laughed, like it was

> the

> > most sublime joke. I think in that moment, she'd forgotten my

> > existence. Finally she handed the shoes back, and went on her

way.

> >

> > I remember, at the moment she handed it back to me,

thinking, " Now

> > she'll apologize. She made a mistake, yelled at me for something

> that

> > wasn't my fault. She'll comfort me and say she didn't mean it. "

She

> > did nothing. As far as she was concerned, the incident had come

to

> a

> > hilarious conclusion, and all that was left was to remember it

with

> > amusement. I was left sitting there with the hated shoes, and a

> sense

> > of abandonment and on-my-own-ness.

> >

> > It was the beginning, I think, of my conscious realization that

> > Something Was Wrong Here. Where most kids took for oblivious

> granted a

> > feeling of being cared about as a person, I was left with a

> whistling

> > vacuum. I suppose I can be proud that I first knew of it at

five.

> But

> > I'd trade pride for a mother that wasn't so far up her own ass

that

> > she can't decide which end to brush her teeth.

> >

> > Have a good weekend, y'all.

> >

> >

> > Love always,

> > Vi

> >

>

[Guest guest]

Hi is, spot on! My parents classified me as " mature " when I was

about 4. I remember my nada telling me how glad she was that she

had never had to explain anything about sex or periods to me because

when I was 4 she found me reading a some facts of life book in the

bookstore. This apparently absolved her of any responsibility for

the next 18 years - fabulous, huh?

My friends also had parents who made them dinners and picked them up

from events. I was always the one walking home, waiting on the

bench at school, or begging a ride. And while my father made all

the meals when I was very young, I think he got tired of this about

10 years later (who wouldn't) and we lived on microwaved dinners

after that.

Sara

>

> Funny how 'maturity' means that parents can take even less

responsibility for you...my parents always thought that I

was 'mature' enough to take care of myself, even when I was much too

young. I've realized that a lot of the fears that I had (and

sometimes still have) about being alone or freaking out if someone

is late/not easily contacted revolved around all this time I had to

be by myself. And I definitely had no contingency plan if something

went wrong...no going to the neighbors or calling someone else. My

mother just didn't seem to think that it was her responsibility to

take care of me, especially if I was so 'mature' and could do it

myself.

>

> It was only recently that I realized most of my friends had

mothers that were at home for them and did things like make meals

and pick them up from events or clubs. They probably knew where

their mothers were most of the time and could contact them at work

if necessary. Dropping by their mothers' houses would not become

some issue of violating privacy if it was not planned in advance on

the mother's schedule. They weren't just an inconvenience.

>

> is

>

>

> ---------------------------------

> Fussy? Opinionated? Impossible to please? Perfect. Join Yahoo!'s

user panel and lay it on us.

>

>

[Guest guest]

Yes -- I remembering being envious of some of my friends'

mothers....I especially remember thinking it was so wonderful when

we'd come through my friend's door and the mom would call out " I got

you some new clothes today -- they're on your bed! "

My mother hated shopping -- and made it an ordeal when she had to

take us. Now, to be fair, I'm no fan of it either. (I don't tend

to shop when I'm bored or have free time.) But if my kids need

something, or have grown out of their school & dress clothes, I know

it's my duty to make sure they've got the correct clothes for

occasions. Even though, between you and me, I don't look forward to

it, I don't burden them with my feelings -- by the time we get to

the mall, we're having fun. I'll usually treat them to something

nice at a store they like, just not so much that it REALLY breaks

the bank. But if they fall in love with an item and it looks good

on them, I like to make them happy by saying yes.

My mom would grudgingly go, making sure we knew she didn't want to

do it -- and she took us to stores we didn't like but that suited

her. And I'm not trying to be mean about the fact that we didn't

have much money to spend on these things -- but I know people (my

best friend, for example) who are on a stict budget and still make

sure they budget for the clothes their kids need, and she always

budgets for her kids to pick a couple of trendy things that they

like. So she honors their budget, but also acknowledges that it's a

thrill for a kid to get something they like for school or a special

event. She's a good mom who takes the steps to make sure her kids

have some joys in life, but honors her responsibilities when

managing the family money.

My mom would make it clear she didn't want to be shopping with us --

I remember a few angry expletives being thrown out when we didn't

like something she held up for us to consider.... " How about this? "

and if we didn't like it, there was hell to pay. I particularly

remember her storming out of a store, with my brother and I

scampering behind her. She was PISSED OFF because we didn't like

anything she picked out. We didn't like the store to begin with,

but she didn't care what we liked.

(You'd think people would know that having children involves buying

appropriate clothing for them over the course of time they're in

your care -- oh, about 18 years or so, give or take.)

It was always unpleasant. She never bothered to figure out " How can

I make this task better for us? " .....she just went home and stewed

about it and probably secretly hoped we wouldn't grow anymore so she

wouldn't have to be bothered to buy new clothes for us. She never

took a good look at it with an eye to making it a more enjoyable

outing for everyone. She just ignored the problem, and it happened

every year.

That is the SINGLE reason I got a job when I was 16 -- so I wouldn't

have to deal with her anymore. I had my own money and went shopping

on my own. And she was glad to let me.

-Kyla

>

> Funny how 'maturity' means that parents can take even less

responsibility for you...my parents always thought that I

was 'mature' enough to take care of myself, even when I was much too

young. I've realized that a lot of the fears that I had (and

sometimes still have) about being alone or freaking out if someone

is late/not easily contacted revolved around all this time I had to

be by myself. And I definitely had no contingency plan if something

went wrong...no going to the neighbors or calling someone else. My

mother just didn't seem to think that it was her responsibility to

take care of me, especially if I was so 'mature' and could do it

myself.

>

> It was only recently that I realized most of my friends had

mothers that were at home for them and did things like make meals

and pick them up from events or clubs. They probably knew where

their mothers were most of the time and could contact them at work

if necessary. Dropping by their mothers' houses would not become

some issue of violating privacy if it was not planned in advance on

the mother's schedule. They weren't just an inconvenience.

>

> is

>

>

> ---------------------------------

> Fussy? Opinionated? Impossible to please? Perfect. Join Yahoo!'s

user panel and lay it on us.

>

>

[Guest guest]

You're very kind -- and it's so comforting to read these posts and

see that I'm not alone....that even the clenched teeth is a common

weapon BPDs use on their children.

Your words describing the importance of the human face are so true

and so beautifully expressed -- yes, it IS cruel to look at a child

that way, because that's our mirror to how we affect the world.

What kind of message does that send when the person you depend on

most looks at you with such hatred?

You're SO RIGHT -- we can't minimize the damage done. Those tiny,

insidious messages we got every day that we'd better tread lightly

in the world.

{hugs}

Kyla

> >

> > Yes! THe scary stare -- the slow, low voice through clenched

> > teeth......

> >

>

>

> Remember that Look, people. That was your introduction to human

life.

