Re: Did you feel older than nada as a kid?

[Guest guest]

Yes, en experience similar to yours and other experiences. I was in H.S. around

16. This was the first time in years that I had been with nada. I had been with

my Fada and S.M. The live style was a shock, she would breeze in and out at all

hours, with different men while I was at home trying to do school work. She

would often interupt so that I could " entertain her " . There was one point where

she tried to get me to try pot. I was shocked, and refused (big mistake, sent

her into a rage). I was one of the fortunate ones that was never peer presured

into doing drugs from my peers, just presured my nada. She had several different

addictions, a few months after that she decided that she needed my help to

withdrawl off of Adivan, I stayed up with her night after night while she cried,

raged, vomited and not to mention the non stop wanting to give up. She became

pregnant after that, and would sit on the top of the stairs and slide down on

her bottom until she

had a miscarriage. I would stay up worry if she would make it home safe, or if

our home was safe. She would go through drive throughs backwards for laughs. I

came from my dads house, which, we had bed times, school work and grades

mattered, we had food on a regular basis, no one was up past 10pm on a

weeknight, I always had a bed to sleep in to staying up all night, she never

looked at my report card or cared about school work or if I even went, drugs,

different men, moving from place to place, sometimes having to share a bed with

her if it wasn't occupied by someone else and not that I knew it then..but BPD.

I felt like I was the adult at all times. I had to be, to survive her. Sadly,

she is still the same, just older, slower and a lot less men.

________________________________

To: WTOAdultChildren1

Sent: Thu, November 5, 2009 7:42:40 AM

Subject: Did you feel older than nada as a kid?

 

A couple of recent topics have reminded me of the surreal feeling I had fairly

often growing up of actually asking myself if I wasn't more " mature " than my own

mother--and asking myself how in the world that could be.It was so weird and

scary to feel that way.I was wondering if anyone else remembers feeling

something like this.

When I was six we were going one day to visit her high school best friend:

nada,me and my brother in the car.We were stopped at a red light out in the

countryside- -it was a gorgeous late Spring day and Simon's song

" Kodachrome " was playing on the radio.I was sitting in the back with my brother

enjoying the ride and the day because I always loved going to see this friend of

nada's who was very nice.We didn't get to see her enough,I thought.

Anyway,we were stopped at a red light and a group of young men seemed (to me) to

appear from out of nowhere.They pounded on the car hood and sort of gathered

around the stopped car.I was shocked and very frightened,but nada was all

giggles and she asked them if she could give them " a ride " .

They piled into the car,including in the back seat where my brother and I kind

of got pushed to the side.I put my arms around my brother and held him close to

me because I was scared and to somehow shield him.Nada was giggling away,asking

them questions about where they were going,what were their names,tra la la,and

seemed to be having a ball.

We ended up driving out of our way and I was very relieved when they got out of

the car--they had seemed raucous to me and rude.I was also shaking with upset

and fear.And angry--I was fully aware of feeling angry with nada.

I couldn't help it,she seemed so pleased and non-plussed by the whole thing,I

had to say something.I didn't want her to ever do something like that again.

I was SIX YEARS OLD and I had to say to a thirty one year old woman, " How could

you be so irresponsible? "

Nada was like,what? What do you mean,how can you be so silly? She told me

lightly, " Oh, D (the best friend we were on the way to see) and I used to do that

all the time in college,pick up hitch hikers and we'd tease them for a while

then drop them off somewhere,it was a riot... "

I had to remind her: " Mom,you're not in college anymore and you have two small

children in the car with you. "

She stopped the car and told me to get out and when I refused,yelled at me, " I

have ONE CHILD in this car with me! You're not a child,I don't know what you

are! You're some kind of demon in a little girl's body,you're NOT a child.I

should just shove you out of the car and leave you here,you know so much,you'll

do just fine all on your own! "

She took off speeding.My brother was now crying and she yelled at me, " You see

what you did! Are you proud of yourself now,you made B cry again? You've

succeeded in ruining this day now for both of us. "

I was left bewildered by the whole thing.How could it be that I knew she'd done

something wrong (and dangerous) and she didn't? Was it really because there was

something horribly abnormal about ME?

And what if she did something like that again and I couldn't stop her? What if

something really bad happened to us?

I decided to " tattle " on her to my grandfather, her father,and I did.She was

very hateful to me after that but she never picked up another hitchhiker.I also

wonder if she was planning on having a big laugh with her friend over picking up

those guys and if things like that are the reason why,whenever we did see this

woman,it was nada going to see her--she very very rarely ever came to see

us.This friend of hers had gotten married and had kids and grown up and it

seemed like nada never did grow up in the same way.Why does that make me feel so

sad?

Does anyone else have an experience like this?

[Guest guest]

Yes...a thousand times yes. I've learned there are words for this;

Parentification and Spousification. When I discussed the details this past

Monday with my therapist, it was nice to have a name for these twisted events.

I have limited memories from childhood, though they're coming back lately, but

the ones I do hold fall into the above categories. I was always the holder of

the self-control, the wise/safe choices, the young adult in charge, etc. My

first memories of this are around 4 or 5... shortly after my mom's divorce from

my dad was final. It would continue today if I allowed it... she still puts me

in these positions but I refuse.

Too much. Just WAY too much.

LYnnette

>

> Yes, en experience similar to yours and other experiences. I was in H.S.

around 16. This was the first time in years that I had been with nada. I had

been with my Fada and S.M. The live style was a shock, she would breeze in and

out at all hours, with different men while I was at home trying to do school

work. She would often interupt so that I could " entertain her " . There was one

point where she tried to get me to try pot. I was shocked, and refused (big

mistake, sent her into a rage). I was one of the fortunate ones that was never

peer presured into doing drugs from my peers, just presured my nada. She had

several different addictions, a few months after that she decided that she

needed my help to withdrawl off of Adivan, I stayed up with her night after

night while she cried, raged, vomited and not to mention the non stop wanting to

give up. She became pregnant after that, and would sit on the top of the stairs

and slide down on her bottom until she

> had a miscarriage. I would stay up worry if she would make it home safe, or

if our home was safe. She would go through drive throughs backwards for laughs.

I came from my dads house, which, we had bed times, school work and grades

mattered, we had food on a regular basis, no one was up past 10pm on a

weeknight, I always had a bed to sleep in to staying up all night, she never

looked at my report card or cared about school work or if I even went, drugs,

different men, moving from place to place, sometimes having to share a bed with

her if it wasn't occupied by someone else and not that I knew it then..but BPD.

I felt like I was the adult at all times. I had to be, to survive her. Sadly,

she is still the same, just older, slower and a lot less men.

>

>

>

>

>

>

> ________________________________

>

> To: WTOAdultChildren1

> Sent: Thu, November 5, 2009 7:42:40 AM

> Subject: Did you feel older than nada as a kid?

>

>  

> A couple of recent topics have reminded me of the surreal feeling I had fairly

often growing up of actually asking myself if I wasn't more " mature " than my own

mother--and asking myself how in the world that could be.It was so weird and

scary to feel that way.I was wondering if anyone else remembers feeling

something like this.

>

> When I was six we were going one day to visit her high school best friend:

nada,me and my brother in the car.We were stopped at a red light out in the

countryside- -it was a gorgeous late Spring day and Simon's song

" Kodachrome " was playing on the radio.I was sitting in the back with my brother

enjoying the ride and the day because I always loved going to see this friend of

nada's who was very nice.We didn't get to see her enough,I thought.

>

> Anyway,we were stopped at a red light and a group of young men seemed (to me)

to appear from out of nowhere.They pounded on the car hood and sort of gathered

around the stopped car.I was shocked and very frightened,but nada was all

giggles and she asked them if she could give them " a ride " .

>

> They piled into the car,including in the back seat where my brother and I kind

of got pushed to the side.I put my arms around my brother and held him close to

me because I was scared and to somehow shield him.Nada was giggling away,asking

them questions about where they were going,what were their names,tra la la,and

seemed to be having a ball.

>

> We ended up driving out of our way and I was very relieved when they got out

of the car--they had seemed raucous to me and rude.I was also shaking with upset

and fear.And angry--I was fully aware of feeling angry with nada.

>

> I couldn't help it,she seemed so pleased and non-plussed by the whole thing,I

had to say something.I didn't want her to ever do something like that again.

>

> I was SIX YEARS OLD and I had to say to a thirty one year old woman, " How could

you be so irresponsible? "

>

> Nada was like,what? What do you mean,how can you be so silly? She told me

lightly, " Oh, D (the best friend we were on the way to see) and I used to do that

all the time in college,pick up hitch hikers and we'd tease them for a while

then drop them off somewhere,it was a riot... "

>

> I had to remind her: " Mom,you're not in college anymore and you have two small

children in the car with you. "

>

> She stopped the car and told me to get out and when I refused,yelled at me, " I

have ONE CHILD in this car with me! You're not a child,I don't know what you

are! You're some kind of demon in a little girl's body,you're NOT a child.I

should just shove you out of the car and leave you here,you know so much,you'll

do just fine all on your own! "

>

> She took off speeding.My brother was now crying and she yelled at me, " You see

what you did! Are you proud of yourself now,you made B cry again? You've

succeeded in ruining this day now for both of us. "

>

> I was left bewildered by the whole thing.How could it be that I knew she'd

done something wrong (and dangerous) and she didn't? Was it really because there

was something horribly abnormal about ME?

>

> And what if she did something like that again and I couldn't stop her? What if

something really bad happened to us?

>

> I decided to " tattle " on her to my grandfather, her father,and I did.She was

very hateful to me after that but she never picked up another hitchhiker.I also

wonder if she was planning on having a big laugh with her friend over picking up

those guys and if things like that are the reason why,whenever we did see this

woman,it was nada going to see her--she very very rarely ever came to see

us.This friend of hers had gotten married and had kids and grown up and it

seemed like nada never did grow up in the same way.Why does that make me feel so

sad?

>

> Does anyone else have an experience like this?

>

>

>

>

>

>

>

>

>

>

[Guest guest]

I'm so sorry that you, , and had to endure that particular

horror: the irresponsible, childish kind of nada who " parentalized " you.

You were raised by a narcissistic, cruel, spoiled child in an adult's body.

