Re: sex, love & mortification

[Guest guest]

Thinking about what you've described, I got an odd little image in my

mind. You know that game they have at carnivals, the one you always

see in movies? There's a huge thing that looks like a giant mercury

thermometer, only it has points earned instead of degrees. There's a

huge mallet you're supposed to pick up and use to hit the base of the

thermometer. The harder you hit, the higher the ball goes in the

thermometer, the more points you score.

Now imagine one of those toys for toddlers: a small wooden bench or

box with evenly spaced holes in different shapes. There's a circle, a

square, a triangle, hexagon, trapezoid. You're supposed to put the

square peg in the square hole, the round one in the circular hole, etc.

I see the layered abuse as nada/fada repeatedly banging that enormous

mallet at the base of that giant thermometer. Only this time, the base

is a circular hole, and she keeps banging a square peg into it. She

doesn't realize or doesn't care that the square peg can't fit into a

circular hole. In fact, this only spurs her on... she keeps banging

that peg harder and harder because she's hell bent on getting it in

there. As she gets angrier and whacks it harder and more violently,

that peg is going to fracture, bits of wood splintering off and

falling to the floor. Eventually, she'll force it into the circular

hole. Then she'll wonder why the peg won't come out...

qwerty

>

> I have been thinking about a particular enduring effect of the BP

> family experience that for me is important but is very hard to put

> into words. Because it is so difficult to describe, I feel that it

> doesn't get talked about enough. It would be good if we could create

> some language or a metaphor that can articulate this concept.

>

> It has to do with chaining or compounding, about piling abuses on top

> of abuses.

[Guest guest]

I like that metaphor, qwerty. Describes my nada perfectly, though I have one

thing to add. When she gets bored and walks away for a second (I don't know, to

get a cotton candy?) she expects a brand-new peg waiting for her, no damage. If

she comes back to the same one she spintered before, it just infuriates her

further.

Re: sex, love & mortification

Thinking about what you've described, I got an odd little image in my

mind. You know that game they have at carnivals, the one you always

see in movies? There's a huge thing that looks like a giant mercury

thermometer, only it has points earned instead of degrees. There's a

huge mallet you're supposed to pick up and use to hit the base of the

thermometer. The harder you hit, the higher the ball goes in the

thermometer, the more points you score.

Now imagine one of those toys for toddlers: a small wooden bench or

box with evenly spaced holes in different shapes. There's a circle, a

square, a triangle, hexagon, trapezoid. You're supposed to put the

square peg in the square hole, the round one in the circular hole, etc.

I see the layered abuse as nada/fada repeatedly banging that enormous

mallet at the base of that giant thermometer. Only this time, the base

is a circular hole, and she keeps banging a square peg into it. She

doesn't realize or doesn't care that the square peg can't fit into a

circular hole. In fact, this only spurs her on... she keeps banging

that peg harder and harder because she's hell bent on getting it in

there. As she gets angrier and whacks it harder and more violently,

that peg is going to fracture, bits of wood splintering off and

falling to the floor. Eventually, she'll force it into the circular

hole. Then she'll wonder why the peg won't come out...

qwerty

>

> I have been thinking about a particular enduring effect of the BP

> family experience that for me is important but is very hard to put

> into words. Because it is so difficult to describe, I feel that it

> doesn't get talked about enough. It would be good if we could create

> some language or a metaphor that can articulate this concept.

>

> It has to do with chaining or compounding, about piling abuses on top

> of abuses.

________________________________________________________________________________\

____

Never miss a thing. Make Yahoo your home page.

http://www.yahoo.com/r/hs

[Guest guest]

> Your description of multiple layers of abuse was like a madeleine

> cookie to Proust. I went back to that old familiar feeling which I

> symbolize as an enormous weight crushing my body. The knowledge that

> if nothing bad is happening now, it surely will very soon. The

> low-level, constant depression that taints everything I see and feel

> like a thick layer of dust on furniture. Barely feeling anything at

> all, going about life sleepwalking--there but not.

Beautiful writing, Qwerty. Strangely, my grilfriend was

telling me about Proust's Madeleine cookie just recently,

that his momentary sensory impression launched a whole

series of books. Amazing stuff.

Another aspect of these multiple layers of abuse is that

what the KO is experiencing is vastly more complex or

complicated than what others nearby are feeling. When

nada rages about KO's clothing, KO has a whole host of

socio-political-ethical-sexual-religious-self-image issues

that s/he is trying to work through. But nada will always

be swift in simplifying it all into something trivial:

It's just a freakin' shirt, so freakin' wear it, and nobody

gives a freak what you're wearin' anyway! This denial

of the legitimate nuances of a situation is further

denial of KO's reality and relevance. What you are

feeling is wrong and has no significance. And what's

really happening is that nada doesn't get it, but

punishes KO (for getting it). Oy these layers ...

Thanks for writing,

[Guest guest]

This is so scary true!!!

" When she gets bored and walks away for a second (I don't know, to

get a cotton candy?) she expects a brand-new peg waiting for her, no

damage. If she comes back to the same one she spintered before, it

just infuriates her further. "

You are forced to suck it up.....repair yourself....get over it etc,

etc.

I think we all could make for good actors......too bad I don't like

to be infront of a camera ;0) Flea perhaps???

drlingirl

> >

> > I have been thinking about a particular enduring effect of the BP

> > family experience that for me is important but is very hard to

put

> > into words. Because it is so difficult to describe, I feel that

it

> > doesn't get talked about enough. It would be good if we could

create

> > some language or a metaphor that can articulate this concept.

> >

> > It has to do with chaining or compounding, about piling abuses

on top

> > of abuses.

>

>

>

>

>

>

_____________________________________________________________________

_______________

> Never miss a thing. Make Yahoo your home page.

> http://www.yahoo.com/r/hs

>

>

[Guest guest]

Wow. This post has taken so many twists and turns. I sat fascinated

and read it all identifying with most of it. I don't post often,

usually just read but this one has brought me out of the woodwork.

Just a quick background, I was raised by nada only (and am her only

child). Her and my father split when I was 2. I just recently (January

'07) realized that my nada was BPD or at the very least had traits of.

I have been NC since May. I celebrated my 30th birthday in August and

considered it my liberation from nada and my past. My time to finally

be me, claim my life, and really live my life.

I can't believe I am going to open up this much about this, but I know

that this is a safe place. I have had some weird sexual things to

overcome that stem from things nada did. I remember once having a

healthy curiosity about my own body as a child and her making sure

that stopped quickly. She went out and got some book about how

masturbation was a bad thing and how it could become an

addiction.....it even went on to discuss how it was a sin. She left

said book out where I could find it and I remember reading it late one

night when she was asleep and feeling the embarrassment and scorn just

envelop me. That was the moment my sexual being started to die a slow

death. Even worse was that the same rule didn't apply to her. I would

hear her at night in her room all alone. After reading that book I

would get scared when this would happen. So fearful that she was going

to go to hell, I would lay in bed and tremble and cry. It was such a

mixed message to send to a young child (8 or 9 at the time). My bed

used to be on the same wall as hers. I remember finally insisting that

I move my bed across my room. I made up some excuse why but in reality

it was so that I didn't have to hear her pleasure herself so clearly.

Yikes!

She was always very invasive with personal boundaries too. She would

walk around naked all the time and it always made me so uncomfortable.

Especially after sending such a negative message about the human body

to me. More than once she had to rush to put a house coat on because a

friend stopped by. Talk about embarrassing! UGH!! I had no personal

space to speak of, she would walk in on me in the bathroom or shower

without knocking. If I had locked the door in an attempt for

privacy....well, she would rage and get so mad. Pounding and screaming

at the door to let me in. How dare I lock the door! Yet of course, it

was fine for her to do so and I would never dream of invading on her

when she was in the bathroom anyway.

I was molested as a child. I was about 5 or 6 when it happened. It

only happened once that I remember. It was my babysitters son. She had

left us alone to go to the store. I was home sick from school that

day. I still don't recall everything that happened that day and figure

that it is better I don't. What I do recall is enough. No child should

ever feel that feeling that comes with total violation like that. I

did tell nada too later that night. She freaked out like the world had

ended. After that she took me to the hospital where I was forced to

undergo an exam by a doctor with 2 police*MEN* present. *shivers* That

to me was even yet more invasive than what had happened at the

babysitters house. She wasn't even in the room with me and I was

terrified, crying, and even pleading with the doctor to stop. Since I

was a child I had no say in the matter and they just pressed on

checking to see exactly what occurred that day and doing a rape kit.