> Remember that, and don't ever, ever let anyone minimize what you

went

> through. Hell takes a lot of different forms, not just the obvious

> war/genocide ones. Sadly, it can take individual, human face too. I

> have to remind myself of the gifts of this experience a lot--the

> compassion, the insight--but I've also had to cease allowing

others to

> minimize my experience, for their own mental comfort. They never

saw

> sheer, blank-eyed madness screeching at them. That was not their

> introduction to life. This problem is not taken near seriously

enough.

>

> What is it, 2% with BPD? How many millions of kids were introduced

to

> human interaction through the virulently hateful scary stare? This

is

> sheerly f'ed up...and the lack of acknowledgement of the problem--

it's

> like the last taboo left.

>

>

>

> > WHen my mother tossed me out of the house when I was a college

> > student, her " apology " was " I don't know what got into me " --

> >

> > It was all about her. I didn't feel apologized to. She didn't

even

> > begin the sentence with " I'm sorry, I don't know what got into

me. "

> > She kept the focus on her -- as if to say " Look how stressed I

am!

> > I even threw you out of the house! "

> >

>

> God, I know exactly what you mean. Like, " wow, fancy that! I'm so

> stressed, I threw that object against the wall harder than usual! "

> Except that the object was YOU.

>

>

> > Then, the cherry on top was that my dad said " And calling her

crazy

> > doesn't help!! " He said it with a glare, too.

>

>

> Like you " helping " is more important than reality. You're such a

bad

> team player.

>

>

> >I guess I didn't read the manual on " How to

> > Conduct Yourself When You're Being Thrown Out of Your Home! "

>

>

> You're lovely, Kyla.

>

>

> Love,

> Violetta

>

[Guest guest]

I was " mature " , too!

When I was in elementary school and my brother -- 4 years younger --

was there, too, my mother wouldn't bother to get up and help us get

ready......you know, help us dress and make us a nice breakfast...

She stayed in bed and so I took it upon myself to make sure my

brother and I were ready and we walked out the door and walked quite

a bit to get to the bus stop.

I can't IMAGINE staying in bed -- even today as my kids are entering

Middle School -- I make SURE to get up with them, make sure they're

ready, make sure they've got all they need for the day and make them

a hot breakfast.

I'm sure it's a flea, but they sure like it. My son expects his

good breakfast -- and he looks forward to what I make him.

That just makes the memory sting of my mother staying in bed all the

more....I wouldn't want to miss those mornings with them. (Now,

sometimes we spark and get off on the wrong foot, but those mornings

are the rarity.) We usually laugh and talk, kiss Dad goodbye and

then head out the door......

I just can't imagine missing out on that. I dread the first morning

of having an empty nest and no one to help get out the door. The

silence will feel strange, I just know it. When that window in life

closes, I won't have too many regrets and I will be sad to see it

end.

Makes my eyes water just thinking about it now.

-Kyla

>

> Funny how 'maturity' means that parents can take even less

responsibility for you...my parents always thought that I

was 'mature' enough to take care of myself, even when I was much too

young. I've realized that a lot of the fears that I had (and

sometimes still have) about being alone or freaking out if someone

is late/not easily contacted revolved around all this time I had to

be by myself. And I definitely had no contingency plan if something

went wrong...no going to the neighbors or calling someone else. My

mother just didn't seem to think that it was her responsibility to

take care of me, especially if I was so 'mature' and could do it

myself.

>

> It was only recently that I realized most of my friends had

mothers that were at home for them and did things like make meals

and pick them up from events or clubs. They probably knew where

their mothers were most of the time and could contact them at work

if necessary. Dropping by their mothers' houses would not become

some issue of violating privacy if it was not planned in advance on

the mother's schedule. They weren't just an inconvenience.

>

> is

>

>

> ---------------------------------

> Fussy? Opinionated? Impossible to please? Perfect. Join Yahoo!'s

user panel and lay it on us.

>

>

[Guest guest]

My nada made TONS of things clear, in her passive-aggressive or

aggressive way, depending on her mood.

She didn't want to:

take me clothes shopping

let me go to the grocery store with her

teach me to cook or let me help her cook

go to my soccer games

talk to me, play a game with me

drive me to a friend's house

go anywhere with me

listen to any stupid thing a stupid child

like myself might want to say

She pretty much wanted me to shut up and go away. But not TOO far

away. She liked for me to stay in the house. " Be back in an hour! "

when I went to the neighbor's. " Don't wear out your welcome! "

" Children should be seen and not heard. "

Geez, is there ANYONE on this board who didn't wonder why their nada

had children? To her, I was nothing but a bother, a burden, a pain.

And now it's, " Why don't you come over more? Why don't you call

more??? Sob sob sob I MIIIIIISSSSS you. " (and when I do talk to her

it's minimize, criticize, complain, order around, spew her anger on me

about bro, SIL, dad, or whatever, whine...)

This turnaround is so irritating. Our relationship was a house of

cards and now she doesn't get why the roof is caving in.

EVEN IF my childhood had been better, I would still not like her, but

maybe I could handle it better. I don't know.

You reap what you sow.

-Deanna

>

> My mom would make it clear she didn't want to be shopping with us --

[Guest guest]

This maturity thing has been bugging me even before I knew anything

about bpd. I commented on how my brothers and my hair turned grey

way before we were 40 years old. My parents have just now started to

turn grey (well my nada has alopicia now since I went NC, hmm, maybe

that monkey put back where it belongs had the affect on her that it

has had on my brothers and me) in their mid 60's.

patinage

> >

> > Funny how 'maturity' means that parents can take even less

> responsibility for you...my parents always thought that I

> was 'mature' enough to take care of myself, even when I was much

too

> young. I've realized that a lot of the fears that I had (and

> sometimes still have) about being alone or freaking out if someone

> is late/not easily contacted revolved around all this time I had to

> be by myself. And I definitely had no contingency plan if

something

> went wrong...no going to the neighbors or calling someone else. My

> mother just didn't seem to think that it was her responsibility to

> take care of me, especially if I was so 'mature' and could do it

> myself.

> >

> > It was only recently that I realized most of my friends had

> mothers that were at home for them and did things like make meals

> and pick them up from events or clubs. They probably knew where

> their mothers were most of the time and could contact them at work

> if necessary. Dropping by their mothers' houses would not become

> some issue of violating privacy if it was not planned in advance on

> the mother's schedule. They weren't just an inconvenience.

> >

> > is

> >

> >

> > ---------------------------------

> > Fussy? Opinionated? Impossible to please? Perfect. Join Yahoo!'s

> user panel and lay it on us.