Both you and were placed in hideous life-threatening situations by

your *mothers.* It is a miracle that either of you survived your childhoods at

all.

What is even more shocking to me is that neither of you were rescued, you were

abandoned to endure emotional torture and physical danger at the hands of a

person who was obviously severely mentally ill. That will never cease to amaze

me, that children are routinely left to fend for themselves against such

reprehensible abuse.

I so wish that some kind of tests or screenings were required when a woman

becomes pregnant to get some idea of whether the woman has a severe personality

disorder or not; I think pds are as dangerous in their own way to their child as

a paranoid schizophrenic would be as a mother.

Nobody in their right mind hands a two-year-old an infant to take care of, but

that's pretty much what happens when a woman with Cluster B personality

disordered female gives birth.

-Annie

>

> Yes, en experience similar to yours and other experiences. I was in H.S.

around 16. This was the first time in years that I had been with nada. I had

been with my Fada and S.M. The live style was a shock, she would breeze in and

out at all hours, with different men while I was at home trying to do school

work. She would often interupt so that I could " entertain her " . There was one

point where she tried to get me to try pot. I was shocked, and refused (big

mistake, sent her into a rage). I was one of the fortunate ones that was never

peer presured into doing drugs from my peers, just presured my nada. She had

several different addictions, a few months after that she decided that she

needed my help to withdrawl off of Adivan, I stayed up with her night after

night while she cried, raged, vomited and not to mention the non stop wanting to

give up. She became pregnant after that, and would sit on the top of the stairs

and slide down on her bottom until she

> had a miscarriage. I would stay up worry if she would make it home safe, or

if our home was safe. She would go through drive throughs backwards for laughs.

I came from my dads house, which, we had bed times, school work and grades

mattered, we had food on a regular basis, no one was up past 10pm on a

weeknight, I always had a bed to sleep in to staying up all night, she never

looked at my report card or cared about school work or if I even went, drugs,

different men, moving from place to place, sometimes having to share a bed with

her if it wasn't occupied by someone else and not that I knew it then..but BPD.

I felt like I was the adult at all times. I had to be, to survive her. Sadly,

she is still the same, just older, slower and a lot less men.

>

>

>

>

>

>

> ________________________________

>

> To: WTOAdultChildren1

> Sent: Thu, November 5, 2009 7:42:40 AM

> Subject: Did you feel older than nada as a kid?

>

>  

> A couple of recent topics have reminded me of the surreal feeling I had fairly

often growing up of actually asking myself if I wasn't more " mature " than my own

mother--and asking myself how in the world that could be.It was so weird and

scary to feel that way.I was wondering if anyone else remembers feeling

something like this.

>

> When I was six we were going one day to visit her high school best friend:

nada,me and my brother in the car.We were stopped at a red light out in the

countryside- -it was a gorgeous late Spring day and Simon's song

" Kodachrome " was playing on the radio.I was sitting in the back with my brother

enjoying the ride and the day because I always loved going to see this friend of

nada's who was very nice.We didn't get to see her enough,I thought.

>

> Anyway,we were stopped at a red light and a group of young men seemed (to me)

to appear from out of nowhere.They pounded on the car hood and sort of gathered

around the stopped car.I was shocked and very frightened,but nada was all

giggles and she asked them if she could give them " a ride " .

>

> They piled into the car,including in the back seat where my brother and I kind

of got pushed to the side.I put my arms around my brother and held him close to

me because I was scared and to somehow shield him.Nada was giggling away,asking

them questions about where they were going,what were their names,tra la la,and

seemed to be having a ball.

>

> We ended up driving out of our way and I was very relieved when they got out

of the car--they had seemed raucous to me and rude.I was also shaking with upset

and fear.And angry--I was fully aware of feeling angry with nada.

>

> I couldn't help it,she seemed so pleased and non-plussed by the whole thing,I

had to say something.I didn't want her to ever do something like that again.

>

> I was SIX YEARS OLD and I had to say to a thirty one year old woman, " How could

you be so irresponsible? "

>

> Nada was like,what? What do you mean,how can you be so silly? She told me

lightly, " Oh, D (the best friend we were on the way to see) and I used to do that

all the time in college,pick up hitch hikers and we'd tease them for a while

then drop them off somewhere,it was a riot... "

>

> I had to remind her: " Mom,you're not in college anymore and you have two small

children in the car with you. "

>

> She stopped the car and told me to get out and when I refused,yelled at me, " I

have ONE CHILD in this car with me! You're not a child,I don't know what you

are! You're some kind of demon in a little girl's body,you're NOT a child.I

should just shove you out of the car and leave you here,you know so much,you'll

do just fine all on your own! "

>

> She took off speeding.My brother was now crying and she yelled at me, " You see

what you did! Are you proud of yourself now,you made B cry again? You've

succeeded in ruining this day now for both of us. "

>

> I was left bewildered by the whole thing.How could it be that I knew she'd

done something wrong (and dangerous) and she didn't? Was it really because there

was something horribly abnormal about ME?

>

> And what if she did something like that again and I couldn't stop her? What if

something really bad happened to us?

>

> I decided to " tattle " on her to my grandfather, her father,and I did.She was

very hateful to me after that but she never picked up another hitchhiker.I also

wonder if she was planning on having a big laugh with her friend over picking up

those guys and if things like that are the reason why,whenever we did see this

woman,it was nada going to see her--she very very rarely ever came to see

us.This friend of hers had gotten married and had kids and grown up and it

seemed like nada never did grow up in the same way.Why does that make me feel so

sad?

>

> Does anyone else have an experience like this?

>

>

>

>

>

>

>

>

>

>

[Guest guest]

How could this NOT make you feel so sad, ?!?!? I am still trying to

process this horrendous experience you had, so will stop at saying: WOW. You are

an amazing testament to strength and spirit to have survived your childhood, and

to now be such a compassionate, mature, and healthy woman. You are amazing.

>

> A couple of recent topics have reminded me of the surreal feeling I had fairly

often growing up of actually asking myself if I wasn't more " mature " than my own

mother--and asking myself how in the world that could be.It was so weird and

scary to feel that way.I was wondering if anyone else remembers feeling

something like this.

Why does that make me feel so sad?

>

> Does anyone else have an experience like this?

>

>

>

[Guest guest]

,

I didn't become aware of feeling more " mature " than my nada until more into my

teens. I was not forced into that role so clearly as you had to be early on to

survive.

What strikes me about your story, other than it being yet another awful and

unbelievable experience your nada put you through is 1) that you had such a

clear sense of its " wrongness " at such a young age - wow, 2)that your nada had

no grasp of the the danger she put herself in, and moreso her children, and 3)

that you remember these events with such clarity. There must be some fine line

between events that are so horrible - they're suppressed, and others that are

also bad but branded in memory. My heart cries for this little girl, so

terrified, yet holding it together to protect her little brother - and trying to

get her mother to see some sense. And then you were demonized for it. I have

to wonder if your brother was too young to understand and bought into her

portrayal of you - and that's why he still only sees her through filters. I have

no doubt that as reasoned and mature as you were (had to be) at such a young

age, you must have actually frightened your nada in some way. I think she

recognized on some level that you were far more mature and intelligent than she

would ever be.

As for your sadness, I'm guessing your reasons may be twofold. If you feel any

sadness for your nada, then you have an amazing capacity for compassion for a

sick, twisted person who will never know growth, or love, or the truth of just

how remarkable her daughter is. And how can there not be sadness for your own

lost childhood - you were never really allowed to just be a little girl - let

alone one who felt safe and loved.

However, I would like to hope that the sadness can be, may be a sign that you're

moving a little toward healing. I think that if you can ever reach a place

beyond the pain, and numbness and disconnectedness and anger (and all the

feelings that an abusive childhood engenders), and just feel the sadness that

remains for what was - what is, then maybe that's the one thing that you can

learn to live with. I hope that makes sense....

Suzy

[Guest guest]

,what you have shared illustrates very well how people with a PD (and

maybe BPD in particular?) try to enlist others to act as soldiers to their

dysfunction-- to alternately defend them and stand guard over them as they

" kick " a bad habit,whether that is abusing prescription drugs like Ativan or

leaving a relationship they've worn down to its dregs as in a divorce...or else

they try to enlist you into *enabling " their dysfunction du jour such as pot

smoking: if you participate,that makes it ok,that sanctions it for them..to do

that to a teenager who is trying to sort out for herself wrong from right,who

she is and is not,is unconscionable.Their motivations are so primitive and

basic,I find it hard to quite grasp that it's so simple: it's all about having a

cheerleader to their dysfunction,even if that is holding them together as that

very dysfunction loosens them from their moorings...this is not what a

mother/child relationship is supposed to be.Mutuality of regard doesn't even

exist in such a relationship,let alone maternal protectiveness and guidance.

I'm so sorry you were used by your nada like this,as a foot soldier to

her dysfunction.It's creepy,it's scary and wrong,to see your own mother engaging

in behaviors you know better than to do yourself.

Thanks too for responding.It helped me to feel less alone--nadas being

weird anyway but this particular feeling of seeing yourself as more mature and

capable than your own mother when you are a minor is even weirder than weird.

>

> Yes, en experience similar to yours and other experiences. I was in H.S.

around 16. This was the first time in years that I had been with nada. I had

been with my Fada and S.M. The live style was a shock, she would breeze in and

out at all hours, with different men while I was at home trying to do school

work. She would often interupt so that I could " entertain her " . There was one

point where she tried to get me to try pot. I was shocked, and refused (big

mistake, sent her into a rage). I was one of the fortunate ones that was never

peer presured into doing drugs from my peers, just presured my nada. She had

several different addictions, a few months after that she decided that she

needed my help to withdrawl off of Adivan, I stayed up with her night after

night while she cried, raged, vomited and not to mention the non stop wanting to

give up. She became pregnant after that, and would sit on the top of the stairs

and slide down on her bottom until she

> had a miscarriage. I would stay up worry if she would make it home safe, or

if our home was safe. She would go through drive throughs backwards for laughs.