That has to be one of the scariest memories of my childhood and has me

quivering just typing about it. After that invasion she actually

forced me into therapy. The therapy was terrible too - some group

thing for kids of sexual abuse. We were forced to do these weird

exercises and talk about what happened. I was so young I just wanted

the nightmare to be over but I had to keep reliving it multiple times

a week until the therapist deemed me fit to stop. She would pick me up

and I would be crying buckets begging her not to force me to go back.

All that would come out of my pleading was that I was being too

dramatic and she was doing this for my own good.

My first sexual relationship ended up being with a man who is also

BPD. It was a terrible relationship. He raped me on more than one

occasion. He also resorted to mental and emotional abuse as well. I

was very lucky to get out of that one and get away from that man. I

found out from a friend that he was recently arrested for child

pornography (producing) and molestation. Made me all the more thankful

for the wonderful man I ended up with.

I am so thankful for my husband and our marriage. It is the bright

spot of my life. To see what I have gone through and overcome amazes

me sometimes. I still carry many battle scars but as the years go on

they seem to get less troublesome. I do still have some issues with

sexuality and I know that. I enjoy being with my husband in that way

but sometimes my abused / irrational brain pops out and tries to tell

me that what we are doing is wrong. I know it is not, we love each

other very much. It is a beautiful and natural thing to share with

someone! Believe it or not, his mother is BPD too (and he is an only

child as well). Like really does attract like. It is nice at the end

of the day to really understand him and where he came from and to have

him understand me so well and where I came from. It really seems to

just bring us that much closer together.

This brings me to the diary/note thing too. I completely feel for all

of you that went through that. My nada was terrible there as well. She

would constantly pick the lock on my diary and read it. She would also

go looking for notes to / from friends / boyfriends and read them all.

She would go through my purse and backpack to find them. If there was

something in my diary/notes she didn't like I would get in trouble for

it as well. I remember once she called my school guidance counselor

about something she read in a note. He called me into his office to

discuss it with me and tell me how concerned my mother was. Concerned

my ass, it just served her own agenda and got her the attention she so

loves to get.

She did a pretty good job of killing any semblance of self worth I had

too. I was so passionate about things as a kid - writing, reading,

science. She killed my love for writing like others here because I had

no choice but to stop. Reading I never let her take from me. That was

always my escape. I was reading as early as I could and always just

poured through books. It was my safe haven and the only time I ever

really felt happy or normal was when I was deep in a book and could

forget about her and my life. I still love to read although now just

because I enjoy a good story. I no longer have to run from my life.

She tore my love of science away from me too. Letting me know that I

could never accomplish becoming something so difficult. I just didn't

have it in me, wasn't smart enough, etc. When it was time to go to

college she chose not to support me. I started to take classes just

after high school and didn't make it past the first 2 weeks of class.

I was SO bored! A year later I tried again, a different college, same

major...Accounting (yup, NOT science). I did great in school and loved

it but when I found out I couldn't afford to continue attending (loans

ran out and I didn't get financial aid because of her income), I had

no choice but to cut my education short. I cried, and cried. I was

just distraught. She could have helped me with a parental loan that I

would have been responsible for paying back but nope - said she didn't

want to and couldn't trust me to pay it back. There's love for ya!

In 2001 I was finally free of her as far as the State was concerned

and no longer had to count her income. This meant I qualified for

financial aid. I remember being so excited I enrolled immediately. I

called her and the first thing she said was that she wasn't helping me

financially!! Not, I am proud of you, not you can do this. Then came

the day when I decided to go back to the college I had started at the

year after high school. I wasn't happy where I was and remembered

being very happy at the other place. OMG! She went nuts on me. She

insisted I was so, so, so unhappy there. She remembered me crying

because I hated it. Um....no, that crying was because I had to stop

going. She was not at all happy with my decision but I did it anyway.

I graduated with a degree 2 years later (2003) and then she was

suddenly so proud of me. She raised such a smart daughter and just

knew I would be so successful. I think the true crowing moment for her

was when I landed a state job just like her (only different career

paths) and was miserable at said job, just like she was. She was so

happy for me then - no surprise there. She loved nothing more than

hearing about how bad things were or how unhappy I was. Finally my

wonderful husband said I had to stop this mess and not go back. He was

the one in my life who really supported me then and told me he hated

to see me so miserable. We sat down and looked at our finances and

discovered that we could afford for me to take some time off of

working. She hated that decision and criticized us. Not quite openly,

but in that lovely veiled way that leaves you feeling uncertain, maybe

a bit unstable, and like you just got hit by a mack truck - all the

same time wondering if you are imagining it all.

I have known for a long time that I wanted to go back to school. My

previous degree was in Paralegal Studies and was really something I

just grasped at because I had limited degree options with the college

I chose to go to. My biggest limitation was that I owed the college I

went to in 2001 (before transferring to the one I graduated from)

money. They wouldn't release my transcript so I couldn't go back to

school. Recently I became very good friends with a woman my husband

grew up with. It started with us helping them move in May because no

one else was available and she was preggo with twins. We have since

become very, very close. I adore time I spend with her and just love

their kids as well. They are such a happy functioning family and it is

a really nice environment to be in. Well, I happened to mention to her

about wanting to go back to school and what was holding me back. This

wonderful woman offered to loan us the money to get it paid now so I

could start classes in January! We have money coming in year end and

would have been able to pay it ourselves then but I would have had to

wait until Fall to start classes then. I am still amazed when I think

about this - it really is one of the nicest things anyone has ever

done. I am starting at a local community college to get some of the

requirements met to transfer to the college I really want to go to. I

am going back for my first love, science - Bioinformatics & Molecular

Biology! I am going to start with my Bachelors degree and then proceed

with the Masters as I will have much more career choice that way.

I am excited, and scared, and nervous, and I just can't wait to start

in January with my first lab class. I feel like I have come so far in

this year just by distancing myself from my nada. I feel confident

that I can do this and have even built a great new support system. Not

only is my friend and her husband in my corner but her mother is as

well. I have become close with her too and when she found out what her

daughter did for me and that I would be starting in January she told

me how proud of me she was. No conditions on it at all - just that she

was proud and knew that I could do it. She also told me that she

couldn't wait to see what I was going to become!!! I wanted to cry

when she said that to me! Little does she know how very deeply she

touched me. Then, there is my wonderful husband too. I know that with

him by my side I can do anything! I am finally becoming the woman I

always wanted to be. It is never to late to really follow through with

your dreams. I would be doing this even if I was 50. It is my time now

and I want to be happy and to truly live and enjoy my life. I am so

done and so over all the misery I have dealt with for 30 years! Oh

yeah, and I am changing my first and middle name too - a true

recreation for me. Like shedding an old skin! I am no longer my nada's

puppet, I am now my own person!

I want to thank all of you for being here too and for the openness and

honesty that you all share. You have helped me so much just from

reading this list on a daily basis.

Hugs to all,

Maeghan

[Guest guest]

Maeghan,

You sound like an amazing woman!!! You are so lucky to have such

good friends and a husband who has been " through it " with you.

I think you have a bright future for yourself mapped out. You truly

are a success KO story!!! You should be proud of yourself!!!

Keep posting and sharing, drlingirl

>

> Wow. This post has taken so many twists and turns. I sat

fascinated

> and read it all identifying with most of it. I don't post often,

> usually just read but this one has brought me out of the

woodwork.

> Just a quick background, I was raised by nada only (and am her

only

> child). Her and my father split when I was 2. I just recently

(January

> '07) realized that my nada was BPD or at the very least had traits

of.

> I have been NC since May. I celebrated my 30th birthday in August

and

> considered it my liberation from nada and my past. My time to

finally

> be me, claim my life, and really live my life.