> >

> >

[Guest guest]

Hi Kyla and All,

I feel the same way about and had the same kinds of

experiences as you described in both of your below

posts about The BP Stare. When I think of this part

of the KO experience ( " And now (drum roll) . . . The

KO Experience! " ), I wonder if some things are

unforgivable. I forgive for myself, not for

perpetrators, but I've wondered lately if I sometimes

push myself too hard to forgive some of the especially

bad things my FOO (and others) did to me. What do you

all think: are any KO (or other) experiences

UNforgivable? I’ve thought of four things that COULD

make some things unforgivable: severity; longevity;

cultural, societal, and humanitarian standards; and/or

number of people involved. For example, some things

my FOO did were severely destructive to me, lasted for

decades, were against the standards of my culture,

society, and humanity, and deliberately involved the

cooperation of more than one person against me.

I understand that it can help me to continue forgiving

what they did. However, at times, such as when I have

a strong restimulation about my KO experiences, I can

feel overwhelmed and frustrated by spending more

energy trying to control my feelings of frustration,

aggravation and anger than I do if I just let myself

carry a small amount of these feelings around as a

motivator for myself. This is related to the

decades-long exhaustion I felt from trying to maintain

my sanity while dealing with my FOO’s behavior. What

does everything think about this? I value your

feedback. Thanks.

One Non-BP Recovering Man

--- kylaboo728 wrote:

> You're very kind -- and it's so comforting to read

> these posts and

> see that I'm not alone....that even the clenched

> teeth is a common

> weapon BPDs use on their children.

>

> Your words describing the importance of the human

> face are so true

> and so beautifully expressed -- yes, it IS cruel to

> look at a child

> that way, because that's our mirror to how we affect

> the world.

> What kind of message does that send when the person

> you depend on

> most looks at you with such hatred?

>

> You're SO RIGHT -- we can't minimize the damage

> done. Those tiny,

> insidious messages we got every day that we'd better

> tread lightly

> in the world.

>

> {hugs}

> Kyla

>

>

> > >

> > > Yes! THe scary stare -- the slow, low voice

> through clenched

> > > teeth......

> > >

> >

> >

> > Remember that Look, people. That was your

> introduction to human

> life.

> > Remember that, and don't ever, ever let anyone

> minimize what you

> went

> > through. Hell takes a lot of different forms, not

> just the obvious

> > war/genocide ones. Sadly, it can take individual,

> human face too. I

> > have to remind myself of the gifts of this

> experience a lot--the

> > compassion, the insight--but I've also had to

> cease allowing

> others to

> > minimize my experience, for their own mental

> comfort. They never

> saw

> > sheer, blank-eyed madness screeching at them. That

> was not their

> > introduction to life. This problem is not taken

> near seriously

> enough.

> >

> > What is it, 2% with BPD? How many millions of kids

> were introduced

> to

> > human interaction through the virulently hateful

> scary stare? This

> is

> > sheerly f'ed up...and the lack of acknowledgement

> of the problem--

> it's

> > like the last taboo left.

> >

> >

> >

> > > WHen my mother tossed me out of the house when I

> was a college

> > > student, her " apology " was " I don't know what

> got into me " --

> > >

> > > It was all about her. I didn't feel apologized

> to. She didn't

> even

> > > begin the sentence with " I'm sorry, I don't know

> what got into

> me. "

> > > She kept the focus on her -- as if to say " Look

> how stressed I

> am!

> > > I even threw you out of the house! "

> > >

> >

> > God, I know exactly what you mean. Like, " wow,

> fancy that! I'm so

> > stressed, I threw that object against the wall

> harder than usual! "

> > Except that the object was YOU.

> >

> >

> > > Then, the cherry on top was that my dad said

> " And calling her

> crazy

> > > doesn't help!! " He said it with a glare, too.

> >

> >

> > Like you " helping " is more important than reality.

> You're such a

> bad

> > team player.

> >

> >

> > >I guess I didn't read the manual on " How to

> > > Conduct Yourself When You're Being Thrown Out of

> Your Home! "

> >

> >

> > You're lovely, Kyla.

> >

> >

> > Love,

> > Violetta

> >

>

>

>

________________________________________________________________________________\

____

Park yourself in front of a world of choices in alternative vehicles. Visit the

Yahoo! Auto Green Center.

http://autos.yahoo.com/green_center/

[Guest guest]

You know, for a long time I thought maybe I was a lousy,

grudge-carrying, unforgiving jerk, cause I haven't " gotten over " nada

stuff. I'm sure I could be better at forgiving in general, and I do

work on that.

What I *just* got is that this stuff is still going on with her. The

invasiveness, the boundary crossing, the controlling, etc. It all

looks a little different now, because I am not a five year old child

anymore. Now it's guilting instead of yelling.

If my nada was like any other relatively healthy person today, I

believe that I would be past this old stuff. However, as she

continues to behave in an invasive, minimizing, hurtful, controlling

way, of course it's like opening that old wound over and over again.

So how could I expect it to heal?

I can't believe it took me so long to see this! Oh well.

-Deanna

>

> Hi Kyla and All,

>

> I feel the same way about and had the same kinds of

> experiences as you described in both of your below

> posts about The BP Stare. When I think of this part

> of the KO experience ( " And now (drum roll) . . . The

> KO Experience! " ), I wonder if some things are

> unforgivable. I forgive for myself, not for

> perpetrators, but I've wondered lately if I sometimes

> push myself too hard to forgive some of the especially

> bad things my FOO (and others) did to me. What do you

> all think: are any KO (or other) experiences

> UNforgivable? I've thought of four things that COULD

> make some things unforgivable: severity; longevity;

> cultural, societal, and humanitarian standards; and/or

> number of people involved. For example, some things

> my FOO did were severely destructive to me, lasted for

> decades, were against the standards of my culture,

> society, and humanity, and deliberately involved the

> cooperation of more than one person against me.

>

> I understand that it can help me to continue forgiving

> what they did. However, at times, such as when I have

> a strong restimulation about my KO experiences, I can

> feel overwhelmed and frustrated by spending more

> energy trying to control my feelings of frustration,

> aggravation and anger than I do if I just let myself

> carry a small amount of these feelings around as a

> motivator for myself. This is related to the

> decades-long exhaustion I felt from trying to maintain

> my sanity while dealing with my FOO's behavior. What

> does everything think about this? I value your

> feedback. Thanks.