I came from my dads house, which, we had bed times, school work and grades

mattered, we had food on a regular basis, no one was up past 10pm on a

weeknight, I always had a bed to sleep in to staying up all night, she never

looked at my report card or cared about school work or if I even went, drugs,

different men, moving from place to place, sometimes having to share a bed with

her if it wasn't occupied by someone else and not that I knew it then..but BPD.

I felt like I was the adult at all times. I had to be, to survive her. Sadly,

she is still the same, just older, slower and a lot less men.

>

>

>

>

>

>

> ________________________________

>

> To: WTOAdultChildren1

> Sent: Thu, November 5, 2009 7:42:40 AM

> Subject: Did you feel older than nada as a kid?

>

>  

> A couple of recent topics have reminded me of the surreal feeling I had fairly

often growing up of actually asking myself if I wasn't more " mature " than my own

mother--and asking myself how in the world that could be.It was so weird and

scary to feel that way.I was wondering if anyone else remembers feeling

something like this.

>

> When I was six we were going one day to visit her high school best friend:

nada,me and my brother in the car.We were stopped at a red light out in the

countryside- -it was a gorgeous late Spring day and Simon's song

" Kodachrome " was playing on the radio.I was sitting in the back with my brother

enjoying the ride and the day because I always loved going to see this friend of

nada's who was very nice.We didn't get to see her enough,I thought.

>

> Anyway,we were stopped at a red light and a group of young men seemed (to me)

to appear from out of nowhere.They pounded on the car hood and sort of gathered

around the stopped car.I was shocked and very frightened,but nada was all

giggles and she asked them if she could give them " a ride " .

>

> They piled into the car,including in the back seat where my brother and I kind

of got pushed to the side.I put my arms around my brother and held him close to

me because I was scared and to somehow shield him.Nada was giggling away,asking

them questions about where they were going,what were their names,tra la la,and

seemed to be having a ball.

>

> We ended up driving out of our way and I was very relieved when they got out

of the car--they had seemed raucous to me and rude.I was also shaking with upset

and fear.And angry--I was fully aware of feeling angry with nada.

>

> I couldn't help it,she seemed so pleased and non-plussed by the whole thing,I

had to say something.I didn't want her to ever do something like that again.

>

> I was SIX YEARS OLD and I had to say to a thirty one year old woman, " How could

you be so irresponsible? "

>

> Nada was like,what? What do you mean,how can you be so silly? She told me

lightly, " Oh, D (the best friend we were on the way to see) and I used to do that

all the time in college,pick up hitch hikers and we'd tease them for a while

then drop them off somewhere,it was a riot... "

>

> I had to remind her: " Mom,you're not in college anymore and you have two small

children in the car with you. "

>

> She stopped the car and told me to get out and when I refused,yelled at me, " I

have ONE CHILD in this car with me! You're not a child,I don't know what you

are! You're some kind of demon in a little girl's body,you're NOT a child.I

should just shove you out of the car and leave you here,you know so much,you'll

do just fine all on your own! "

>

> She took off speeding.My brother was now crying and she yelled at me, " You see

what you did! Are you proud of yourself now,you made B cry again? You've

succeeded in ruining this day now for both of us. "

>

> I was left bewildered by the whole thing.How could it be that I knew she'd

done something wrong (and dangerous) and she didn't? Was it really because there

was something horribly abnormal about ME?

>

> And what if she did something like that again and I couldn't stop her? What if

something really bad happened to us?

>

> I decided to " tattle " on her to my grandfather, her father,and I did.She was

very hateful to me after that but she never picked up another hitchhiker.I also

wonder if she was planning on having a big laugh with her friend over picking up

those guys and if things like that are the reason why,whenever we did see this

woman,it was nada going to see her--she very very rarely ever came to see

us.This friend of hers had gotten married and had kids and grown up and it

seemed like nada never did grow up in the same way.Why does that make me feel so

sad?

>

> Does anyone else have an experience like this?

>

>

>

>

>

>

>

>

>

>

[Guest guest]

,thank you again for your words of kindness and support.As always,they are

truly appreciated.You,too,are amazing :-)

> >

> > A couple of recent topics have reminded me of the surreal feeling I had

fairly often growing up of actually asking myself if I wasn't more " mature " than

my own mother--and asking myself how in the world that could be.It was so weird

and scary to feel that way.I was wondering if anyone else remembers feeling

something like this.

>

> Why does that make me feel so sad?

> >

> > Does anyone else have an experience like this?

> >

> >

> >

>

[Guest guest]

Yes,a personality disordered mother is the ultimate " baby having a baby " ...I

wish society would understand this fact.I wish I knew what the solution is.There

is certainly alot of subjective psychological denial of " mothers as monsters "

collectively but there is also the problem of expediency--that it tragically

appears to be more expedient,as far as our society is concerned, to leave a

child in the care of the bio-mother,especially if that mother is middle class or

more.It shouldn't make a difference,but it does.I think of cases like

Yates,who was diagnosed as schizophrenic and was at some points under a

psychiatrist's care--we all know how that turned out.Or Dena Strosser,who was

diagnosed as suffering from post-partum psychosis,given meds and supervised for

a time,then delared sane.She is the one who cut off her ten month old daughter's

arms,kiling her,and who became the room mate of Yates in the psych

ward--where she was diagnosed as having schizoaffective disorder.A bit too late.

If their children had been removed from their care when it became clear

that they both had serious ongoing mental illness,they would all be alive

today.A mentally ill mother is a danger to her children,that is all that needs

to be understood.That is where the issue of biology should begin and end: the

mother is biologically incapable of caring for her children--and could do them

great harm,even unto death.That is the only essential biological tie here: the

harm that could come from the mother's mental illness,not the mother's bio blood

link to her children.

> >

> > Yes, en experience similar to yours and other experiences. I was in H.S.

around 16. This was the first time in years that I had been with nada. I had

been with my Fada and S.M. The live style was a shock, she would breeze in and

out at all hours, with different men while I was at home trying to do school

work. She would often interupt so that I could " entertain her " . There was one

point where she tried to get me to try pot. I was shocked, and refused (big

mistake, sent her into a rage). I was one of the fortunate ones that was never

peer presured into doing drugs from my peers, just presured my nada. She had

several different addictions, a few months after that she decided that she

needed my help to withdrawl off of Adivan, I stayed up with her night after

night while she cried, raged, vomited and not to mention the non stop wanting to

give up. She became pregnant after that, and would sit on the top of the stairs

and slide down on her bottom until she

> > had a miscarriage. I would stay up worry if she would make it home safe, or

if our home was safe. She would go through drive throughs backwards for laughs.

I came from my dads house, which, we had bed times, school work and grades

mattered, we had food on a regular basis, no one was up past 10pm on a

weeknight, I always had a bed to sleep in to staying up all night, she never

looked at my report card or cared about school work or if I even went, drugs,

different men, moving from place to place, sometimes having to share a bed with

her if it wasn't occupied by someone else and not that I knew it then..but BPD.

I felt like I was the adult at all times. I had to be, to survive her. Sadly,

she is still the same, just older, slower and a lot less men.

> >

> >

> >

> >

> >

> >

> > ________________________________

> > From: christine.depizan <christine.depizan@>

> > To: WTOAdultChildren1

> > Sent: Thu, November 5, 2009 7:42:40 AM

> > Subject: Did you feel older than nada as a kid?

> >

> >  

> > A couple of recent topics have reminded me of the surreal feeling I had

fairly often growing up of actually asking myself if I wasn't more " mature " than

my own mother--and asking myself how in the world that could be.It was so weird

and scary to feel that way.I was wondering if anyone else remembers feeling

something like this.

> >

> > When I was six we were going one day to visit her high school best friend:

nada,me and my brother in the car.We were stopped at a red light out in the

countryside- -it was a gorgeous late Spring day and Simon's song

" Kodachrome " was playing on the radio.I was sitting in the back with my brother

enjoying the ride and the day because I always loved going to see this friend of

nada's who was very nice.We didn't get to see her enough,I thought.

> >

> > Anyway,we were stopped at a red light and a group of young men seemed (to

me) to appear from out of nowhere.They pounded on the car hood and sort of

gathered around the stopped car.I was shocked and very frightened,but nada was

all giggles and she asked them if she could give them " a ride " .

> >

> > They piled into the car,including in the back seat where my brother and I

kind of got pushed to the side.I put my arms around my brother and held him

close to me because I was scared and to somehow shield him.Nada was giggling

away,asking them questions about where they were going,what were their names,tra

la la,and seemed to be having a ball.

> >

> > We ended up driving out of our way and I was very relieved when they got out

of the car--they had seemed raucous to me and rude.I was also shaking with upset

and fear.And angry--I was fully aware of feeling angry with nada.

> >

> > I couldn't help it,she seemed so pleased and non-plussed by the whole

thing,I had to say something.I didn't want her to ever do something like that

again.

> >

> > I was SIX YEARS OLD and I had to say to a thirty one year old woman, " How

could you be so irresponsible? "

> >

> > Nada was like,what? What do you mean,how can you be so silly? She told me

lightly, " Oh, D (the best friend we were on the way to see) and I used to do that

all the time in college,pick up hitch hikers and we'd tease them for a while

then drop them off somewhere,it was a riot... "

> >

> > I had to remind her: " Mom,you're not in college anymore and you have two

small children in the car with you. "

> >

> > She stopped the car and told me to get out and when I refused,yelled at

me, " I have ONE CHILD in this car with me! You're not a child,I don't know what

you are! You're some kind of demon in a little girl's body,you're NOT a child.I

should just shove you out of the car and leave you here,you know so much,you'll

do just fine all on your own! "

> >

> > She took off speeding.My brother was now crying and she yelled at me, " You

see what you did! Are you proud of yourself now,you made B cry again? You've

succeeded in ruining this day now for both of us. "

> >

> > I was left bewildered by the whole thing.How could it be that I knew she'd

done something wrong (and dangerous) and she didn't? Was it really because there

was something horribly abnormal about ME?

> >

> > And what if she did something like that again and I couldn't stop her? What

if something really bad happened to us?

> >

> > I decided to " tattle " on her to my grandfather, her father,and I did.She was

very hateful to me after that but she never picked up another hitchhiker.I also

wonder if she was planning on having a big laugh with her friend over picking up

those guys and if things like that are the reason why,whenever we did see this

woman,it was nada going to see her--she very very rarely ever came to see

us.This friend of hers had gotten married and had kids and grown up and it

seemed like nada never did grow up in the same way.Why does that make me feel so

sad?