>

> I can't believe I am going to open up this much about this, but I

know

> that this is a safe place. I have had some weird sexual things to

> overcome that stem from things nada did. I remember once having a

> healthy curiosity about my own body as a child and her making

sure

> that stopped quickly. She went out and got some book about how

> masturbation was a bad thing and how it could become an

> addiction.....it even went on to discuss how it was a sin. She

left

> said book out where I could find it and I remember reading it late

one

> night when she was asleep and feeling the embarrassment and scorn

just

> envelop me. That was the moment my sexual being started to die a

slow

> death. Even worse was that the same rule didn't apply to her. I

would

> hear her at night in her room all alone. After reading that book

I

> would get scared when this would happen. So fearful that she was

going

> to go to hell, I would lay in bed and tremble and cry. It was such

a

> mixed message to send to a young child (8 or 9 at the time). My

bed

> used to be on the same wall as hers. I remember finally insisting

that

> I move my bed across my room. I made up some excuse why but in

reality

> it was so that I didn't have to hear her pleasure herself so

clearly.

> Yikes!

>

> She was always very invasive with personal boundaries too. She

would

> walk around naked all the time and it always made me so

uncomfortable.

> Especially after sending such a negative message about the human

body

> to me. More than once she had to rush to put a house coat on

because a

> friend stopped by. Talk about embarrassing! UGH!! I had no

personal

> space to speak of, she would walk in on me in the bathroom or

shower

> without knocking. If I had locked the door in an attempt for

> privacy....well, she would rage and get so mad. Pounding and

screaming

> at the door to let me in. How dare I lock the door! Yet of course,

it

> was fine for her to do so and I would never dream of invading on

her

> when she was in the bathroom anyway.

>

> I was molested as a child. I was about 5 or 6 when it happened.

It

> only happened once that I remember. It was my babysitters son. She

had

> left us alone to go to the store. I was home sick from school

that

> day. I still don't recall everything that happened that day and

figure

> that it is better I don't. What I do recall is enough. No child

should

> ever feel that feeling that comes with total violation like that.

I

> did tell nada too later that night. She freaked out like the world

had

> ended. After that she took me to the hospital where I was forced

to

> undergo an exam by a doctor with 2 police*MEN* present. *shivers*

That

> to me was even yet more invasive than what had happened at the

> babysitters house. She wasn't even in the room with me and I was

> terrified, crying, and even pleading with the doctor to stop.

Since I

> was a child I had no say in the matter and they just pressed on

> checking to see exactly what occurred that day and doing a rape

kit.

> That has to be one of the scariest memories of my childhood and

has me

> quivering just typing about it. After that invasion she actually

> forced me into therapy. The therapy was terrible too - some group

> thing for kids of sexual abuse. We were forced to do these weird

> exercises and talk about what happened. I was so young I just

wanted

> the nightmare to be over but I had to keep reliving it multiple

times

> a week until the therapist deemed me fit to stop. She would pick

me up

> and I would be crying buckets begging her not to force me to go

back.

> All that would come out of my pleading was that I was being too

> dramatic and she was doing this for my own good.

>

> My first sexual relationship ended up being with a man who is

also

> BPD. It was a terrible relationship. He raped me on more than one

> occasion. He also resorted to mental and emotional abuse as well.

I

> was very lucky to get out of that one and get away from that man.

I

> found out from a friend that he was recently arrested for child

> pornography (producing) and molestation. Made me all the more

thankful

> for the wonderful man I ended up with.

>

> I am so thankful for my husband and our marriage. It is the

bright

> spot of my life. To see what I have gone through and overcome

amazes

> me sometimes. I still carry many battle scars but as the years go

on

> they seem to get less troublesome. I do still have some issues

with

> sexuality and I know that. I enjoy being with my husband in that

way

> but sometimes my abused / irrational brain pops out and tries to

tell

> me that what we are doing is wrong. I know it is not, we love

each

> other very much. It is a beautiful and natural thing to share

with

> someone! Believe it or not, his mother is BPD too (and he is an

only

> child as well). Like really does attract like. It is nice at the

end

> of the day to really understand him and where he came from and to

have

> him understand me so well and where I came from. It really seems

to

> just bring us that much closer together.

>

> This brings me to the diary/note thing too. I completely feel for

all

> of you that went through that. My nada was terrible there as well.

She

> would constantly pick the lock on my diary and read it. She would

also

> go looking for notes to / from friends / boyfriends and read them

all.

> She would go through my purse and backpack to find them. If there

was

> something in my diary/notes she didn't like I would get in trouble

for

> it as well. I remember once she called my school guidance

counselor

> about something she read in a note. He called me into his office

to

> discuss it with me and tell me how concerned my mother was.

Concerned

> my ass, it just served her own agenda and got her the attention

she so

> loves to get.

>

> She did a pretty good job of killing any semblance of self worth I

had

> too. I was so passionate about things as a kid - writing,

reading,

> science. She killed my love for writing like others here because I

had

> no choice but to stop. Reading I never let her take from me. That

was

> always my escape. I was reading as early as I could and always

just

> poured through books. It was my safe haven and the only time I

ever

> really felt happy or normal was when I was deep in a book and

could

> forget about her and my life. I still love to read although now

just

> because I enjoy a good story. I no longer have to run from my

life.

> She tore my love of science away from me too. Letting me know that

I

> could never accomplish becoming something so difficult. I just

didn't

> have it in me, wasn't smart enough, etc. When it was time to go

to

> college she chose not to support me. I started to take classes

just

> after high school and didn't make it past the first 2 weeks of

class.

> I was SO bored! A year later I tried again, a different college,

same

> major...Accounting (yup, NOT science). I did great in school and

loved

> it but when I found out I couldn't afford to continue attending

(loans

> ran out and I didn't get financial aid because of her income), I

had

> no choice but to cut my education short. I cried, and cried. I

was

> just distraught. She could have helped me with a parental loan

that I

> would have been responsible for paying back but nope - said she

didn't

> want to and couldn't trust me to pay it back. There's love for ya!

>

> In 2001 I was finally free of her as far as the State was

concerned

> and no longer had to count her income. This meant I qualified for

> financial aid. I remember being so excited I enrolled immediately.

I

> called her and the first thing she said was that she wasn't

helping me

> financially!! Not, I am proud of you, not you can do this. Then

came

> the day when I decided to go back to the college I had started at

the

> year after high school. I wasn't happy where I was and remembered

> being very happy at the other place. OMG! She went nuts on me.

She

> insisted I was so, so, so unhappy there. She remembered me crying

> because I hated it. Um....no, that crying was because I had to

stop

> going. She was not at all happy with my decision but I did it

anyway.

> I graduated with a degree 2 years later (2003) and then she was

> suddenly so proud of me. She raised such a smart daughter and

just

> knew I would be so successful. I think the true crowing moment for

her

> was when I landed a state job just like her (only different

career

> paths) and was miserable at said job, just like she was. She was

so

> happy for me then - no surprise there. She loved nothing more

than

> hearing about how bad things were or how unhappy I was. Finally

my

> wonderful husband said I had to stop this mess and not go back. He

was

> the one in my life who really supported me then and told me he

hated

> to see me so miserable. We sat down and looked at our finances

and

> discovered that we could afford for me to take some time off of

> working. She hated that decision and criticized us. Not quite

openly,

> but in that lovely veiled way that leaves you feeling uncertain,

maybe

> a bit unstable, and like you just got hit by a mack truck - all

the

> same time wondering if you are imagining it all.

>

> I have known for a long time that I wanted to go back to school.

My

> previous degree was in Paralegal Studies and was really something

I

> just grasped at because I had limited degree options with the

college

> I chose to go to. My biggest limitation was that I owed the

college I

> went to in 2001 (before transferring to the one I graduated from)

> money. They wouldn't release my transcript so I couldn't go back

to

> school. Recently I became very good friends with a woman my

husband

> grew up with. It started with us helping them move in May because

no

> one else was available and she was preggo with twins. We have

since

> become very, very close. I adore time I spend with her and just

love

> their kids as well. They are such a happy functioning family and

it is

> a really nice environment to be in. Well, I happened to mention to

her

> about wanting to go back to school and what was holding me back.