>

> One Non-BP Recovering Man

>

[Guest guest]

Hi I'm Vicki- I'm new here; I'll be changing my e mail address as soon as I

can catch onto how to do it the right way; I just disabled something and

gave myself two viruses! Whew~ one of you mentioned about someone looking

at someone with such hatred; this is what my husband does to my daughter;

has done so for about (since two years after the relationship; after I

already had one of his children with one on the way; he's been the worst

with her and now me also for the last 3 -4 years; I'm not crying to be the

victim; I got myself into this mess; but I just needed someone to talk to;

since I've really got no one; I'm sorry for butting in; my mom was a

multiple personality dis. And my husband is bipolar; denial and

narcissistic; and multiple personality disorder; why do I always choose the

ones who I'm afraid of; and then they're my idol (actually he was my last

choice at the time) but what a sales man he was; I guess I always had a

pitch; to prove to the world I was worthy of anything; so I guess I had

-(not any longer) a co-dependency problem; my mom made me feel like crap

since about the age 7 for the most part; moved out on my own at 15; I'm

sorry I'm not used to the chat lingo abbreviations yet; and I guess I'm a

motor mouth- but getting back to why I responded- to have to live with

someone on a daily basis and have them look at you with hatred is just the

devil himself; If I could get away I would; I'm in online college; with only

4 classes to go; after loosing everything in my life; I mean everything I

ever worked for and maintained for the longest time single- I feel I should

get something out of the relationship; but I've had to fight anywhere from

1-30 times a week - protecting my daughter; playing referee- now most

recently he's verbally attacked his own son; when both his sons continued

getting strep throat; " You're not sick! " when our son (just a little guy) is

vomiting at the toilet; crying; interrupting his sleep time;

God bless all of you; I know I'm not the only one going through hard times;

may we all empower ourselves and may our children see what we did to provide

the best life possible- and realize that life is not like what they've

witnessed growing up; my daughter 20yrs. Understands; she sometimes gets mad

because I don't drop everything to move out; I tell her it's not as easy as

it seems- but I'll do my best to set you up with your own apt.

I'm sorry I'll go now; I'm open for talking if anyone would like- God bless!

_____

From: WTOAdultChildren1

[mailto:WTOAdultChildren1 ] On Behalf Of Recovering Non-BP

Sent: Saturday, June 09, 2007 11:56 PM

To: WTOAdultChildren1

Subject: Re: Re: Thanks for the (repressed) memories

Hi Kyla and All,

I feel the same way about and had the same kinds of

experiences as you described in both of your below

posts about The BP Stare. When I think of this part

of the KO experience ( " And now (drum roll) . . . The

KO Experience! " ), I wonder if some things are

unforgivable. I forgive for myself, not for

perpetrators, but I've wondered lately if I sometimes

push myself too hard to forgive some of the especially

bad things my FOO (and others) did to me. What do you

all think: are any KO (or other) experiences

UNforgivable? I've thought of four things that COULD

make some things unforgivable: severity; longevity;

cultural, societal, and humanitarian standards; and/or

number of people involved. For example, some things

my FOO did were severely destructive to me, lasted for

decades, were against the standards of my culture,

society, and humanity, and deliberately involved the

cooperation of more than one person against me.

I understand that it can help me to continue forgiving

what they did. However, at times, such as when I have

a strong restimulation about my KO experiences, I can

feel overwhelmed and frustrated by spending more

energy trying to control my feelings of frustration,

aggravation and anger than I do if I just let myself

carry a small amount of these feelings around as a

motivator for myself. This is related to the

decades-long exhaustion I felt from trying to maintain

my sanity while dealing with my FOO's behavior. What

does everything think about this? I value your

feedback. Thanks.

One Non-BP Recovering Man

--- kylaboo728 <kylaboo728yahoo (DOT) <mailto:kylaboo728%40yahoo.com> com>

wrote:

> You're very kind -- and it's so comforting to read

> these posts and

> see that I'm not alone....that even the clenched

> teeth is a common

> weapon BPDs use on their children.

>

> Your words describing the importance of the human

> face are so true

> and so beautifully expressed -- yes, it IS cruel to

> look at a child

> that way, because that's our mirror to how we affect

> the world.

> What kind of message does that send when the person

> you depend on

> most looks at you with such hatred?

>

> You're SO RIGHT -- we can't minimize the damage

> done. Those tiny,

> insidious messages we got every day that we'd better

> tread lightly

> in the world.

>

> {hugs}

> Kyla

>

>

> > >

> > > Yes! THe scary stare -- the slow, low voice

> through clenched

> > > teeth......

> > >

> >

> >

> > Remember that Look, people. That was your

> introduction to human

> life.

> > Remember that, and don't ever, ever let anyone

> minimize what you

> went

> > through. Hell takes a lot of different forms, not

> just the obvious

> > war/genocide ones. Sadly, it can take individual,

> human face too. I

> > have to remind myself of the gifts of this

> experience a lot--the

> > compassion, the insight--but I've also had to

> cease allowing

> others to

> > minimize my experience, for their own mental

> comfort. They never

> saw

> > sheer, blank-eyed madness screeching at them. That

> was not their

> > introduction to life. This problem is not taken

> near seriously

> enough.

> >

> > What is it, 2% with BPD? How many millions of kids

> were introduced

> to

> > human interaction through the virulently hateful

> scary stare? This

> is

> > sheerly f'ed up...and the lack of acknowledgement

> of the problem--

> it's

> > like the last taboo left.

> >

> >

> >

> > > WHen my mother tossed me out of the house when I

> was a college

> > > student, her " apology " was " I don't know what

> got into me " --

> > >

> > > It was all about her. I didn't feel apologized

> to. She didn't

> even

> > > begin the sentence with " I'm sorry, I don't know

> what got into

> me. "

> > > She kept the focus on her -- as if to say " Look

> how stressed I

> am!

> > > I even threw you out of the house! "

> > >

> >

> > God, I know exactly what you mean. Like, " wow,

> fancy that! I'm so

> > stressed, I threw that object against the wall

> harder than usual! "

> > Except that the object was YOU.

> >

> >

> > > Then, the cherry on top was that my dad said

> " And calling her

> crazy

> > > doesn't help!! " He said it with a glare, too.

> >

> >

> > Like you " helping " is more important than reality.

> You're such a

> bad

> > team player.

> >

> >

> > >I guess I didn't read the manual on " How to

> > > Conduct Yourself When You're Being Thrown Out of

> Your Home! "

> >

> >

> > You're lovely, Kyla.

> >

> >

> > Love,

> > Violetta

> >

>

>

>

__________________________________________________________

Park yourself in front of a world of choices in alternative vehicles. Visit

the Yahoo! Auto Green Center.

http://autos. <http://autos.yahoo.com/green_center/> yahoo.com/green_center/

[Guest guest]

Deanna (and everyone),

My mother also does a lot of this arm-grabbing, scary-eyes face stuff

too. I would spend hours transfixed on every detail of her face,

thinking about how much I hate every little thing about it. I still

feel that way about her face.

-Becky

>

>

>

>

>

>

> I got a lot of that in your face screaming too. I grew to hate hate

> hate hate the sight of her face. Too highly functioning to call me

> worthless, but she said it with that LOOK. So then it's all very

> " what are you talking about? " cause who can complain about a LOOK?

>

> Yet, that look is so hurtful. When I think about it, I don't know

> that I can recall a kind look. There were some " isn't that cute on

> you? " looks when I got new clothes.

>

> But the arm grabbing, eye to eye face staring who the eff do you think

> you are to be a bother to ME look...

>

> I remember staring at her jowls, the shape of her eyebrows, her lower

> row of teeth, the redness of her face, the stubby eyelashes.