> >

> > Does anyone else have an experience like this?

> >

> >

> >

> >

> >

> >

> >

> >

> >

> >

[Guest guest]

Hi,Suzy...Your post made alot of sense and I thank you sincerely,again,for your

sensitive and supportive response.Your post touched on a point a close friend of

mine thinks is the crux of my problems--and where nada struck most devastatingly

at the core of my being: my mind...You're right that feeling sadness for what

was/is represents a healing that I can handle--I never did feel much sorrow for

nada's tragic dysfunction but after I wrote the first post in this thread it hit

me like a ton of bricks: not just that one incident but the totality of her

madness makes me feel incredibly sorry for her.Sad for her,deeply sad.I wasn't

expecting that at all.I am seeing her actions more and more not as the child she

traumatized by them but as an adult who sees how pathetic she was.But with

that,I see more and more how I was sacrificed to her insanity--so my pity is

tempered by horror at the extent of the wreckage she has wrought in my own life.

It seems to me from reading the posts on this board that nadas will always

find some way to mind f*ck their offspring and that this can take many--equally

damaging--forms.If that damage has impacted your life and impeded your

progress,then it is damage.The equalizer is that we've all been damaged here by

having had a nada.

I'm going to come clean now and try to explain why I do recall so much

with clarity.I feel like I've been sort of lying by omission in my posts because

I've been leaving this part out.Surely alot of my recall was heightened by

fear,but that's not all of it.

This is a big part of my hesitance in writing my experience out as a

memoir--that,for it to be believable,that I'd have to include this disclaimer or

" justification " : I remember all of this stuff so clearly because I am not normal

myself.I have a freak of nature IQ.

I'm not lying or conjecturing or embellishing--I really do recall events

from very early on and very clearly.Maybe other people don't or wouldn't,but

being in my head is not like it is for most people.I've struggled with being

different like this all of my life and nada hated me for it.It is one of the

reasons she tried to systemically destroy me.It is one of the main reasons why I

have such a hard time accepting myself as I am.

She wanted a little blob she could mold to serve her,not a child like

me,who thought all the time.She told me once, " I wanted a little girl who would

grow up to be a cheerleader and date the captain of the football team and

instead I got a seven year old vegetarian marxist. "

I was actually transitioning out of my marxist phase by the time I was

seven,but nada wasn't just gilding the lilly there: I totally was not like the

other kids.

I was so bored in kindergarten because I could already do all the class

work that I was disruptive.My teacher suggested to nada and fada that I be

skipped up to at least the second grade,but they weren't interested.Nobody had

ever said that about them,so why should I be any different! The teacher and I

were often at loggerheads and were making eachother miserable.She arranged for

me to take an IQ test,apparently thinking this would be ammunition for her

campaign to have me skipped ahead.She didn't understand what she was dealing

with,with nada and fada.

The IQ test result was that,at five,I had the intellectual capacity of a

twelve year old.Nada and fada still refused to have me put ahead even to the

first grade.I remember the kindergarten teacher saying to nada, " We could put her

across the hall in the sixth grade and she'd do fine " but nada wouldn't budge.

I later had to take another IQ test as part of the admissions process to

a country day school nada sent me to at thirteen and the results were also in

the freak of nature range,so-called " profoundly gifted " .

That is why,at six,I was thinking about stuff teenagers more typically

think about.I was still emotionally six,but intellectually I was not.That is why

nada was frightened of me--and she was.She had been frightened of me since I had

been a very alert newborn.I had never been a normal baby.I started to speak at

four months--something my grandmother corroborated,not just nada.I figured out

how to read at two and I'd be trotted out by my parents to read things from

books or the newspaper to guests,for their amusment,like I was a circus animal.

There is no line of exceptionally gifted people in my FOO.I wasn't like any

of them.They didn't know what to make of me.I have no idea why I'm like this.I'm

left handed and had a traumatic forceps birth--but I don't know if brain damage

can make you be like this.Nada starved me in the womb because she had changed

her mind about having me and I was born overdue--induced-- but at a preemie

weight and size.But I don't know if that " explains " it.It shouldn't,it should be

the opposite,right?

I have other memories of feeling like the adult to nada's child,I just

chose that one from when I was six because it seemed like the easiest one for

others to understand.But you noticed there was something odd about it.It was

beyond just being forced to be mature because my mother was insane,although

that's a big part of it.Another part of it is me,just how I was.

I remember being three and a half and losing nada in a Woolworth's.It was

more like being the parent who loses sight of a child than being the child who

gets separated from the mother.NADA is the one who wandered off,not me.I was

distracted for a moment by some thought and when I looked around,she was gone.

I walked down the main aisle looking for her in the side aisles but didn't

see her.A man passing by gave me a strange look and I pretended to walk off

after my mother,calling, " I'm coming Mom " as I walked away.I thought of going up

to the cashier to ask for help but there was a line,including the man who had

given me that strange look.I thought I'd have to stand in line to ask for help!

I wandered over to the restaurant to ask another employee,a waitress,for

help,but I waited and no waitress appeared.I was panicking.To calm myself down I

thought of where nada usually went in the store.She usually went straight to the

pets section.There were always the same fish and hamsters and parakeets,but she

always went there first like it was new every time.

I walked towards the pets section,glancing down the side aisles as I

went.Two aisles before the pets section,in the toy aisle,there was nada.

My little brother was standing next to her with his dummy in his

mouth,staring blankly off into space.Nada was sitting on the floor playing with

a doll.

I'll never forget this.I was lost in Woolworth's searching for my mother

in a panic and she was in the toy aisle playing with a doll.When I first saw

her,I felt dizzy and breathless,like I would go crazy on the spot.

I walked over to her but she ignored me.I said sternly, " I was looking for

you.I couldn't find you.You can't just walk off like that. "

She said petulantly,like a brat, " I was right here. "

" While you were playing with that doll,I was very worried and I was

looking for you. "

" I was right here the whole time " ,she said like a brat.

" I didn't know that " ,I told her.I was angry.

" Well,I was right here... "

I wanted to put her over my knee and spank her.That is all I wanted to

do.The physical impossibility of that...me three and a half years old and her

too big for me to do that..it was enough to make me feel as if I would go

insane.

Truth to tell,I felt older than her even then,at three.By the time I

was six I knew how she was.Both of my parents were clueless.I have always had a

very retentative memory,I just do.I don't have to concentrate on it,it just is

that way.Whenever we'd drive somewhere,I naturally recalled the route.I could

see it in my mind,which number exit we took off the highway; how many lights

until we made a right at such and such a road...Many times when we were driving

somewhere they'd have to ask me which exit do we need to take,what was the name

of that road we turned off on,how many lights did we go through...fada driving

and I'm the only one who knows how to get where we're going...at four years

old,five years old...it was surreal...

It just adds another layer of craziness to this whole thing.One day when I

was five nada wanted to play hopscotch with me.That was nice,nada wanting to

actually do something with me.Nada drew up the hopscotch pattern with chalk on

the sidewalk.She was very proud of herself for being able to do this.I hopped a

couple of rounds with her and got bored.

At the time,Idi Amin was expelling Asians from Uganda.I read the

newspaper and watched the news.I had been very stuck by Idi Amin and the whole

idea of an African leader guiding his country to liberation from colonialism--I

had been very interested in the fact that African-Americans had come originally

to this country as slaves from Africa.But now he was doing this bad thing and

from what I was hearing on the news and reading in the paper,he was like the

demon of the moment.I didn't understand it.Was what Marcus Garvey had wanted to

do with Liberia the right thing to do--and if a native born African assumed such

a position of power,was it true he'd really destroy his own country by expelling

the people who ran the businesses? I felt like I couldn't sort out the

propaganda from the truth--the stories on tv of Asians being expelled were very

highly charged with emotion and yet before that happened they'd been saying

basically that Idi Amin was this powerful African leader...I wanted nada (of all

people) to help me to understand it.

She was still playing hopscotch and I was asking her these questions and

she was ignoring me.I foolishly persisted.She told me to play the game with

her,on the edge of impatience with me.

I said,trying to be apologetic, " I can see the possible sequences we'd go

through with this game and it just doesn't seem very interesting to me,all we're

doing is going back and forth-- "

She threw the a piece of chalk at the ground and screamed, " Why can't you

be normal? Why can't you just enjoy a game of hopscotch,what the hell does Idi

Amin have to do with it??? What is WRONG with you? "

Well,you're supposed to be an adult who reads the newspapers and watches

the news.But you seem more interested in hopscotch,as if you are a child and I

am an adult...

She was angry with me,much earlier,when she got some " Dick and Jane "

books and tried to teach me to read and I could already read them.She was angry

with me,around that same time,when she tried to teach me basic math skills and I

wanted to know if there is an infinite number because I'd noticed my reflection

multiplied to forever in a corner of the bathroom mirror.I had already memorized

the multiplication tables on the back of the notebook a neighbor's grammar

school daughter nada babysat had and had wondered if there was a name for the

number I had extrapolated from ten times one thousand.

To nada,I was most definitely a freak.And a threat: she had to be the

most clever,the most bright.I was supposed to need her brilliance and to be in

awe of it.I had been nothing but a thorn in her side since the day I was born,if

not from the time I was conceived.I was not what she had wanted.

And every time I made her feel " bad " about herself or less than,she

wished I was dead.I was her enemy,not the special and unusual child she had been

given to raise,just an enemy to her ego.She then felt justified in beating me

down by any means--and even when I took that IQ test in kindergarten,she thought

the result was more because I was demonic than abnormally bright.And so she

demonized me--I was the demon who tormented her on purpose.Not a child,as she

believed a child should be.

And my brother...I was going to start a topic about this...It seems to me

that he was corrupted from the cradle.From the time he was a little baby,if he

was upset,it was my fault.He was constantly told how evil I was,how I was the

one who made him cry.

I guess it's no wonder he sees me as thoroughly bad.