This

> wonderful woman offered to loan us the money to get it paid now so

I

> could start classes in January! We have money coming in year end

and

> would have been able to pay it ourselves then but I would have had

to

> wait until Fall to start classes then. I am still amazed when I

think

> about this - it really is one of the nicest things anyone has

ever

> done. I am starting at a local community college to get some of

the

> requirements met to transfer to the college I really want to go

to. I

> am going back for my first love, science - Bioinformatics &

Molecular

> Biology! I am going to start with my Bachelors degree and then

proceed

> with the Masters as I will have much more career choice that way.

>

> I am excited, and scared, and nervous, and I just can't wait to

start

> in January with my first lab class. I feel like I have come so far

in

> this year just by distancing myself from my nada. I feel

confident

> that I can do this and have even built a great new support system.

Not

> only is my friend and her husband in my corner but her mother is

as

> well. I have become close with her too and when she found out what

her

> daughter did for me and that I would be starting in January she

told

> me how proud of me she was. No conditions on it at all - just that

she

> was proud and knew that I could do it. She also told me that she

> couldn't wait to see what I was going to become!!! I wanted to

cry

> when she said that to me! Little does she know how very deeply

she

> touched me. Then, there is my wonderful husband too. I know that

with

> him by my side I can do anything! I am finally becoming the woman

I

> always wanted to be. It is never to late to really follow through

with

> your dreams. I would be doing this even if I was 50. It is my time

now

> and I want to be happy and to truly live and enjoy my life. I am

so

> done and so over all the misery I have dealt with for 30 years!

Oh

> yeah, and I am changing my first and middle name too - a true

> recreation for me. Like shedding an old skin! I am no longer my

nada's

> puppet, I am now my own person!

>

> I want to thank all of you for being here too and for the openness

and

> honesty that you all share. You have helped me so much just from

> reading this list on a daily basis.

>

> Hugs to all,

> Maeghan

>

[Guest guest]

That was a wonderful story, Maeghan!!

I actually printed it out. I posted just yesterday about how devastating it was

for me to leave college, and left out most of the details, and now it's like you

wrote it for me! My loans ran out too, something to do with my credit-to-debt

ratio, and in my case my father's income was too high, but both parents denied

support. Nada helped out a little with living expenses the first year, but the

human cost of the money (my guilt and suffering) was too high and I put a stop

to that. Now I want to go back so badly, but like you I owe my previous

university a big ol' heap of money and they won't release my transcript until

it's paid.

I really hope the rest of my story turns out like yours. That's why I printed it

out. I want to show my partner what you've done and what I could do, and to keep

for inspiration when I feel like I can't possibly do it. I printed out another

post ('s reply, thanks, girl!) for the same reason.

On that, I can't believe I didn't post anything about college earlier. I guess I

figured it wasn't an appropriate post. But I feel a million times better about

it already! You guys have really given me the boost of confidence I needed. In

fact, I came home last night and announced to my partner that practicality de

damned, I AM going back to school and it WILL BE my original degree:

history/linguistics/literature. I was considering taking my degree in human

resources or IT, to better provide for my little family and future kids, though

I have only a minimal interest in those, but this IS my dream and it should be

the way I want it. I can provide for the people I love no matter what job I

have. I've done it up to this point, and on a very meager salary. A degree will

help me get a better (and higher paying) job, no matter what subject it's in.

And my future children, if any, will better served by having parents who are

happy and fulfilled in their

careers, not making plenty of money but miserably cataloging lost dreams. I

think it's more important for a mom to be an example, not just a provider. Nada

'brought home the bacon', but I needed a lot more than that: love, support,

safety.

I made another decision too. College is the one thing I want most and I

certainly don't need any junk. I'm going to tell everyone who intends to get me

a gift for the holidays or my birthday (beginning of January, so it's close) to

write a check to the university to be paid against my debt. That way they can

all help get me what I really, really, REALLY want, instead of a basket of bath

soaps.

And again, Maeghan, you're a very impressive woman. You've come so far, so

kudos! And thanks for showing me that it can be done!

Jae

Re: sex, love & mortification

Maeghan,

You sound like an amazing woman!!! You are so lucky to have such

good friends and a husband who has been " through it " with you.

I think you have a bright future for yourself mapped out. You truly

are a success KO story!!! You should be proud of yourself!!!

Keep posting and sharing, drlingirl

>

> Wow. This post has taken so many twists and turns. I sat

fascinated

> and read it all identifying with most of it. I don't post often,

> usually just read but this one has brought me out of the

woodwork.

> Just a quick background, I was raised by nada only (and am her

only

> child). Her and my father split when I was 2. I just recently

(January

> '07) realized that my nada was BPD or at the very least had traits

of.

> I have been NC since May. I celebrated my 30th birthday in August

and

> considered it my liberation from nada and my past. My time to

finally

> be me, claim my life, and really live my life.

>

> I can't believe I am going to open up this much about this, but I

know

> that this is a safe place. I have had some weird sexual things to

> overcome that stem from things nada did. I remember once having a

> healthy curiosity about my own body as a child and her making

sure

> that stopped quickly. She went out and got some book about how

> masturbation was a bad thing and how it could become an

> addiction... ..it even went on to discuss how it was a sin. She

left

> said book out where I could find it and I remember reading it late

one

> night when she was asleep and feeling the embarrassment and scorn

just

> envelop me. That was the moment my sexual being started to die a

slow

> death. Even worse was that the same rule didn't apply to her. I

would

> hear her at night in her room all alone. After reading that book

I

> would get scared when this would happen. So fearful that she was

going

> to go to hell, I would lay in bed and tremble and cry. It was such

a

> mixed message to send to a young child (8 or 9 at the time). My

bed

> used to be on the same wall as hers. I remember finally insisting

that

> I move my bed across my room. I made up some excuse why but in

reality

> it was so that I didn't have to hear her pleasure herself so

clearly.

> Yikes!

>

> She was always very invasive with personal boundaries too. She

would

> walk around naked all the time and it always made me so

uncomfortable.

> Especially after sending such a negative message about the human

body

> to me. More than once she had to rush to put a house coat on

because a

> friend stopped by. Talk about embarrassing! UGH!! I had no

personal

> space to speak of, she would walk in on me in the bathroom or

shower

> without knocking. If I had locked the door in an attempt for

> privacy....well, she would rage and get so mad. Pounding and

screaming

> at the door to let me in. How dare I lock the door! Yet of course,

it

> was fine for her to do so and I would never dream of invading on

her

> when she was in the bathroom anyway.

>

> I was molested as a child. I was about 5 or 6 when it happened.

It

> only happened once that I remember. It was my babysitters son. She

had

> left us alone to go to the store. I was home sick from school

that

> day. I still don't recall everything that happened that day and

figure

> that it is better I don't. What I do recall is enough. No child

should

> ever feel that feeling that comes with total violation like that.

I

> did tell nada too later that night. She freaked out like the world

had

> ended. After that she took me to the hospital where I was forced

to

> undergo an exam by a doctor with 2 police*MEN* present. *shivers*

That

> to me was even yet more invasive than what had happened at the

> babysitters house. She wasn't even in the room with me and I was

> terrified, crying, and even pleading with the doctor to stop.

Since I

> was a child I had no say in the matter and they just pressed on

> checking to see exactly what occurred that day and doing a rape

kit.

> That has to be one of the scariest memories of my childhood and

has me

> quivering just typing about it. After that invasion she actually

> forced me into therapy. The therapy was terrible too - some group

> thing for kids of sexual abuse. We were forced to do these weird

> exercises and talk about what happened. I was so young I just

wanted

> the nightmare to be over but I had to keep reliving it multiple

times

> a week until the therapist deemed me fit to stop. She would pick

me up

> and I would be crying buckets begging her not to force me to go

back.

> All that would come out of my pleading was that I was being too

> dramatic and she was doing this for my own good.

>

> My first sexual relationship ended up being with a man who is

also

> BPD. It was a terrible relationship. He raped me on more than one

> occasion. He also resorted to mental and emotional abuse as well.

I

> was very lucky to get out of that one and get away from that man.

I

> found out from a friend that he was recently arrested for child

> pornography (producing) and molestation. Made me all the more

thankful

> for the wonderful man I ended up with.