> Thinking, " You hate me??? Well, I hate you TOO! "

>

> Wow, stuff is just flooding back to me.

>

> -Deanna

>

>

> >

> > ,

> >

> > Your post actually made me remember a memory af something my nada did.

> > What is it with the inappropriate laughter, anyways? I guess even

> > headcases can find things funny...

> >

> > I was about five, and my nada had brought me some new shoes home from

> > a store, and wanted me to try them on. Reasonable enough--but doesn't

> > it always start out that way? Anyway, I put on eon my foot, and it

> > didn't fit. It was too small for my foot to go all the way in. I told

> > my nada, " It doesn't fit. " Se replied, " Of course it does--put it on. "

> > I tried to jam my foot into the shoe, repeating that it didn't fit,

> > and she became more and more angry. Like I was doing it on purpose,

> > for the diabolical pleasure of frustrating her expectations. Remember,

> > I was five.

> >

> > She got right down in my face, did the Scary Eyes, and screamed

> > through her teeth, " PUT THEM ON! NOW! " She was inches away, shouting

> > at me that it was my size, as I tried with all my might to crush my

> > foot into the sneaker. I still remember, it way sky blue, with those

> > newfangled velcro straps. I was miserable, wanting nothing more than

> > to get the frigging shoe on my foot, to please her so she'd stop

> > hollering at me and looking like a monster.

> >

> > Finally, she snatched the shoe from me and examined it. She stuck her

> > hand in, and pulled out a wad of paper stuck in the toe, to fill the

> > shoe out. She looked at it for a minute, then burst out laughing. No

> > wonder the shoe hadn't fit! She laughed and laughed, like it was the

> > most sublime joke. I think in that moment, she'd forgotten my

> > existence. Finally she handed the shoes back, and went on her way.

> >

> > I remember, at the moment she handed it back to me, thinking, " Now

> > she'll apologize. She made a mistake, yelled at me for something that

> > wasn't my fault. She'll comfort me and say she didn't mean it. " She

> > did nothing. As far as she was concerned, the incident had come to a

> > hilarious conclusion, and all that was left was to remember it with

> > amusement. I was left sitting there with the hated shoes, and a sense

> > of abandonment and on-my-own-ness.

> >

> > It was the beginning, I think, of my conscious realization that

> > Something Was Wrong Here. Where most kids took for oblivious granted a

> > feeling of being cared about as a person, I was left with a whistling

> > vacuum. I suppose I can be proud that I first knew of it at five. But

> > I'd trade pride for a mother that wasn't so far up her own ass that

> > she can't decide which end to brush her teeth.

> >

> > Have a good weekend, y'all.

> >

> >

> > Love always,

> > Vi

> >

>

>

>

>

>

[Guest guest]

Hi Deanna,

I'm pretty sure I know why my mother wanted to have a child (in fact, she

dropped out of grad school and her colleagues tell me all she talked about was

having a child for a while before that...in some kind of sick twist I'm in the

same obscure academic field...). What she actually wanted was a doll to dress

up and play with (but not cry). Once I grew beyond that stage, it wasn't fun

any more.

is

---------------------------------

Building a website is a piece of cake.

Yahoo! Small Business gives you all the tools to get online.

[Guest guest]

This memory post and replies made me realize (again) that I have

blocked out almost every memory of any interaction I had with my BPD

mother when I was a child. I know it would probably be helpful to me

to be able to recall some of them, but, at present, they're gone.

Thanks for all your posts.

>

> So I'm in the shower this morning, minding my own darn business,

> when out of nowhere this old memory just came and slapped me in the

> face:

>

> I posted once before about the in-law apartment I lived in by

myself

> when I was 11-13 (was with nada for about a year before she moved

in

> with her SO). Well, it was Christmas time in the year nada stopped

> living there, and the man who owned the home and lived in the main

> part of the house left me a gift basket.

>

> It was full of food -- not holiday treats, mind you, but FOOD: cans

> of tuna and soup, saltines, cereal. Completely puzzled as to why a

> grown (but nowhere near old enough to be senile) man would give a

12

> year old kid tuna fish for Christmas, I brought it up to nada the

> next time I saw her.

>

> Nada thought for a second and then said, " Oh! I bet he heard you

> screaming at me on the phone when you were crying that there was no

> food in the house. " (Sidenote: um, that's because there was no food

> in the house). Then she laughed like it was the funniest thing

she'd

> heard all day.

>

> When she was done laughing, she told me to not be so loud on the

> phone, bc obviously, I was disturbing our landlord.

>

> All of these memories are flooding out lately, it is so bizarre.

>

[Guest guest]

BINGO, Deanna!! Me, too!

I carry the anger around, too. I guess because I was never

acknowledged -- and yet, in my 20's and 30's I kept coming around,

trying to make it work with nada. Thinking all was well now. She

was pleasant and fun many of those times, and I would get sucked in

and feeling like we'd reached a new plateau in our relationship.

And THEN -- she'll pull some attention seeking, negativity, silent

treatment or sulking act, and the past comes crashing down on me

again.

When she does this, I instantly revert back to the old wounds -- to

that teenager she so abruptly threw out of the house; to that girl

who wasn't allowed to announce she was engaged because it

would " upset " nada (so we sat there and silently watched sitcoms

instead of celebrating); the girl who graduated from college without

nada in the audience because she had to rush to another state to

wait in a waiting room while her dad had heart surgery (even HE

didn't want her to do that! She could have flown out the day AFTER

my graduation, but she wanted out of there.), etc...etc...

The pain comes flooding back every time she acts this way. So I

have to acknowledge that THERE IS PAIN. And I have to acknowledge

that the most important person in a relationship with nada is NADA.

The most important thing to nada is her FEELINGS, her EMOTIONS. All

else falls away.

And then she wonders where everybody went? It's insanity. We're

all supposed to come back when the smoke clears and act as if

there's nothing going on -- or we're punished. And I've gotten so

good at it, I don't even know WHAT I'm feeling half the time. It's

a skill I have to get back, because of my years denying them in the

FOG. I navigated the outside world in a cloud -- a world of my own -

- and never had enough sense of myself or confidence to do anything

with my life. I just drifted into this or that job, because I had

rent to pay, etc. I just existed.

So now, all these years later, she and fada keep trying to pull me

back to the table to keep playing their " feel sorry for nada " game,

and I just can't do it anymore. I'm done. I'm almost 45 years old -

- what a waste of a couple of decades.

So, as for the forgiving part? I can let her go -- that's what I

prefer to call it. I can just trust her to God's care and live my

life leaving her to her game. Seeing it for the tragedy it is. A

life based on fitful emotions and sadness.

When I'm feeling strong enough, I'll call and check on her. But I

refuse to take responsibility anymore for something she structured

long before I was born. This is her life, it's up to her to build a

life for herself. To find her passions and set goals and then get

up off her ass and reach them. It has nothing to do with me, and

she has SOME NERVE blaming her lack of living on me.