Sorry for this long venting post.I have major issues with this.I have alot

of sorting out to do.I have an unusual nada history,yet there is still the

commonality of a nada striking at the core of your being,no matter what it is.I

have taken on nada's perception of me as a freak.I know that I need to disown

that but it's hard when you're different from many people--and the way you are

seems strange not just to nada but to the rest of the world too.

But I'd at least like to try not to continue to hide that here.I have a

mortal fear of disclosing my true inner self because it made my own mother want

to destroy me.Maybe that is something others here can relate to,even if your

reasons are not quite like mine?

Thanks again for your reply Suzy and apologies for this rambling rant.I

need to deal with this--your post was very helpful and it reminded me that truly

I need to deal with this part of the puzzle.It makes me crazy--the most

fundamental part of me rejected by my mother (and seen as odd by the wider

society,so it's like she wins) so that it seems much more like a liability than

an asset.

>

> ,

>

> I didn't become aware of feeling more " mature " than my nada until more into my

teens. I was not forced into that role so clearly as you had to be early on to

survive.

>

> What strikes me about your story, other than it being yet another awful and

unbelievable experience your nada put you through is 1) that you had such a

clear sense of its " wrongness " at such a young age - wow, 2)that your nada had

no grasp of the the danger she put herself in, and moreso her children, and 3)

that you remember these events with such clarity. There must be some fine line

between events that are so horrible - they're suppressed, and others that are

also bad but branded in memory. My heart cries for this little girl, so

terrified, yet holding it together to protect her little brother - and trying to

get her mother to see some sense. And then you were demonized for it. I have

to wonder if your brother was too young to understand and bought into her

portrayal of you - and that's why he still only sees her through filters. I have

no doubt that as reasoned and mature as you were (had to be) at such a young

age, you must have actually frightened your nada in some way. I think she

recognized on some level that you were far more mature and intelligent than she

would ever be.

>

> As for your sadness, I'm guessing your reasons may be twofold. If you feel any

sadness for your nada, then you have an amazing capacity for compassion for a

sick, twisted person who will never know growth, or love, or the truth of just

how remarkable her daughter is. And how can there not be sadness for your own

lost childhood - you were never really allowed to just be a little girl - let

alone one who felt safe and loved.

>

> However, I would like to hope that the sadness can be, may be a sign that

you're moving a little toward healing. I think that if you can ever reach a

place beyond the pain, and numbness and disconnectedness and anger (and all the

feelings that an abusive childhood engenders), and just feel the sadness that

remains for what was - what is, then maybe that's the one thing that you can

learn to live with. I hope that makes sense....

>

> Suzy

>

[Guest guest]

Hi ,

I have been overwhelmed by all the e-mails so I have to delete many of them so I

don't miss my other e-mails. Do most people create a new e-mail address for this

group?

I don't know what my IQ is but my family is all adequately endowed in this way.

I am different than most of them  in that I am extremely sensitive. When I

discuss my perceptions with my dad who is very sensitive like me (and presumed

by me to have BPD) he would call me arrogant. He would not just say I was

arrogant, but would say it with such hatred it seared me so deeply. I am also

like him, very open and honest about my feelings. I can't seem to help it. I

don't know why. I don't blurt out things to hurt people, I am sensitive and

careful not to hurt them, but sometimes my honesty does hurt them nevertheless.

It gets me into a lot of trouble with my dad even though he is the same way.

I have lots of friends who like my honesty, some love me for it.

This seemed to happen as I became an adult. As a child I was not ridiculed so

much for it. My dad seemed to like me the most in some not overtly apparent way.

(Dare I admit that?...He may not have, but it seemed he had a special affection

for me).But when I became an teen, he hated me for it. I have a teen who is like

me and I understand, but it helps me not lash out at her! And my adult life too.

I was terrified to be alone with him and he was terrified to be alone with me as

well.

Now that Dad and I are living together, I am so grateful to him. He is facing

his fear of me because he feels responsible for me. He loved my mom so much in

their retirement, and she wanted me to leave my husband so badly, I feel he did

it to honor her wishes. And he is trying so hard to honor them. We talk now,

more often, when his mood allows it, and we are making progress. But it is

scary. He could turn at any moment. The closer we get, the riskier the hurt. But

somehow I keep going. Knowing he could die soon, having lost my mom, knowing how

one feels afterward. I keep going.

I realized my husband who seemed perfect for me, could only tolerate my feelings

that are so overwhelming for many people because he was totally tuned out. He

liked that I rambled about my feelings because he was terrified to trust people

and if I rambled constantly about my feelings, he knew what I was up to. How

embarrassing the realization!

Thank you again for helping me get in touch there. I know I did not experience

the alienation of what you experienced. And your insight into the deep sadness

of your mother's illness is a wonderful thing. It will help you release some of

the self-hatred she taught you my mistake. And your intelligence can be used as

the gift it is when you are able to stop hiding it and share it with the world

you are an integral part of.

Leanne

Subject: Re: Did you feel older than nada as a kid?

To: WTOAdultChildren1

Date: Saturday, November 7, 2009, 7:26 AM

 

Hi,Suzy...Your post made alot of sense and I thank you sincerely,again, for your

sensitive and supportive response.Your post touched on a point a close friend of

mine thinks is the crux of my problems--and where nada struck most devastatingly

at the core of my being: my mind...You're right that feeling sadness for what

was/is represents a healing that I can handle--I never did feel much sorrow for

nada's tragic dysfunction but after I wrote the first post in this thread it hit

me like a ton of bricks: not just that one incident but the totality of her

madness makes me feel incredibly sorry for her.Sad for her,deeply sad.I wasn't

expecting that at all.I am seeing her actions more and more not as the child she

traumatized by them but as an adult who sees how pathetic she was.But with

that,I see more and more how I was sacrificed to her insanity--so my pity is

tempered by horror at the extent of the wreckage she has wrought in my own life.

It seems to me from reading the posts on this board that nadas will always find

some way to mind f*ck their offspring and that this can take many--equally

damaging--forms. If that damage has impacted your life and impeded your

progress,then it is damage.The equalizer is that we've all been damaged here by

having had a nada.

I'm going to come clean now and try to explain why I do recall so much with

clarity.I feel like I've been sort of lying by omission in my posts because I've

been leaving this part out.Surely alot of my recall was heightened by fear,but

that's not all of it.

This is a big part of my hesitance in writing my experience out as a

memoir--that, for it to be believable,that I'd have to include this disclaimer

or " justification " : I remember all of this stuff so clearly because I am not

normal myself.I have a freak of nature IQ.

I'm not lying or conjecturing or embellishing- -I really do recall events from

very early on and very clearly.Maybe other people don't or wouldn't,but being in

my head is not like it is for most people.I've struggled with being different

like this all of my life and nada hated me for it.It is one of the reasons she

tried to systemically destroy me.It is one of the main reasons why I have such a

hard time accepting myself as I am.

She wanted a little blob she could mold to serve her,not a child like me,who

thought all the time.She told me once, " I wanted a little girl who would grow up

to be a cheerleader and date the captain of the football team and instead I got

a seven year old vegetarian marxist. "

I was actually transitioning out of my marxist phase by the time I was seven,but

nada wasn't just gilding the lilly there: I totally was not like the other kids.

I was so bored in kindergarten because I could already do all the class work

that I was disruptive.My teacher suggested to nada and fada that I be skipped up

to at least the second grade,but they weren't interested.Nobody had ever said

that about them,so why should I be any different! The teacher and I were often

at loggerheads and were making eachother miserable.She arranged for me to take

an IQ test,apparently thinking this would be ammunition for her campaign to have

me skipped ahead.She didn't understand what she was dealing with,with nada and

fada.

The IQ test result was that,at five,I had the intellectual capacity of a twelve

year old.Nada and fada still refused to have me put ahead even to the first

grade.I remember the kindergarten teacher saying to nada, " We could put her

across the hall in the sixth grade and she'd do fine " but nada wouldn't budge.

I later had to take another IQ test as part of the admissions process to a

country day school nada sent me to at thirteen and the results were also in the

freak of nature range,so-called " profoundly gifted " .

That is why,at six,I was thinking about stuff teenagers more typically think

about.I was still emotionally six,but intellectually I was not.That is why nada

was frightened of me--and she was.She had been frightened of me since I had been

a very alert newborn.I had never been a normal baby.I started to speak at four

months--something my grandmother corroborated, not just nada.I figured out how

to read at two and I'd be trotted out by my parents to read things from books or

the newspaper to guests,for their amusment,like I was a circus animal.

There is no line of exceptionally gifted people in my FOO.I wasn't like any of

them.They didn't know what to make of me.I have no idea why I'm like this.I'm

left handed and had a traumatic forceps birth--but I don't know if brain damage

can make you be like this.Nada starved me in the womb because she had changed

her mind about having me and I was born overdue--induced- - but at a preemie

weight and size.But I don't know if that " explains " it.It shouldn't,it should be

the opposite,right?

I have other memories of feeling like the adult to nada's child,I just chose

that one from when I was six because it seemed like the easiest one for others

to understand.But you noticed there was something odd about it.It was beyond

just being forced to be mature because my mother was insane,although that's a

big part of it.Another part of it is me,just how I was.

I remember being three and a half and losing nada in a Woolworth's. It was more

like being the parent who loses sight of a child than being the child who gets

separated from the mother.NADA is the one who wandered off,not me.I was

distracted for a moment by some thought and when I looked around,she was gone.

I walked down the main aisle looking for her in the side aisles but didn't see

her.A man passing by gave me a strange look and I pretended to walk off after my

mother,calling, " I'm coming Mom " as I walked away.I thought of going up to the

cashier to ask for help but there was a line,including the man who had given me

that strange look.I thought I'd have to stand in line to ask for help!

I wandered over to the restaurant to ask another employee,a waitress,for

help,but I waited and no waitress appeared.I was panicking.To calm myself down I

thought of where nada usually went in the store.She usually went straight to the

pets section.There were always the same fish and hamsters and parakeets,but she

always went there first like it was new every time.

I walked towards the pets section,glancing down the side aisles as I went.Two

aisles before the pets section,in the toy aisle,there was nada.

My little brother was standing next to her with his dummy in his mouth,staring

blankly off into space.Nada was sitting on the floor playing with a doll.