>

> I am so thankful for my husband and our marriage. It is the

bright

> spot of my life. To see what I have gone through and overcome

amazes

> me sometimes. I still carry many battle scars but as the years go

on

> they seem to get less troublesome. I do still have some issues

with

> sexuality and I know that. I enjoy being with my husband in that

way

> but sometimes my abused / irrational brain pops out and tries to

tell

> me that what we are doing is wrong. I know it is not, we love

each

> other very much. It is a beautiful and natural thing to share

with

> someone! Believe it or not, his mother is BPD too (and he is an

only

> child as well). Like really does attract like. It is nice at the

end

> of the day to really understand him and where he came from and to

have

> him understand me so well and where I came from. It really seems

to

> just bring us that much closer together.

>

> This brings me to the diary/note thing too. I completely feel for

all

> of you that went through that. My nada was terrible there as well.

She

> would constantly pick the lock on my diary and read it. She would

also

> go looking for notes to / from friends / boyfriends and read them

all.

> She would go through my purse and backpack to find them. If there

was

> something in my diary/notes she didn't like I would get in trouble

for

> it as well. I remember once she called my school guidance

counselor

> about something she read in a note. He called me into his office

to

> discuss it with me and tell me how concerned my mother was.

Concerned

> my ass, it just served her own agenda and got her the attention

she so

> loves to get.

>

> She did a pretty good job of killing any semblance of self worth I

had

> too. I was so passionate about things as a kid - writing,

reading,

> science. She killed my love for writing like others here because I

had

> no choice but to stop. Reading I never let her take from me. That

was

> always my escape. I was reading as early as I could and always

just

> poured through books. It was my safe haven and the only time I

ever

> really felt happy or normal was when I was deep in a book and

could

> forget about her and my life. I still love to read although now

just

> because I enjoy a good story. I no longer have to run from my

life.

> She tore my love of science away from me too. Letting me know that

I

> could never accomplish becoming something so difficult. I just

didn't

> have it in me, wasn't smart enough, etc. When it was time to go

to

> college she chose not to support me. I started to take classes

just

> after high school and didn't make it past the first 2 weeks of

class.

> I was SO bored! A year later I tried again, a different college,

same

> major...Accounting (yup, NOT science). I did great in school and

loved

> it but when I found out I couldn't afford to continue attending

(loans

> ran out and I didn't get financial aid because of her income), I

had

> no choice but to cut my education short. I cried, and cried. I

was

> just distraught. She could have helped me with a parental loan

that I

> would have been responsible for paying back but nope - said she

didn't

> want to and couldn't trust me to pay it back. There's love for ya!

>

> In 2001 I was finally free of her as far as the State was

concerned

> and no longer had to count her income. This meant I qualified for

> financial aid. I remember being so excited I enrolled immediately.

I

> called her and the first thing she said was that she wasn't

helping me

> financially! ! Not, I am proud of you, not you can do this. Then

came

> the day when I decided to go back to the college I had started at

the

> year after high school. I wasn't happy where I was and remembered

> being very happy at the other place. OMG! She went nuts on me.

She

> insisted I was so, so, so unhappy there. She remembered me crying

> because I hated it. Um....no, that crying was because I had to

stop

> going. She was not at all happy with my decision but I did it

anyway.

> I graduated with a degree 2 years later (2003) and then she was

> suddenly so proud of me. She raised such a smart daughter and

just

> knew I would be so successful. I think the true crowing moment for

her

> was when I landed a state job just like her (only different

career

> paths) and was miserable at said job, just like she was. She was

so

> happy for me then - no surprise there. She loved nothing more

than

> hearing about how bad things were or how unhappy I was. Finally

my

> wonderful husband said I had to stop this mess and not go back. He

was

> the one in my life who really supported me then and told me he

hated

> to see me so miserable. We sat down and looked at our finances

and

> discovered that we could afford for me to take some time off of

> working. She hated that decision and criticized us. Not quite

openly,

> but in that lovely veiled way that leaves you feeling uncertain,

maybe

> a bit unstable, and like you just got hit by a mack truck - all

the

> same time wondering if you are imagining it all.

>

> I have known for a long time that I wanted to go back to school.

My

> previous degree was in Paralegal Studies and was really something

I

> just grasped at because I had limited degree options with the

college

> I chose to go to. My biggest limitation was that I owed the

college I

> went to in 2001 (before transferring to the one I graduated from)

> money. They wouldn't release my transcript so I couldn't go back

to

> school. Recently I became very good friends with a woman my

husband

> grew up with. It started with us helping them move in May because

no

> one else was available and she was preggo with twins. We have

since

> become very, very close. I adore time I spend with her and just

love

> their kids as well. They are such a happy functioning family and

it is

> a really nice environment to be in. Well, I happened to mention to

her

> about wanting to go back to school and what was holding me back.

This

> wonderful woman offered to loan us the money to get it paid now so

I

> could start classes in January! We have money coming in year end

and

> would have been able to pay it ourselves then but I would have had

to

> wait until Fall to start classes then. I am still amazed when I

think

> about this - it really is one of the nicest things anyone has

ever

> done. I am starting at a local community college to get some of

the

> requirements met to transfer to the college I really want to go

to. I

> am going back for my first love, science - Bioinformatics &

Molecular

> Biology! I am going to start with my Bachelors degree and then

proceed

> with the Masters as I will have much more career choice that way.

>

> I am excited, and scared, and nervous, and I just can't wait to

start

> in January with my first lab class. I feel like I have come so far

in

> this year just by distancing myself from my nada. I feel

confident

> that I can do this and have even built a great new support system.

Not

> only is my friend and her husband in my corner but her mother is

as

> well. I have become close with her too and when she found out what

her

> daughter did for me and that I would be starting in January she

told

> me how proud of me she was. No conditions on it at all - just that

she

> was proud and knew that I could do it. She also told me that she

> couldn't wait to see what I was going to become!!! I wanted to

cry

> when she said that to me! Little does she know how very deeply

she

> touched me. Then, there is my wonderful husband too. I know that

with

> him by my side I can do anything! I am finally becoming the woman

I

> always wanted to be. It is never to late to really follow through

with

> your dreams. I would be doing this even if I was 50. It is my time

now

> and I want to be happy and to truly live and enjoy my life. I am

so

> done and so over all the misery I have dealt with for 30 years!

Oh

> yeah, and I am changing my first and middle name too - a true

> recreation for me. Like shedding an old skin! I am no longer my

nada's

> puppet, I am now my own person!

>

> I want to thank all of you for being here too and for the openness

and

> honesty that you all share. You have helped me so much just from

> reading this list on a daily basis.

>

> Hugs to all,

> Maeghan

>

________________________________________________________________________________\

____

Looking for last minute shopping deals?

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[Guest guest]

> ... It would be good if we could create

> some language or a metaphor that can articulate this concept.

>

> It has to do with chaining or compounding, about piling abuses on

top

> of abuses. In my own foo, this took the form of lies upon lies. We

> also read it here in stories about nada reading KO's private diary,

> and then punishing KO for what's written there. Can you see what I

> mean about this multi-layered violation? Other stories about KOs

> being molested, and then nada punishing the abused child for saying

> such things. And the perpetrator being left free to abuse another

> child, and on and on ... More unhappiness on top of more

unhappiness.

>

> Further extending these chains-of-abuse are that they can go on

> for many years. When my own nada was dying of cancer, she was

> complaining about traumatic events from my early childhood. How

> many of these rages was she feeling all during her life, all at the

> same time? ...

> ... And it's not just external. Qwerty's provocative questions

about,

> was I a victim of abuse or was I not, and was it 'bad' or was it

> just 'normal'? This shows how the mental agitation continues years

> later without calming down. We know from KO stories that it often

> takes into one's 30s or 40s or later in life to begin getting a

> grip on this stuff -- if ever. I see the kid-of as being under a

> constant barrage of negative and conflicting messages, both outside

> and inside ...

Hi Folks,

I'm replying to my own post, which always makes me feel a little

shizoid. I'm seeing my therapist tonight, and wanted to write just

a little more today. Then I can give you all a break!

A couple people have mentioned 'layering' in their posts, which

expresses the basic elements of this 'multiple' or 'compound' idea.