-Kyla

> >

> > Hi Kyla and All,

> >

> > I feel the same way about and had the same kinds of

> > experiences as you described in both of your below

> > posts about The BP Stare. When I think of this part

> > of the KO experience ( " And now (drum roll) . . . The

> > KO Experience! " ), I wonder if some things are

> > unforgivable. I forgive for myself, not for

> > perpetrators, but I've wondered lately if I sometimes

> > push myself too hard to forgive some of the especially

> > bad things my FOO (and others) did to me. What do you

> > all think: are any KO (or other) experiences

> > UNforgivable? I've thought of four things that COULD

> > make some things unforgivable: severity; longevity;

> > cultural, societal, and humanitarian standards; and/or

> > number of people involved. For example, some things

> > my FOO did were severely destructive to me, lasted for

> > decades, were against the standards of my culture,

> > society, and humanity, and deliberately involved the

> > cooperation of more than one person against me.

> >

> > I understand that it can help me to continue forgiving

> > what they did. However, at times, such as when I have

> > a strong restimulation about my KO experiences, I can

> > feel overwhelmed and frustrated by spending more

> > energy trying to control my feelings of frustration,

> > aggravation and anger than I do if I just let myself

> > carry a small amount of these feelings around as a

> > motivator for myself. This is related to the

> > decades-long exhaustion I felt from trying to maintain

> > my sanity while dealing with my FOO's behavior. What

> > does everything think about this? I value your

> > feedback. Thanks.

> >

> > One Non-BP Recovering Man

> >

>

[Guest guest]

Hi Vicki --

Glad you're here. Acknowledging there's a problem and reaching out

for help is the first step to getting your life back on track.

It's great you've only got 4 classes to go --the end is in sight.

Maybe after that you can pursue something to get some confidence and

independence.

If I may be so bold, your first priority is to protect your

children. You are the only one who can stand up to what your

husband does to them. If you read some of these posts, there is a

lot of hurt and anger in many of us because one parent didn't stop

the other from abusing us -- by verbal or physical abuse. Both

types of abuse damage the person.

So, I would hope that you stand between ANY abuser and your

children. That way, they will know they are worthy human beings --

just as you are -- and they are not here for the bullies of the

world to indulge themselves freely. It has to stop with you.

So, do what you need to do -- seek advice from a therapist, a good,

wise friend -- do something to let your children know they are

valuable and loved.

No, it's not as easy as it looks. But sometimes life demands that

we do the right thing. And the right thing is not always easy, but

if it's right, you can summon the courage and rise to the occasion.

You're stronger than you think. Do what you need to do to find your

strength. All of us have been there -- we're rooting for you.

{hugs}

Kyla

> > > >

> > > > Yes! THe scary stare -- the slow, low voice

> > through clenched

> > > > teeth......

> > > >

> > >

> > >

> > > Remember that Look, people. That was your

> > introduction to human

> > life.

> > > Remember that, and don't ever, ever let anyone

> > minimize what you

> > went

> > > through. Hell takes a lot of different forms, not

> > just the obvious

> > > war/genocide ones. Sadly, it can take individual,

> > human face too. I

> > > have to remind myself of the gifts of this

> > experience a lot--the

> > > compassion, the insight--but I've also had to

> > cease allowing

> > others to

> > > minimize my experience, for their own mental

> > comfort. They never

> > saw

> > > sheer, blank-eyed madness screeching at them. That

> > was not their

> > > introduction to life. This problem is not taken

> > near seriously

> > enough.

> > >

> > > What is it, 2% with BPD? How many millions of kids

> > were introduced

> > to

> > > human interaction through the virulently hateful

> > scary stare? This

> > is

> > > sheerly f'ed up...and the lack of acknowledgement

> > of the problem--

> > it's

> > > like the last taboo left.

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > > > WHen my mother tossed me out of the house when I

> > was a college

> > > > student, her " apology " was " I don't know what

> > got into me " --

> > > >

> > > > It was all about her. I didn't feel apologized

> > to. She didn't

> > even

> > > > begin the sentence with " I'm sorry, I don't know

> > what got into

> > me. "

> > > > She kept the focus on her -- as if to say " Look

> > how stressed I

> > am!

> > > > I even threw you out of the house! "

> > > >

> > >

> > > God, I know exactly what you mean. Like, " wow,

> > fancy that! I'm so

> > > stressed, I threw that object against the wall

> > harder than usual! "

> > > Except that the object was YOU.

> > >

> > >

> > > > Then, the cherry on top was that my dad said

> > " And calling her

> > crazy

> > > > doesn't help!! " He said it with a glare, too.

> > >

> > >

> > > Like you " helping " is more important than reality.

> > You're such a

> > bad

> > > team player.

> > >

> > >

> > > >I guess I didn't read the manual on " How to

> > > > Conduct Yourself When You're Being Thrown Out of

> > Your Home! "

> > >

> > >

> > > You're lovely, Kyla.

> > >

> > >

> > > Love,

> > > Violetta

> > >

> >

> >

> >

>

> __________________________________________________________

> Park yourself in front of a world of choices in alternative

vehicles. Visit

> the Yahoo! Auto Green Center.

> http://autos. <http://autos.yahoo.com/green_center/>

yahoo.com/green_center/

>

>

>

>

>

>

>

[Guest guest]

Deanna - I so agree with this. I love that you all helped me reach

this realization much more quickly than I could have on my own. I

think I feel a need to forgive but I could if she stopped doing this

stuff. I don't like the yucky feeling that being so angry with her

does to me. I want to find peace for my own well being but you are

right that it just keeps resurfacing. I have had some frequent

stalking random " drive-bys " from my parents in the last 1-2 weeks so

I am feeling a pressure from them. I want to ignore it but it is as

if they are forcing me to re-draw the boundary so they can again

say, " see, we are the victim. "

You all have been talking about hating the look on her face. When I

get really mad or she gets going with emails or getting her smear

team set up to bombard me, I just picture myself going over and

hitting her. Now, I would never do this, it is just a way I picture

myself getting my frustrations out. Maybe I can use a punching bag

or something.

Has anyone sought a restraining order? How did that go? I don't

think I have legal grounds for this but it would be really nice.

patinage

> >

> > Hi Kyla and All,

> >

> > I feel the same way about and had the same kinds of

> > experiences as you described in both of your below

> > posts about The BP Stare. When I think of this part

> > of the KO experience ( " And now (drum roll) . . . The

> > KO Experience! " ), I wonder if some things are

> > unforgivable. I forgive for myself, not for

> > perpetrators, but I've wondered lately if I sometimes

> > push myself too hard to forgive some of the especially

> > bad things my FOO (and others) did to me. What do you

> > all think: are any KO (or other) experiences

> > UNforgivable? I've thought of four things that COULD

> > make some things unforgivable: severity; longevity;

> > cultural, societal, and humanitarian standards; and/or

> > number of people involved. For example, some things

> > my FOO did were severely destructive to me, lasted for

> > decades, were against the standards of my culture,

> > society, and humanity, and deliberately involved the

> > cooperation of more than one person against me.