I'll never forget this.I was lost in Woolworth's searching for my mother in a

panic and she was in the toy aisle playing with a doll.When I first saw her,I

felt dizzy and breathless,like I would go crazy on the spot.

I walked over to her but she ignored me.I said sternly, " I was looking for you.I

couldn't find you.You can't just walk off like that. "

She said petulantly,like a brat, " I was right here. "

" While you were playing with that doll,I was very worried and I was looking for

you. "

" I was right here the whole time " ,she said like a brat.

" I didn't know that " ,I told her.I was angry.

" Well,I was right here... "

I wanted to put her over my knee and spank her.That is all I wanted to do.The

physical impossibility of that...me three and a half years old and her too big

for me to do that..it was enough to make me feel as if I would go insane.

Truth to tell,I felt older than her even then,at three.By the time I was six I

knew how she was.Both of my parents were clueless.I have always had a very

retentative memory,I just do.I don't have to concentrate on it,it just is that

way.Whenever we'd drive somewhere,I naturally recalled the route.I could see it

in my mind,which number exit we took off the highway; how many lights until we

made a right at such and such a road...Many times when we were driving somewhere

they'd have to ask me which exit do we need to take,what was the name of that

road we turned off on,how many lights did we go through...fada driving and I'm

the only one who knows how to get where we're going...at four years old,five

years old...it was surreal...

It just adds another layer of craziness to this whole thing.One day when I was

five nada wanted to play hopscotch with me.That was nice,nada wanting to

actually do something with me.Nada drew up the hopscotch pattern with chalk on

the sidewalk.She was very proud of herself for being able to do this.I hopped a

couple of rounds with her and got bored.

At the time,Idi Amin was expelling Asians from Uganda.I read the newspaper and

watched the news.I had been very stuck by Idi Amin and the whole idea of an

African leader guiding his country to liberation from colonialism- -I had been

very interested in the fact that African-Americans had come originally to this

country as slaves from Africa.But now he was doing this bad thing and from what

I was hearing on the news and reading in the paper,he was like the demon of the

moment.I didn't understand it.Was what Marcus Garvey had wanted to do with

Liberia the right thing to do--and if a native born African assumed such a

position of power,was it true he'd really destroy his own country by expelling

the people who ran the businesses? I felt like I couldn't sort out the

propaganda from the truth--the stories on tv of Asians being expelled were very

highly charged with emotion and yet before that happened they'd been saying

basically that Idi Amin was this

powerful African leader...I wanted nada (of all people) to help me to

understand it.

She was still playing hopscotch and I was asking her these questions and she was

ignoring me.I foolishly persisted.She told me to play the game with her,on the

edge of impatience with me.

I said,trying to be apologetic, " I can see the possible sequences we'd go

through with this game and it just doesn't seem very interesting to me,all we're

doing is going back and forth-- "

She threw the a piece of chalk at the ground and screamed, " Why can't you be

normal? Why can't you just enjoy a game of hopscotch,what the hell does Idi Amin

have to do with it??? What is WRONG with you? "

Well,you're supposed to be an adult who reads the newspapers and watches the

news.But you seem more interested in hopscotch,as if you are a child and I am an

adult...

She was angry with me,much earlier,when she got some " Dick and Jane " books and

tried to teach me to read and I could already read them.She was angry with

me,around that same time,when she tried to teach me basic math skills and I

wanted to know if there is an infinite number because I'd noticed my reflection

multiplied to forever in a corner of the bathroom mirror.I had already memorized

the multiplication tables on the back of the notebook a neighbor's grammar

school daughter nada babysat had and had wondered if there was a name for the

number I had extrapolated from ten times one thousand.

To nada,I was most definitely a freak.And a threat: she had to be the most

clever,the most bright.I was supposed to need her brilliance and to be in awe of

it.I had been nothing but a thorn in her side since the day I was born,if not

from the time I was conceived.I was not what she had wanted.

And every time I made her feel " bad " about herself or less than,she wished I was

dead.I was her enemy,not the special and unusual child she had been given to

raise,just an enemy to her ego.She then felt justified in beating me down by any

means--and even when I took that IQ test in kindergarten, she thought the result

was more because I was demonic than abnormally bright.And so she demonized me--I

was the demon who tormented her on purpose.Not a child,as she believed a child

should be.

And my brother...I was going to start a topic about this...It seems to me that

he was corrupted from the cradle.From the time he was a little baby,if he was

upset,it was my fault.He was constantly told how evil I was,how I was the one

who made him cry.

I guess it's no wonder he sees me as thoroughly bad.

Sorry for this long venting post.I have major issues with this.I have alot of

sorting out to do.I have an unusual nada history,yet there is still the

commonality of a nada striking at the core of your being,no matter what it is.I

have taken on nada's perception of me as a freak.I know that I need to disown

that but it's hard when you're different from many people--and the way you are

seems strange not just to nada but to the rest of the world too..

But I'd at least like to try not to continue to hide that here.I have a mortal

fear of disclosing my true inner self because it made my own mother want to

destroy me.Maybe that is something others here can relate to,even if your

reasons are not quite like mine?

Thanks again for your reply Suzy and apologies for this rambling rant.I need to

deal with this--your post was very helpful and it reminded me that truly I need

to deal with this part of the puzzle.It makes me crazy--the most fundamental

part of me rejected by my mother (and seen as odd by the wider society,so it's

like she wins) so that it seems much more like a liability than an asset.

>

> ,

>

> I didn't become aware of feeling more " mature " than my nada until more into my

teens. I was not forced into that role so clearly as you had to be early on to

survive.

>

> What strikes me about your story, other than it being yet another awful and

unbelievable experience your nada put you through is 1) that you had such a

clear sense of its " wrongness " at such a young age - wow, 2)that your nada had

no grasp of the the danger she put herself in, and moreso her children, and 3)

that you remember these events with such clarity. There must be some fine line

between events that are so horrible - they're suppressed, and others that are

also bad but branded in memory. My heart cries for this little girl, so

terrified, yet holding it together to protect her little brother - and trying to

get her mother to see some sense. And then you were demonized for it. I have to

wonder if your brother was too young to understand and bought into her portrayal

of you - and that's why he still only sees her through filters. I have no doubt

that as reasoned and mature as you were (had to be) at such a young age, you

must have actually

frightened your nada in some way. I think she recognized on some level that you

were far more mature and intelligent than she would ever be.

>

> As for your sadness, I'm guessing your reasons may be twofold. If you feel any

sadness for your nada, then you have an amazing capacity for compassion for a

sick, twisted person who will never know growth, or love, or the truth of just

how remarkable her daughter is. And how can there not be sadness for your own

lost childhood - you were never really allowed to just be a little girl - let

alone one who felt safe and loved.

>

> However, I would like to hope that the sadness can be, may be a sign that

you're moving a little toward healing. I think that if you can ever reach a

place beyond the pain, and numbness and disconnectedness and anger (and all the

feelings that an abusive childhood engenders), and just feel the sadness that

remains for what was - what is, then maybe that's the one thing that you can

learn to live with. I hope that makes sense....

>

> Suzy

>

[Guest guest]

Well put, I agree.

-Annie

> > >

> > > Yes, en experience similar to yours and other experiences. I was in H.S.

around 16. This was the first time in years that I had been with nada. I had

been with my Fada and S.M. The live style was a shock, she would breeze in and

out at all hours, with different men while I was at home trying to do school

work. She would often interupt so that I could " entertain her " . There was one

point where she tried to get me to try pot. I was shocked, and refused (big

mistake, sent her into a rage). I was one of the fortunate ones that was never

peer presured into doing drugs from my peers, just presured my nada. She had

several different addictions, a few months after that she decided that she

needed my help to withdrawl off of Adivan, I stayed up with her night after

night while she cried, raged, vomited and not to mention the non stop wanting to

give up. She became pregnant after that, and would sit on the top of the stairs

and slide down on her bottom until she

> > > had a miscarriage. I would stay up worry if she would make it home safe,

or if our home was safe. She would go through drive throughs backwards for

laughs. I came from my dads house, which, we had bed times, school work and

grades mattered, we had food on a regular basis, no one was up past 10pm on a

weeknight, I always had a bed to sleep in to staying up all night, she never

looked at my report card or cared about school work or if I even went, drugs,

different men, moving from place to place, sometimes having to share a bed with

her if it wasn't occupied by someone else and not that I knew it then..but BPD.

I felt like I was the adult at all times. I had to be, to survive her. Sadly,

she is still the same, just older, slower and a lot less men.

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > > ________________________________

> > > From: christine.depizan <christine.depizan@>

> > > To: WTOAdultChildren1

> > > Sent: Thu, November 5, 2009 7:42:40 AM

> > > Subject: Did you feel older than nada as a kid?

> > >

> > >  

> > > A couple of recent topics have reminded me of the surreal feeling I had

fairly often growing up of actually asking myself if I wasn't more " mature " than

my own mother--and asking myself how in the world that could be.It was so weird

and scary to feel that way.I was wondering if anyone else remembers feeling

something like this.

> > >

> > > When I was six we were going one day to visit her high school best friend:

nada,me and my brother in the car.We were stopped at a red light out in the

countryside- -it was a gorgeous late Spring day and Simon's song

" Kodachrome " was playing on the radio.I was sitting in the back with my brother

enjoying the ride and the day because I always loved going to see this friend of

nada's who was very nice.We didn't get to see her enough,I thought.

> > >

> > > Anyway,we were stopped at a red light and a group of young men seemed (to

me) to appear from out of nowhere.They pounded on the car hood and sort of

gathered around the stopped car.I was shocked and very frightened,but nada was

all giggles and she asked them if she could give them " a ride " .

> > >

> > > They piled into the car,including in the back seat where my brother and I

kind of got pushed to the side.I put my arms around my brother and held him

close to me because I was scared and to somehow shield him.Nada was giggling

away,asking them questions about where they were going,what were their names,tra

la la,and seemed to be having a ball.

> > >

> > > We ended up driving out of our way and I was very relieved when they got

out of the car--they had seemed raucous to me and rude.I was also shaking with

upset and fear.And angry--I was fully aware of feeling angry with nada.

> > >

> > > I couldn't help it,she seemed so pleased and non-plussed by the whole

thing,I had to say something.I didn't want her to ever do something like that

again.