I'm no expert, just a KO who would like to advance the discussion

a liitle. If this helps you in your thinking, or leads to more

discussion, then it's a good thing. My point is that KOs suffer

from too much layering, like too much baggage. It's not all bad,

it's just all too much. KOs talk about the 'bad' stuff here, but

there's also too much 'good' or 'neutral' stuff. This is because

BPs can't manage their messages in a consistent way, because they

themselves are fundamentally inconsistent.

Sometimes, layers can be all positive (sort of ...

Nada:

- You are so talented.

- You can do anything you want.

- You will do great in school.

- You will set the world on fire.

- I wish I had the opportunities you have.

- You make us proud.

Or, layers can be all negative ...

- You're not disciplined enough.

- The family can't afford to send you out of state.

- You're not your cousin Peabody.

- You owe us for this one.

- This is your last chance.

- No, you can't major in Dickinson's poetry.

- Remember when you failed algebra.

- You owe us.

- Don't let us down.

But you KOs already know what I'm going to say next.

Sometimes layers are all mixed up randomly, every-which-way!

Layers can be internal and external ...

- KO: Readying for the prom. Feels excited, nervous, hopeful,

mature, like a kid, like a horse, wants to be able to have some

fun, have some positive memories. Wants to get out of here.

- Nada: You look like a tramp.

made her own dress, and she's the prom queen!

Nadas will use layers in both positive and negative ways ...

- I like your new friend!

- Your new friend looks a little suspicious to me!

Then later ...

- Why did you two break up? I said he was such a nice guy!

Or\and ...

- I knew you were going to get hurt. Didn't I say that

guy looked suspicious?

Finally, nadas are so adept at putting layers on you all the

time, they can do some of their best layering after the fact!

- IF YOU'D ONLY LISTENED TO ME, YOU WOULDN'T BE IN TROUBLE NOW!

Have any of you ever heard that one before?

Thanks again for letting me share,

[Guest guest]

I was so used to all the negative layers that I didn't believe the

positive ones when I heard them. I assumed anything positive my nada

said to me about me was to assuage her guilt for being so nasty, or

something she felt she was supposed to say. It didn't ring true. But

those positive layers sure made me doubt my own experience in that

they were there. How could I have been abused if my mother would tell

me things like " you can be anything you want to be! " and " you are

beautiful! " . Today I know that a few kind words do not negate torrents

of verbal abuse, but in the past those brief moments of kindness

really threw me for a loop.

I still have trouble accepting compliments. I often turn them into

jokes that poke fun at myself, or worse, assume that the compliment is

really a back-handed insult.

qwerty

P.S. Here's a classic negative/positive layering schtick. The night of

our engagement party, I was getting ready at my mom's house where the

party was to take place. I put on a dress which my soon to be

mother-in-law had bought me. As soon as I put it on my nada starts in

about how the dress doesn't look good on me, and emphasizes all the

wrong aspects of my anatomy. I was crestfallen and angry. I think I

said something like " I really don't want to hear that right now. That

is so inappropriate. " She shut up, possibly because a neighbor was

there helping her out, and she had to tidy up herself, plus I had

nothing else to wear. I didn't even ask for her opinion of course, and

anyway, I looked damn good in that dress.

Later she came up to me and said " you look very nice " while smiling.

As if that positive statement could make up for the crap she had

spewed earlier. As if trampling my self-confidence on a very important

night in my life and my husband's life was something she could just

sweep away by saying the words she should have said in the first

place. I said " thank you " but I was thinking " yeah, whatever. " As

always with her, too little too late.

>

>

> Hi Folks,

>

> My point is that KOs suffer

> from too much layering, like too much baggage. It's not all bad,

> it's just all too much. KOs talk about the 'bad' stuff here, but

> there's also too much 'good' or 'neutral' stuff. This is because

> BPs can't manage their messages in a consistent way, because they

> themselves are fundamentally inconsistent.

>

> Sometimes, layers can be all positive (sort of ...

>

> Nada:

> - You are so talented.

> - You can do anything you want.

> - You will do great in school.

> - You will set the world on fire.

> - I wish I had the opportunities you have.

> - You make us proud.

>

> Or, layers can be all negative ...

>

> - You're not disciplined enough.

> - The family can't afford to send you out of state.

> - You're not your cousin Peabody.

> - You owe us for this one.

> - This is your last chance.

> - No, you can't major in Dickinson's poetry.

> - Remember when you failed algebra.

> - You owe us.

> - Don't let us down.

>

[Guest guest]

> ... I didn't even ask for her opinion of course, and

> anyway, I looked damn good in that dress.

>

> Later she came up to me and said " you look very nice " while smiling.

> As if that positive statement could make up for the crap she had

> spewed earlier. As if trampling my self-confidence on a very important

> night in my life and my husband's life was something she could just

> sweep away by saying the words she should have said in the first

> place. I said " thank you " but I was thinking " yeah, whatever. " As

> always with her, too little too late.

Hi, Qwerty, thanks for sharing your sad story. Sorry your nada

tried to ruin your big night. My own nada was out to ruin every

family celebration she could. It shows how those phony-baloney

passive-aggressive 'positive' messages are a key ingredient in

the toxic white-wash. It's designed to drive you crazy. When

nada recounts those events later, you can bet she'll remember all

the nice encouraging things she had to say -- word for word.

[Guest guest]

This is a perfect description of a 2 year old!

When she gets bored and walks away for a second (I don't know, to get

a cotton candy?) she expects a brand-new peg waiting for her, no

damage. If she comes back to the same one she spintered before, it just

infuriates her further.

>

>

>

>

>

>

________________________________________________________________________

____________

> Never miss a thing. Make Yahoo your home page.

> http://www.yahoo.com/r/hs

>

>

[Guest guest]

Jae,I was really struck by something you wrote in your

post: " ...Therefore,she could report the theft and I'd have the cops

after me " ...How awful to have to think of mother and the cops at the

same time.My mother used to threaten to " call the police " on me for

the silliest reasons,as if I was some vagrant loitering on her

property.

I'm also sorry that you weren't able to continue seeing your

therapist.

But I'm glad to hear that you've made the decision to get the kind

of education you always wanted.Follow your dream! I'm happy for you

-

>

> I'm so sorry they wouldn't let you see that psychiatrist anymore!

My nada fired mine as well.

>

> I asked him once what I had to do to make myself better and he

said " Honestly, I don't think your problems will be able to be solved

while you still live under your mother's roof. " I took that to mean

the sooner I left, the better. Being sixteen, I of course ran away

later that week. I wrote a note explaining to nada that I thought she

needed to see a psychologist, but either way, I wouldn't be able to

be a healthy and whole individual until I left, so I did. I also put

that I hoped as my mother she would see that this was what I needed

and I promised to take good care of myself, finish school, and

contact her soon to let her know I was alright. I didn't get very

far. I realized I still had nada's credit card in my wallet from

getting groceries the day before. Therefore, she could report the

theft and I'd have the cops after me. So, I had to go back. Plus, I

hadn't been able to find my kitten before I left. I knew I'd miss her

terribly. I insisted nada

> and I not speak until we were in my therapist's office. He

explained why I tried to run and about BPD. She called him a fraud

and we left. The rage lasted days and I never saw that therapist

again. I bet this has happened to several other KOs as well.

>

> Jae

> >

>

>

>

>

>

>

______________________________________________________________________

______________

> Never miss a thing. Make Yahoo your home page.

> http://www.yahoo.com/r/hs

>

>

[Guest guest]

Owwww....that is what my nada did to all of us.

Sylvia

>

> Thinking about what you've described, I got an odd little image in

my

> mind. You know that game they have at carnivals, the one you always

> see in movies? There's a huge thing that looks like a giant mercury

> thermometer, only it has points earned instead of degrees. There's

a

> huge mallet you're supposed to pick up and use to hit the base of

the

> thermometer. The harder you hit, the higher the ball goes in the

> thermometer, the more points you score.

>

> Now imagine one of those toys for toddlers: a small wooden bench or

> box with evenly spaced holes in different shapes. There's a

circle, a

> square, a triangle, hexagon, trapezoid. You're supposed to put the

> square peg in the square hole, the round one in the circular hole,

etc.