> >

> > I understand that it can help me to continue forgiving

> > what they did. However, at times, such as when I have

> > a strong restimulation about my KO experiences, I can

> > feel overwhelmed and frustrated by spending more

> > energy trying to control my feelings of frustration,

> > aggravation and anger than I do if I just let myself

> > carry a small amount of these feelings around as a

> > motivator for myself. This is related to the

> > decades-long exhaustion I felt from trying to maintain

> > my sanity while dealing with my FOO's behavior. What

> > does everything think about this? I value your

> > feedback. Thanks.

> >

> > One Non-BP Recovering Man

> >

>

[Guest guest]

Hello, Recovering Non-BP!

Good to see you -- and what a great question. I love how you worded

it.

I can chime in with it helps me to separate the concept of

forgiveness into categories: those that truly are sorry and seek a

sincere forgiveness from me after a wrong -- and after they

apologize -- I can forgive.

However, someone who continues to hammer us, whether by their BPD

condition or they've just descended into the " just plain Evil "

category, then I can decide to NOT deal with them anymore, and to

deal with the anger and bitterness inside ME, I have to release them

for God to deal with. That's probably another form of " forgiveness "

but in my mind, it just helps to call it something else. So I call

it " releasing them to God " -- that way I'm free to stop nursing the

hurts they've done to me, free to stop hating and being angry (I'm

still working on that one!), etc.

And yes, I think sometimes people act a certain way because it was

the way of their " generation " or " culture " or whatever -- but when

they are faced with a relationship that isn't working, and they

STILL refuse to come into this generation and change their behavior

to nurture the relationship, then I have to let them go.

They can't blame EVERYTHING on " well, that's just how I was raised "

or whatever. At some point they have to step up and say " I care

about this relationship, and I'm going to do what it takes to be in

it. "

Sadly, my fada won't do that. And it hurts. He is still firmly in

nada's corner -- and blames it on everything to " that's just how it

is and I've accepted it " to " YOU are ungrateful and uncaring. "

How the heck am I supposed to overcome that? I can't. So, with

sadness and a little anger, I have to let them go. Let go of the

fantasy of a close family. It just can't work when 2 of the players

only want the rules that benefit them.

Great question, Non-BP -- it's getting me thinking!

{hugs}

Kyla

> > > >

> > > > Yes! THe scary stare -- the slow, low voice

> > through clenched

> > > > teeth......

> > > >

> > >

> > >

> > > Remember that Look, people. That was your

> > introduction to human

> > life.

> > > Remember that, and don't ever, ever let anyone

> > minimize what you

> > went

> > > through. Hell takes a lot of different forms, not

> > just the obvious

> > > war/genocide ones. Sadly, it can take individual,

> > human face too. I

> > > have to remind myself of the gifts of this

> > experience a lot--the

> > > compassion, the insight--but I've also had to

> > cease allowing

> > others to

> > > minimize my experience, for their own mental

> > comfort. They never

> > saw

> > > sheer, blank-eyed madness screeching at them. That

> > was not their

> > > introduction to life. This problem is not taken

> > near seriously

> > enough.

> > >

> > > What is it, 2% with BPD? How many millions of kids

> > were introduced

> > to

> > > human interaction through the virulently hateful

> > scary stare? This

> > is

> > > sheerly f'ed up...and the lack of acknowledgement

> > of the problem--

> > it's

> > > like the last taboo left.

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > > > WHen my mother tossed me out of the house when I

> > was a college

> > > > student, her " apology " was " I don't know what

> > got into me " --

> > > >

> > > > It was all about her. I didn't feel apologized

> > to. She didn't

> > even

> > > > begin the sentence with " I'm sorry, I don't know

> > what got into

> > me. "

> > > > She kept the focus on her -- as if to say " Look

> > how stressed I

> > am!

> > > > I even threw you out of the house! "

> > > >

> > >

> > > God, I know exactly what you mean. Like, " wow,

> > fancy that! I'm so

> > > stressed, I threw that object against the wall

> > harder than usual! "

> > > Except that the object was YOU.

> > >

> > >

> > > > Then, the cherry on top was that my dad said

> > " And calling her

> > crazy

> > > > doesn't help!! " He said it with a glare, too.

> > >

> > >

> > > Like you " helping " is more important than reality.

> > You're such a

> > bad

> > > team player.

> > >

> > >

> > > >I guess I didn't read the manual on " How to

> > > > Conduct Yourself When You're Being Thrown Out of

> > Your Home! "

> > >

> > >

> > > You're lovely, Kyla.

> > >

> > >

> > > Love,

> > > Violetta

> > >

> >

> >

> >

>

>

>

>

_____________________________________________________________________

_______________

> Park yourself in front of a world of choices in alternative

vehicles. Visit the Yahoo! Auto Green Center.

> http://autos.yahoo.com/green_center/

>

[Guest guest]

If anything is unforgivable for me, it is compelling someone to believe that

the bad thing you do to them is really a good thing.

My whacked out caregivers (more than just parents) had a hard time raising

me. I believe they wanted me to tell myself that whatever the other person does

is OK. They would ask if the sick feeling in my tummy was gone. Until it was

gone I had not forgiven and I would suffer. They would ask if the angry in my

chest was gone. Until it was gone I had not forgiven and I would suffer. My

sense of justice did not mesh with the words from their mouths. The sick feeling

in my tummy was because someone did a bad thing. The angry in my chest was

because someone did a bad thing. The caregivers said I would not be sick if I

stopped calling that thing bad. I said I would not be sick if people didn’t do

bad things to me. This would set off another round of bad things. Not terrible,

horrible awful bad things. Just, you know, not nice things. All the while saying

sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me.

Abuse is a bad thing. Calling it a not bad thing doesn’t make it so. Calling

it not a bad thing makes it acceptable and *that* is a bad thing.

Just my opinion ... EG

Recovering Non-BP wrote:

<snip> I wonder if some things are

unforgivable. I forgive for myself, not for

perpetrators, but I've wondered lately if I sometimes

push myself too hard to forgive some of the especially

bad things my FOO (and others) did to me. What do you

all think: are any KO (or other) experiences

UNforgivable?

---------------------------------

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[Guest guest]

Hi Deanna,

This realization hit me quite recently too. My mother had called

and was going on about how I must be so angry about some imagined

abuse during my childhood, and i just thought...no, it's what you're

doing now, on this phone call! I too haev thought that if her

behavior had changed - yeah, maybe we could have some kind of

relationship. but I'm not holding out for that one!