> > >

> > > I was SIX YEARS OLD and I had to say to a thirty one year old woman, " How

could you be so irresponsible? "

> > >

> > > Nada was like,what? What do you mean,how can you be so silly? She told me

lightly, " Oh, D (the best friend we were on the way to see) and I used to do that

all the time in college,pick up hitch hikers and we'd tease them for a while

then drop them off somewhere,it was a riot... "

> > >

> > > I had to remind her: " Mom,you're not in college anymore and you have two

small children in the car with you. "

> > >

> > > She stopped the car and told me to get out and when I refused,yelled at

me, " I have ONE CHILD in this car with me! You're not a child,I don't know what

you are! You're some kind of demon in a little girl's body,you're NOT a child.I

should just shove you out of the car and leave you here,you know so much,you'll

do just fine all on your own! "

> > >

> > > She took off speeding.My brother was now crying and she yelled at me, " You

see what you did! Are you proud of yourself now,you made B cry again? You've

succeeded in ruining this day now for both of us. "

> > >

> > > I was left bewildered by the whole thing.How could it be that I knew she'd

done something wrong (and dangerous) and she didn't? Was it really because there

was something horribly abnormal about ME?

> > >

> > > And what if she did something like that again and I couldn't stop her?

What if something really bad happened to us?

> > >

> > > I decided to " tattle " on her to my grandfather, her father,and I did.She

was very hateful to me after that but she never picked up another hitchhiker.I

also wonder if she was planning on having a big laugh with her friend over

picking up those guys and if things like that are the reason why,whenever we did

see this woman,it was nada going to see her--she very very rarely ever came to

see us.This friend of hers had gotten married and had kids and grown up and it

seemed like nada never did grow up in the same way.Why does that make me feel so

sad?

> > >

> > > Does anyone else have an experience like this?

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

[Guest guest]

I have learned so much from this group. I have learned to reach out to my dad.

It is so scary but I can't explain it. I also understand what my mother went

through with him. I don't feel the need to be understood by everyone anymore.

Knowing there are so many people hurt out there. I can see it in peoples eyes. I

always reach out to them with my eyes. It is not a contest of who hurts more

than the other like my dad always competed. I tell him I'm sorry he suffered and

he has understandable personality traits from that. Its okay if he works on it

and I can see he is working on it. I see you all working so hard and I am so

uplifted in my heart. (Forgive my sentimentality). I feel so much less alone. I

am in a domestic violence support group. I feel this is where I will put my

energy when I am back on my feet. Thank you all.

Leanne

Subject: Re: Did you feel older than nada as a kid?

To: WTOAdultChildren1

Date: Saturday, November 7, 2009, 10:38 AM

 

Well put, I agree.

-Annie

> > >

> > > Yes, en experience similar to yours and other experiences. I was in H..S.

around 16. This was the first time in years that I had been with nada. I had

been with my Fada and S.M. The live style was a shock, she would breeze in

and out at all hours, with different men while I was at home trying to do school

work. She would often interupt so that I could " entertain her " . There was one

point where she tried to get me to try pot. I was shocked, and refused (big

mistake, sent her into a rage). I was one of the fortunate ones that was never

peer presured into doing drugs from my peers, just presured my nada. She had

several different addictions, a few months after that she decided that she

needed my help to withdrawl off of Adivan, I stayed up with her night after

night while she cried, raged, vomited and not to mention the non stop wanting to

give up. She became pregnant after that, and would sit on the top of the stairs

and slide down on her bottom

until she

> > > had a miscarriage. I would stay up worry if she would make it home safe,

or if our home was safe. She would go through drive throughs backwards for

laughs. I came from my dads house, which, we had bed times, school work and

grades mattered, we had food on a regular basis, no one was up past 10pm on a

weeknight, I always had a bed to sleep in to staying up all night, she never

looked at my report card or cared about school work or if I even went, drugs,

different men, moving from place to place, sometimes having to share a bed with

her if it wasn't occupied by someone else and not that I knew it then..but BPD.

I felt like I was the adult at all times. I had to be, to survive her. Sadly,

she is still the same, just older, slower and a lot less men.

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > > ____________ _________ _________ __

> > > From: christine.depizan <christine.depizan@ >

> > > To: WTOAdultChildren1@ yahoogroups. com

> > > Sent: Thu, November 5, 2009 7:42:40 AM

> > > Subject: Did you feel older than nada as a kid?

> > >

> > >  

> > > A couple of recent topics have reminded me of the surreal feeling I had

fairly often growing up of actually asking myself if I wasn't more " mature " than

my own mother--and asking myself how in the world that could be.It was so weird

and scary to feel that way.I was wondering if anyone else remembers feeling

something like this.

> > >

> > > When I was six we were going one day to visit her high school best friend:

nada,me and my brother in the car.We were stopped at a red light out in the

countryside- -it was a gorgeous late Spring day and Simon's song

" Kodachrome " was playing on the radio.I was sitting in the back with my brother

enjoying the ride and the day because I always loved going to see this friend of

nada's who was very nice.We didn't get to see her enough,I thought.

> > >

> > > Anyway,we were stopped at a red light and a group of young men seemed (to

me) to appear from out of nowhere.They pounded on the car hood and sort of

gathered around the stopped car.I was shocked and very frightened,but nada was

all giggles and she asked them if she could give them " a ride " .

> > >

> > > They piled into the car,including in the back seat where my brother and I

kind of got pushed to the side.I put my arms around my brother and held him

close to me because I was scared and to somehow shield him.Nada was giggling

away,asking them questions about where they were going,what were their names,tra

la la,and seemed to be having a ball.

> > >

> > > We ended up driving out of our way and I was very relieved when they got

out of the car--they had seemed raucous to me and rude.I was also shaking with

upset and fear.And angry--I was fully aware of feeling angry with nada.

> > >

> > > I couldn't help it,she seemed so pleased and non-plussed by the whole

thing,I had to say something.I didn't want her to ever do something like that

again.

> > >

> > > I was SIX YEARS OLD and I had to say to a thirty one year old woman, " How

could you be so irresponsible? "

> > >

> > > Nada was like,what? What do you mean,how can you be so silly? She told me

lightly, " Oh, D (the best friend we were on the way to see) and I used to do that

all the time in college,pick up hitch hikers and we'd tease them for a while

then drop them off somewhere,it was a riot... "

> > >

> > > I had to remind her: " Mom,you're not in college anymore and you have two

small children in the car with you. "

> > >

> > > She stopped the car and told me to get out and when I refused,yelled at

me, " I have ONE CHILD in this car with me! You're not a child,I don't know what

you are! You're some kind of demon in a little girl's body,you're NOT a child.I

should just shove you out of the car and leave you here,you know so much,you'll

do just fine all on your own! "

> > >

> > > She took off speeding.My brother was now crying and she yelled at me, " You

see what you did! Are you proud of yourself now,you made B cry again? You've

succeeded in ruining this day now for both of us. "

> > >

> > > I was left bewildered by the whole thing.How could it be that I knew she'd

done something wrong (and dangerous) and she didn't? Was it really because there

was something horribly abnormal about ME?

> > >

> > > And what if she did something like that again and I couldn't stop her?

What if something really bad happened to us?

> > >

> > > I decided to " tattle " on her to my grandfather, her father,and I did.She

was very hateful to me after that but she never picked up another hitchhiker.I

also wonder if she was planning on having a big laugh with her friend over

picking up those guys and if things like that are the reason why,whenever we did

see this woman,it was nada going to see her--she very very rarely ever came to

see us.This friend of hers had gotten married and had kids and grown up and it

seemed like nada never did grow up in the same way.Why does that make me feel so

sad?

> > >

> > > Does anyone else have an experience like this?

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

[Guest guest]

Here is an abstract of a study that concludes that those with personality

disorder are more likely to commit violent acts than

those with other kinds of mental illness:

http://ajp.psychiatryonline.org/cgi/content/full/159/12/1973

A chilling excerpt from this study:

" ... and colleagues (7) found an elevated base rate for violence of 14.4

% among subjects with a DSM-IV personality disorder diagnosis. Perhaps more

important, personality disorder symptoms proved to be even stronger predictors

of violence than did an overall diagnosis. In fact, increased symptoms of DSM-IV

cluster A or cluster B personality disorder corresponded to a greater likelihood

of violence in the community during adolescence and early adulthood. Paranoid,

narcissistic, and passive-aggressive personality disorder symptoms correlated

significantly with violence. "

And here is an excerpt from a different article about women who kill their

children:

" According to the American Anthropological Association, more than 200 women kill

their children in the United States each year. Three to five children a day are

killed by their parents. Homicide is one of the leading causes of death of

children under age four, yet we continue to " persist with the unrealistic view

that this is rare behavior, " says Jill Korbin, expert on child abuse, who has

studied mothers who killed their children.

We should detach from the idea of universal motherhood as natural and see it as

a social response, " Scheper-, medical anthropologist says. Women in

jail reported that no-one believed them when they said they wanted to kill their

children. " There's a collective denial even when mothers come right out and say,

" I really shouldn't be trusted with my kids. "

A look at the rolls of women who are currently on death row, and the crimes that

put them there, shows that women who kill their children are indeed not as rare

as we would like to believe. Of the 49 women on death row, 11 killed children. "

***

So according to the author of that article, Montaldo, there is

definitely " collective denial " ; society wants and needs to believe that every

woman is naturally a good mother.

The child-killing mothers diagnosed with full-blown psychosis don't wind up on

death row, they're in mental institutions, but the ones on death row are

considered " legally sane " so I'm betting they're Cluster B pds or psychopaths.