>

> I see the layered abuse as nada/fada repeatedly banging that

enormous

> mallet at the base of that giant thermometer. Only this time, the

base

> is a circular hole, and she keeps banging a square peg into it. She

> doesn't realize or doesn't care that the square peg can't fit into

a

> circular hole. In fact, this only spurs her on... she keeps banging

> that peg harder and harder because she's hell bent on getting it in

> there. As she gets angrier and whacks it harder and more violently,

> that peg is going to fracture, bits of wood splintering off and

> falling to the floor. Eventually, she'll force it into the circular

> hole. Then she'll wonder why the peg won't come out...

>

> qwerty

>....

[Guest guest]

I have never heard it put that way before, but it is so very true. We

are the healthy and aware ones, and we were punished for it.

Sylvia

>..... And what's

> really happening is that nada doesn't get it, but

> punishes KO (for getting it). .....>

>

[Guest guest]

Yes! I got my head bitten off from dishrag dad for daring to suggest

that nada needed professional help, and I wasn't the source of her

misery. When I wouldn't accept the neatly wrapped package of blame my

father was trying to put in my lap, he got PISSED OFF.

They can't handle the truth -- so I leave them no choice but to

demonize me.

-K

[Guest guest]

Thanks Bink!!

I'm SOOO exicted to be a teacher. I had an awful time with math but

english always came easy to me. I love to write too! I'm planning

on teaching English at the secondary level. Most people only have

negative things to say about that age group, but I have been tuning

it out.

Yeah, go figure - stepnada's a teacher. She must be doing really

well however because her students supposedly adore her, and she

showed me this big packet full of goodbye letters her seniors wrote

her. The books on BPD all confirm that these individuals can be

very successful at their profession...it's just amazing to me. She

does switch schools quite a bit but it is because of fights with

fellow teachers/principals. She doesn't like when she doesn't get

her way, or the proper acknowledgements!

> >

> > I also could have written any of these posts. I was teased

> > mercilessly in school from the third grade to the tenth, and

> > stepnada was always calling me a wuss and telling me to stand up

for

> > myself - she of course, was the popular cheerleader in high

school.

> > My sister and I were goth kids for awhile which pissed stepnada

off

> > to no end. My three best friends today are, my husband, my

friend

> > in Wisconsin, and my friend in Alaska (I live in Vegas). I

> > alternately yearn for friends and an active social life, and

then,

> > when confronted with more than three days of hanging out with

> > people, find myself exhausted and irritable - I just don't have

it

> > in me to be social anymore. I still don't feel that I " fit in "

> > anywhere! But things are slowly changing for me since I decided

to

> > walk my own path, and stop being pushed down the path stepnada

felt

> > was best for me.

> >

> > Jae, your feeling of a non-person resonated deeply with me. I

often

> > feel like I'm going to be called out as a " fraud " and sometimes

I

> > experience disassociation - nothing is real at that point. It's

> > frightening and exacerbates the low level depression and anxiety

I

> > experience. Also, like you, I take great solace and joy in

> > academia. I finished college but found myself in a customer

service

> > position (I graduated three months before 9/11 with a degree in

> > Psychology - the only positions available to people with a BA in

> > Psych were shut down by the state because of budget cuts). I

felt

> > like " now what? " I have always wanted to be a teacher but was

> > afraid to do so b/c stepnada is one and always told me I was not

> > permitted to do that for a living (she hates it - yet keeps

earning

> > more continuing ed credits in education - go figure) - she

> > threatened not paying for college if I chose education as a

major.

> > When I complained about how empty my customer service job made

me

> > feel (stupid me, I was looking for comfort from HER), she

snapped

> > back at me, in front of my cousin, " If you don't quit that job

right

> > now, I want all the money I back I wasted on your college

> > education. " I was making $11 an hour, and living with roomates -

I

> > couldn't afford to quit! If I did, I would have to move back in

> > with HER. Now, it's five years later, and I'm in an equally

> > depressing job. The women I work with are almost all high

school

> > dropouts and have been with the company for 10, 20, 30 years

each.

> > They all grew up together and are a tight, impenatrable clique

that

> > loves pointing out how young I am, which is usually a way to

dismiss

> > whatever I have just expressed. All I do is data entry ALL DAY

> > LONG. My boss is a controlling, perfectionist, brown-nosing, by

the

> > book bitch. It is so depressing, and I feel like such a failure

> > that I can barely get out of bed in the morning. Not long ago I

> > finally broke. The thought of that future bleak future

stretching

> > out before me made decide to do something about it. I have

wanted

> > to be a teacher since I was five years old, and she can't stop

me

> > anymore - and I can't stop me just because I'm afraid of how she

> > will react. I researched online schools and found a good one

for

> > me. Now I'm two classes into my Master's of English Lit degree

and

> > I feel like I've come home. I'M ME!!!! Voila - all the social

> > anxiety, and depression has been melting away. The buzzing

current

> > of guilt that was constantly flowing through me has been

diminished

> > to the occasional bubble (and since it's a bubble - it pops!!).

I

> > feel JOY, and I'm able to relax. After I've finished my degree

(in

> > August or September of next year) I will enroll in our local

school

> > district's Alternative Routes to NV state teacher's licensure

and

> > will hopefully be in a classroom one to two years from now.

> >

> > My point is, if your heart is begging you to go back to school

and

> > finish your degree, to pursue a career you really want to have,

than

> > do it!! Do it RIGHT NOW! Don't let the money stop you - there

are

> > loans and scholarships. Don't let people suggest you can't -

you

> > KNOW you can. Don't think you won't have the time - you'll make

> > it! There are so may programs out there for working adults. I

> > researched for three years while I beat around the bush, and

gave

> > myself a million reasons why I wouldn't be able to hack it. Now

> > that I'm finally doing it, I feel so much stronger and more

> > connected to my soul than I EVER have. I'm not lying to myself

> > anymore, or allowing my stepnada to direct my life. $13,000 is

a

> > teeny, tiny price to pay for peace of mind. Now I'm

thinking " why

> > the hell did I wait so damn long!!?? "

> >

> > Best of luck to you Jae! Listen to your heart, it is throwing

you a

> > lifeline, don't let yourself drown.

> >

> > ::hugs::

> > (fellow school nerd - and proud of it!!)

> >

>

[Guest guest]

I'm not sure if my nada ever read my diary, but I remember hiding

anything I wrote on the computer under hidden folders with

misleading names. I am still extremely paranoid about my writing,

as far as letting others read it. I think a lot of it stems from my

fear that she will read some of my writing and criticize it...making

it a source of shame/embarassment which has the potential to take

from me the drive for doing it (at least for awhile). Though I'm

doing better with the fear of rejection/failure, this is an area

where I am still very, very sensitive. I can't stomach the thought

of having the one thing I love to do more than anything, taken away

from me. It's too precious to lose.

I was at a restaurant with her and my dad and we were talking about

something completely inocuous and she burst into tears. I asked her

(with hidden disgust) what was wrong and she said, " You're gonna

write a book about me, I JUST KNOW IT! " I looked at my dad and

said, " where they hell is THIS coming from? " I was so pissed! How

dare she blame me for something I HADN'T EVEN DONE! Yet. I started

thinking, maybe I WILL write a book about it.

> > >

> > > > I DO remember someone saying at one

> > > > time that KO's that were NOT molested still tended to have

those

> > > signs for some reason

> > > > although why escapes me at the moment.

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > > I often wondered, when I was a tween, if I had been molested

and

> > > didn't remember it. My guess would be that there is a

similarity

> > > between the effects of being molested and being raised by a

nada.

> > >

> > > While a nada might not molest, she might invade her child in

many

> > > other ways. Reading your diary. Staring at your body in the

> > dressing

> > > room as you start to develop, instead of showing you some

respect

> > and

> > > modesty and looking away. Refusing to allow you to have

private

> > > thoughts. Eavesdropping. Laughing at your pain.

> > >

> > > Have you ever felt like you were *emotionally* raped? I think

> this

> > is

> > > where those feelings come in. It's invading boundaries,

> emotional

> > and

> > > physical.

> > >

> >

>

[Guest guest]

That is completely awful, ! I can't imagine how embarrassing

that was for you!