Sara

> >

> > Hi Kyla and All,

> >

> > I feel the same way about and had the same kinds of

> > experiences as you described in both of your below

> > posts about The BP Stare. When I think of this part

> > of the KO experience ( " And now (drum roll) . . . The

> > KO Experience! " ), I wonder if some things are

> > unforgivable. I forgive for myself, not for

> > perpetrators, but I've wondered lately if I sometimes

> > push myself too hard to forgive some of the especially

> > bad things my FOO (and others) did to me. What do you

> > all think: are any KO (or other) experiences

> > UNforgivable? I've thought of four things that COULD

> > make some things unforgivable: severity; longevity;

> > cultural, societal, and humanitarian standards; and/or

> > number of people involved. For example, some things

> > my FOO did were severely destructive to me, lasted for

> > decades, were against the standards of my culture,

> > society, and humanity, and deliberately involved the

> > cooperation of more than one person against me.

> >

> > I understand that it can help me to continue forgiving

> > what they did. However, at times, such as when I have

> > a strong restimulation about my KO experiences, I can

> > feel overwhelmed and frustrated by spending more

> > energy trying to control my feelings of frustration,

> > aggravation and anger than I do if I just let myself

> > carry a small amount of these feelings around as a

> > motivator for myself. This is related to the

> > decades-long exhaustion I felt from trying to maintain

> > my sanity while dealing with my FOO's behavior. What

> > does everything think about this? I value your

> > feedback. Thanks.

> >

> > One Non-BP Recovering Man

> >

>

[Guest guest]

Hi is - hmm, in a similar sick twist i am also in the same

academic field as my nada...really irritating as she always

pressured me to give her my articles so that she could publish them

under her name - or better yet write very specific ones for her to

use!! After all, she gave birth to me so I owe her that, right? LOL

Sara

>

> Hi Deanna,

>

> I'm pretty sure I know why my mother wanted to have a child (in

fact, she dropped out of grad school and her colleagues tell me all

she talked about was having a child for a while before that...in

some kind of sick twist I'm in the same obscure academic field...).

What she actually wanted was a doll to dress up and play with (but

not cry). Once I grew beyond that stage, it wasn't fun any more.

>

> is

>

>

> ---------------------------------

> Building a website is a piece of cake.

> Yahoo! Small Business gives you all the tools to get online.

>

>

[Guest guest]

Not sure if this is just me, but for the last few years i have not

been able to remember many interactions at all from my

childhood...in fact a few weeks ago i think I posted about this.

Anyway, something clicked for me recently and all of a sudden I have

access to more memories each day - so just to say that it can

change.

This group has helped me so much - thanks again to all of you!

Sara

> >

> > So I'm in the shower this morning, minding my own darn business,

> > when out of nowhere this old memory just came and slapped me in

the

> > face:

> >

> > I posted once before about the in-law apartment I lived in by

> myself

> > when I was 11-13 (was with nada for about a year before she

moved

> in

> > with her SO). Well, it was Christmas time in the year nada

stopped

> > living there, and the man who owned the home and lived in the

main

> > part of the house left me a gift basket.

> >

> > It was full of food -- not holiday treats, mind you, but FOOD:

cans

> > of tuna and soup, saltines, cereal. Completely puzzled as to why

a

> > grown (but nowhere near old enough to be senile) man would give

a

> 12

> > year old kid tuna fish for Christmas, I brought it up to nada

the

> > next time I saw her.

> >

> > Nada thought for a second and then said, " Oh! I bet he heard you

> > screaming at me on the phone when you were crying that there was

no

> > food in the house. " (Sidenote: um, that's because there was no

food

> > in the house). Then she laughed like it was the funniest thing

> she'd

> > heard all day.

> >

> > When she was done laughing, she told me to not be so loud on the

> > phone, bc obviously, I was disturbing our landlord.

> >

> > All of these memories are flooding out lately, it is so bizarre.

> >

>

[Guest guest]

Yes, exactly. The truth is I believe my nada really

didn't want to have children. Once I was " old enough "

I semmed to take over raising my siblings. That's the

bad part, try to help out and the woman would take a

mile. When I got my driver's license, I was ready to

give it back after 1 month. Go to the grocery, pick

up my dry cleaning, take your brother here and your

sister there, go to the bank.... As far as getting up

with us before school-forget it! And miss the bus, no

way-the witch would emerge so quickly it would make

your head spin!! Dinner, sometimes or I had to cook,

and then was reamed if it wasn't what she would have

fixed. I remember being in high school, running 2

kids everywhere, working part time, and

cleaning-cooking-laundry-etc. Mom came home one

evening: homework done, siblings had their baths,

house was clean and laundry done (except 2 white

shirts). She had the nerve to blast me-going on and

on about how lazy I was, and that she was too tired to

have to finish the laundry because she worked all day.

All because of 2 stupid shirts!!! Talk about an

ungrateful WITCH!!! She used to do the white glove

test after cleaning and she had better not find one

piece of lint anywhere or there would be hell to pay.

And the dumbest thing: when I folded washcloths, they

must be halved with the tags tucked and all facing the

same way. One day she found a few untucked tags and

pulled every washcloth we owned out of the closet and

threw them in the floor, telling me, " you'll fold them

again and again until you get them right! " She didn't

have enough energy to raise and love her kids, but she

certainly had plenty to mess them up!

I know that was some major ranting, but it felt

good. Goodnight. B

________________________________________________________________________________\

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[Guest guest]

No, it is not just you. Since beginning therapy and reading UBM I

have moments of memory floods. They just start rolling in like a

wave. There are still some things I try to remember and can't, but I

am sure they will all come to me sooner or later. It is funny how

our brain tries to protect us though, when you try not to think about

something, it's impossible, but as children it's like our brains just

shut out the pain. B

> > >

> > > So I'm in the shower this morning, minding my own darn

business,

> > > when out of nowhere this old memory just came and slapped me in

> the

> > > face:

> > >

> > > I posted once before about the in-law apartment I lived in by

> > myself

> > > when I was 11-13 (was with nada for about a year before she

> moved

> > in

> > > with her SO). Well, it was Christmas time in the year nada

> stopped

> > > living there, and the man who owned the home and lived in the

> main

> > > part of the house left me a gift basket.

> > >

> > > It was full of food -- not holiday treats, mind you, but FOOD:

> cans

> > > of tuna and soup, saltines, cereal. Completely puzzled as to

why

> a

> > > grown (but nowhere near old enough to be senile) man would give

> a

> > 12

> > > year old kid tuna fish for Christmas, I brought it up to nada

> the

> > > next time I saw her.

> > >

> > > Nada thought for a second and then said, " Oh! I bet he heard

you

> > > screaming at me on the phone when you were crying that there

was

> no

> > > food in the house. " (Sidenote: um, that's because there was no

> food

> > > in the house). Then she laughed like it was the funniest thing

> > she'd

> > > heard all day.

> > >

> > > When she was done laughing, she told me to not be so loud on

the

> > > phone, bc obviously, I was disturbing our landlord.

> > >

> > > All of these memories are flooding out lately, it is so bizarre.

> > >

> >

>