> > > I DO remember someone saying at one > > time

that KO's that were NOT molested still tended to have those> signs

for some reason > > although why escapes me at the moment.> > > > I

often wondered, when I was a tween, if I had been molested and>

didn't remember it. My guess would be that there is a similarity>

between the effects of being molested and being raised by a nada.> >

While a nada might not molest, she might invade her child in many>

other ways. Reading your diary. Staring at your body in the

dressing> room as you start to develop, instead of showing you some

respect and> modesty and looking away. Refusing to allow you to have

private> thoughts. Eavesdropping. Laughing at your pain.> > Have you

ever felt like you were *emotionally* raped? I think this is> where

those feelings come in. It's invading boundaries, emotional and>

physical.>

>

>

>

>

>

>

> _________________________________________________________________

> Share life as it happens with the new Windows Live.

> http://www.windowslive.com/share.html?

ocid=TXT_TAGHM_Wave2_sharelife_122007

>

>

[Guest guest]

I'm still very, very sensitive about my writing, too, but man it

feels good to get back into it. I feel like I unblocked a dam. As

far as the book goes, do it! It's not like she said she was sorry

for anything she did to you, and if she didn't feel enough shame to

say she was sorry, then she has no right be ashamed/angry if you tell

other people about it. If nothing else, our upbringings gave us a

gold mine of abnormal psychology that could be developed into

fabulous twisted characters. I wrote a short story about my nada.

I've been contemplating posting it here but I didn't want to change

the theme of group.

> > > >

> > > > > I DO remember someone saying at one

> > > > > time that KO's that were NOT molested still tended to have

> those

> > > > signs for some reason

> > > > > although why escapes me at the moment.

> > > >

> > > >

> > > >

> > > > I often wondered, when I was a tween, if I had been molested

> and

> > > > didn't remember it. My guess would be that there is a

> similarity

> > > > between the effects of being molested and being raised by a

> nada.

> > > >

> > > > While a nada might not molest, she might invade her child in

> many

> > > > other ways. Reading your diary. Staring at your body in the

> > > dressing

> > > > room as you start to develop, instead of showing you some

> respect

> > > and

> > > > modesty and looking away. Refusing to allow you to have

> private

> > > > thoughts. Eavesdropping. Laughing at your pain.

> > > >

> > > > Have you ever felt like you were *emotionally* raped? I

think

> > this

> > > is

> > > > where those feelings come in. It's invading boundaries,

> > emotional

> > > and

> > > > physical.

> > > >

> > >

> >

>

[Guest guest]

Kyla,

I know about the alcoholism. My dad is one. He also has always allowed me to

speak my

mind. Weird, huh?

You are right about them being a bit narcissistic. I always told my dad he was

lucky that I

was such an agreeable child. Never had problem playing pinball for hours while

he played

pool with his drinking buddies. I've seen the inside of most of the VFW's and

American

Legion's in Southern Indiana before I was in Kindergarten. He was lucky cause I

was also a

tomboy that loved to fish and watch football and help him in the garage. The

year his last

remaining brother passed away he spent in a bottle of Sky Vodka. When we were

at the

family reunion later that year he got very petulant (while so drunk he could

barely stand)

because I refused to take him to play some pool.

I also remember him refusing to do anything that he wasn't interested in. Not

for me and definitely not for nada or brother. If that isn't narcissistic I

don't know what is. I never

participated in extra curricular activities because he and nada would not want

to pick me

up and would tell me to get a ride with so and so cause they live close by.

Never mind

that I did not know so and so except their name. So I would not do anything

because it

made me feel like a beggar to bum rides.

I have told him he is an alcoholic. In the same breath I told him I love him no

matter. I

understand a great deal of why he is an alcoholic. It is definitely

self-medicating in his

case but I do not let him off the hook. I just know that he spent many years

being beaten

over the head about it by nada and that did not work. I figure his behavior is

his choice.

xoxo Carla

[Guest guest]

> Yes -- my nada has said to me " and I hope you will do this for me " --

> that thought scares me in my sleep, I must tell you.

Kyla,

Had to reply to this one too. My nada expected me to take care of her too.

Actually cried

about how when she is old and needs help/care all I will probably do is just

hire someone

and forget about her. Now her is the irony...SHE IS A HOME HEALTHCARE AIDE! If

it wasn't

so effing infuriating it would be funny.

I let her know in NO UNCERTAIN TERMS that I am not moving back to Indiana to

care for her

nor will she be moving to Colorado to be with me. I will do what I can to see

that she is well

cared for but not at the expense of my own health and financial well being. Now

we know

why she conned my brother into doing it for him. At least he is wising up.

xoxo Carla

[Guest guest]

Wow -- what a great post.....You are to be commended for seeing him

and what he's done to the family, yet still having compassion for

him.

My grandmother was actually pretty sweet to me -- I wasn't in the

line of fire of her alcoholism so much as others were. I do

remember some embarrassing moments around her during family

gatherings.

She's gone now and I can remember lots of laughs with her -- I can

still hear her laugh, and I can still remember her pulling my face

toward her for a goodnight kiss.

One of her many wise observances was about my mother (her daughter) -

- she said " You know, I don't think she ever really grew up. " I

remember thinking " My gosh, she's right! "

Thanks for sharing --

{hugs}

-Kyla

[Guest guest]

drlingirl --

I can't believe how similar our nadas are! --

My mom would pick up something nice that I had bought for myself and

say " Why don't you give this to your mother? " and a few times, to

my regret, I did. Just like you gave in and paid her way. I don't

do it anymore and I hope you don't either! (Now, we'll pay for her

if WE offer, or it's her birthday or something....)

It's almost like she wants to be " even " with me -- doesn't like it

to look like I'm doing well or have nicer things than her. I've

shared before on this board that we bought a lakehouse a couple of

years ago, and she and my dad show no interest in seeing it, despite

being invited several times.

And your mother having money and STILL wanting you to pay her way is

SO obviously her trying to manipulate you into taking care of her.

Typical of nadas: don't want to earn intimacy, they just want the

trappings of it.

[Guest guest]

Kyla

> And your mother having money and STILL wanting you to pay her way is

> SO obviously her trying to manipulate you into taking care of her.

> Typical of nadas: don't want to earn intimacy, they just want the

> trappings of it.

>

I found this statement particularly profound. My nada is ALWAYS commenting

about how

much her nieces and nephews dote on THEIR mother. The implication being that I

don't.

and how close they are.

On Thanksgiving day my brother came to the hospice to be with nada and

stepfather. He

is staying at dads house and left before dinner was served to be there for nada.

A few

hours later one of stepfathers co-workers, whom also happens to be the son of

one of

nadas friends, stopped by and brought nada a plate from his dinner party. Nada

says

quite loudly in front of brother. " Now THIS is what a GOOD SON does for his

mother. "

don't think there are enough alternate symbols to fill in all the scatological

language I

would like to use for THAT.!!!

xoxo Carla

[Guest guest]

carla -- Ouch. What a hurtful thing to say in the presence of the

guy who left Thanksgiving dinner early to be there to support her.

That's gratitude for ya.

Isn't it interesting (and not the least bit surprising!) that that

one-liner was ready to spring from her lips at the first

opportunity?!! They have those things filed away and ready to

spring! Too bad you didn't answer " Unless it's full of poison! " ha

ha ha......

My mom has one locked & loaded, too: extracting pity over her

mother's death. She takes ANY opportunity to spring it on you if

you find yourself on the phone with her, or in her presence. You

can bet your last dollar she's going to work it in before your visit

is over. That's why I've made sure to be around her in groups, or

to steamroll right over it on the phone. I know I look and sound

heartless -- I really wrestle with that! But I am sick to death of

being made to listen to her dog & pony show. Being a participant,

like a shill in a magic show.

I know she's just lost her mother (at 90), but I think she's

shamelessly using it. She's also using it as an excuse not to jump

back into the business of living -- which she doesn't want to do in

the first place anyway. She's too hemmed in by her fears to

actually LIVE. She's never really done anything, that was truly all

her own, in life. By her biography, you'd be hard-pressed to find a

firm characterization of her -- a unique identity.

Well, at least your brother should know, after that little insult at

Thanksgiving, that he shouldn't lose sleep over not doing enough for

her. She'll think that anyway, no matter what he does!

-Kyla