-Annie

> > >

> > > Yes, en experience similar to yours and other experiences. I was in H.S.

around 16. This was the first time in years that I had been with nada. I had

been with my Fada and S.M. The live style was a shock, she would breeze in and

out at all hours, with different men while I was at home trying to do school

work. She would often interupt so that I could " entertain her " . There was one

point where she tried to get me to try pot. I was shocked, and refused (big

mistake, sent her into a rage). I was one of the fortunate ones that was never

peer presured into doing drugs from my peers, just presured my nada. She had

several different addictions, a few months after that she decided that she

needed my help to withdrawl off of Adivan, I stayed up with her night after

night while she cried, raged, vomited and not to mention the non stop wanting to

give up. She became pregnant after that, and would sit on the top of the stairs

and slide down on her bottom until she

> > > had a miscarriage. I would stay up worry if she would make it home safe,

or if our home was safe. She would go through drive throughs backwards for

laughs. I came from my dads house, which, we had bed times, school work and

grades mattered, we had food on a regular basis, no one was up past 10pm on a

weeknight, I always had a bed to sleep in to staying up all night, she never

looked at my report card or cared about school work or if I even went, drugs,

different men, moving from place to place, sometimes having to share a bed with

her if it wasn't occupied by someone else and not that I knew it then..but BPD.

I felt like I was the adult at all times. I had to be, to survive her. Sadly,

she is still the same, just older, slower and a lot less men.

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > > ________________________________

> > > From: christine.depizan <christine.depizan@>

> > > To: WTOAdultChildren1

> > > Sent: Thu, November 5, 2009 7:42:40 AM

> > > Subject: Did you feel older than nada as a kid?

> > >

> > >  

> > > A couple of recent topics have reminded me of the surreal feeling I had

fairly often growing up of actually asking myself if I wasn't more " mature " than

my own mother--and asking myself how in the world that could be.It was so weird

and scary to feel that way.I was wondering if anyone else remembers feeling

something like this.

> > >

> > > When I was six we were going one day to visit her high school best friend:

nada,me and my brother in the car.We were stopped at a red light out in the

countryside- -it was a gorgeous late Spring day and Simon's song

" Kodachrome " was playing on the radio.I was sitting in the back with my brother

enjoying the ride and the day because I always loved going to see this friend of

nada's who was very nice.We didn't get to see her enough,I thought.

> > >

> > > Anyway,we were stopped at a red light and a group of young men seemed (to

me) to appear from out of nowhere.They pounded on the car hood and sort of

gathered around the stopped car.I was shocked and very frightened,but nada was

all giggles and she asked them if she could give them " a ride " .

> > >

> > > They piled into the car,including in the back seat where my brother and I

kind of got pushed to the side.I put my arms around my brother and held him

close to me because I was scared and to somehow shield him.Nada was giggling

away,asking them questions about where they were going,what were their names,tra

la la,and seemed to be having a ball.

> > >

> > > We ended up driving out of our way and I was very relieved when they got

out of the car--they had seemed raucous to me and rude.I was also shaking with

upset and fear.And angry--I was fully aware of feeling angry with nada.

> > >

> > > I couldn't help it,she seemed so pleased and non-plussed by the whole

thing,I had to say something.I didn't want her to ever do something like that

again.

> > >

> > > I was SIX YEARS OLD and I had to say to a thirty one year old woman, " How

could you be so irresponsible? "

> > >

> > > Nada was like,what? What do you mean,how can you be so silly? She told me

lightly, " Oh, D (the best friend we were on the way to see) and I used to do that

all the time in college,pick up hitch hikers and we'd tease them for a while

then drop them off somewhere,it was a riot... "

> > >

> > > I had to remind her: " Mom,you're not in college anymore and you have two

small children in the car with you. "

> > >

> > > She stopped the car and told me to get out and when I refused,yelled at

me, " I have ONE CHILD in this car with me! You're not a child,I don't know what

you are! You're some kind of demon in a little girl's body,you're NOT a child.I

should just shove you out of the car and leave you here,you know so much,you'll

do just fine all on your own! "

> > >

> > > She took off speeding.My brother was now crying and she yelled at me, " You

see what you did! Are you proud of yourself now,you made B cry again? You've

succeeded in ruining this day now for both of us. "

> > >

> > > I was left bewildered by the whole thing.How could it be that I knew she'd

done something wrong (and dangerous) and she didn't? Was it really because there

was something horribly abnormal about ME?

> > >

> > > And what if she did something like that again and I couldn't stop her?

What if something really bad happened to us?

> > >

> > > I decided to " tattle " on her to my grandfather, her father,and I did.She

was very hateful to me after that but she never picked up another hitchhiker.I

also wonder if she was planning on having a big laugh with her friend over

picking up those guys and if things like that are the reason why,whenever we did

see this woman,it was nada going to see her--she very very rarely ever came to

see us.This friend of hers had gotten married and had kids and grown up and it

seemed like nada never did grow up in the same way.Why does that make me feel so

sad?

> > >

> > > Does anyone else have an experience like this?

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

[Guest guest]

....Wow, ...

That you were so profoundly different, so intellectually advanced in comparison

to your parents does add a whole new layer of complexity to the damage you

suffered at their hands. Good Lord.

I can totally see how that would create even more of a disconnect of

attachment/bonding between your nada and you, and it could also explain why you

can remember very early events in your life very clearly, very possibly. I've

read that even mentally healthy parents of average intelligence are thrown for a

loop when they realize their child is off-the-charts intellectually gifted;

these parents have to scramble to learn how to nurture a super-intelligent child

properly and need a lot of help to do so.

But a mentally ill, pd mother *would* likely " demonize " a child so different

from herself, and try to kill " it. " The tragedy of that situation is so deeply

disturbing and frustrating.

....Wow...

My situation was nowhere near as extreme as yours, but I do share that

experience of my nada being contemptuous of and denigrating the things about me

that weren't exactly like the parts of herself that she liked. She expected me

to be a clone of herself, but perfect, so my imperfections and the things about

me that were more like dad were vilified and shamed.

I really think you should write a biography, your experiences are so

extreme, your situation so very unusual, and yet other KOs like me can gain a

great deal of insight and healing from what you went through and your ongoing

journey to recovery.

-Annie

> >

> > ,

> >

> > I didn't become aware of feeling more " mature " than my nada until more into

my teens. I was not forced into that role so clearly as you had to be early on

to survive.

> >

> > What strikes me about your story, other than it being yet another awful and

unbelievable experience your nada put you through is 1) that you had such a

clear sense of its " wrongness " at such a young age - wow, 2)that your nada had

no grasp of the the danger she put herself in, and moreso her children, and 3)

that you remember these events with such clarity. There must be some fine line

between events that are so horrible - they're suppressed, and others that are

also bad but branded in memory. My heart cries for this little girl, so

terrified, yet holding it together to protect her little brother - and trying to

get her mother to see some sense. And then you were demonized for it. I have

to wonder if your brother was too young to understand and bought into her

portrayal of you - and that's why he still only sees her through filters. I have

no doubt that as reasoned and mature as you were (had to be) at such a young

age, you must have actually frightened your nada in some way. I think she

recognized on some level that you were far more mature and intelligent than she

would ever be.

> >

> > As for your sadness, I'm guessing your reasons may be twofold. If you feel

any sadness for your nada, then you have an amazing capacity for compassion for

a sick, twisted person who will never know growth, or love, or the truth of just

how remarkable her daughter is. And how can there not be sadness for your own

lost childhood - you were never really allowed to just be a little girl - let

alone one who felt safe and loved.

> >

> > However, I would like to hope that the sadness can be, may be a sign that

you're moving a little toward healing. I think that if you can ever reach a

place beyond the pain, and numbness and disconnectedness and anger (and all the

feelings that an abusive childhood engenders), and just feel the sadness that

remains for what was - what is, then maybe that's the one thing that you can

learn to live with. I hope that makes sense....

> >

> > Suzy

> >

>

[Guest guest]

,

Thank you so much for sharing that. I know it must have been difficult for you,

but I'm so glad you did. It explains soooo much - and I repeat more adamantly:

" your nada will never know the truth of just how remarkable her daughter is. "

In reading your posts, I have always felt that your nada's venom was indeed

directed specifically at you (and not your sib) in a way that went way beyond

the " splitting " of kids as good or bad. I sought to understand how that could

be - and it was clear that it wasn't " just your perception. " I always wondered

if it was her self-hatred projected onto you as the person she perceived most as

a reflection of herself. Now I see that there was a very different dynamic.

It's been posted about many times here that nadas are ill-equipped to parent a

child, any child. They are ill-equipped to relate to people, period. But

parenting a gifted child would have been far far beyond the capacity of a

disordered mind to deal with. I see a terrible irony in play in your case. I

think you are right in that your giftedness is at the core of what exacerbated

your nada's twistedness while at the same time it is likely the very thing that

helped you to survive. You were able to intellectualize your way through much,

and now, in adulthood you are left trying to sort through the emotional fallout

you never could as a child. Wow.

As a gifted child, your life was destined to be both easier and more challenging

from the start. Without a parent to help you celebrate and nurture your unique

gifts while at the same time helping you to normalize your life, you had no

chance at either. I'm just so sorry you had none of what you needed - either as

a child and especially as a gifted one.

As a parent, I have some experience with this. My child is " different " in that

he has ADHD, but he also tested as " gifted " in school. There are some striking

similarities between the two, and it can be difficult to distinguish which is at

play at times - most especially when it comes to " executive function " skills. I

was part of a " parent of gifted kids " advocacy group that had to fight within

our school district for resources for enrichment for our kids - who are often

overlooked and underchallenged within the school system. I've also had to

advocate a LOT for my child individually, to ensure that he gets the support he

needs without EVER being ostracised for being different. I've had to constantly

reinforce for him that being different does NOT EQUATE to being bad.

So, knowing how much energy and persistence it has taken as a parent of a child

who is " different " to help him be comfortable with that difference, celebrate

his unique gifts and grow to his potential, I can only begin to imagine what

being demonized for being different has done to you - and by the one person you

most needed to do the opposite. And your giftedness is clearly in a whole

different spectrum - well beyond anything in my realm, so I'm thinking you

needed and deserved exceptional parenting. You were handed an angry twisted

demon of a child in adult's clothing instead. Again. Wow. I fear your friend

is right - this is at the heart of what has hurt you so much. I can understand

if it is the hardest part to come to terms with. I may have a better

understanding - to the extent that anyone on the outside of your experience can,

but remain absolutely horrified at what you went through - and feel so bad for

what it continues to cost you.

Now, I'd really like to look at the good stuff. Wow, again! You're no freak,

girl. You're a miracle. An amazing, gifted miracle. What I " see " is an

intelligent, articulate, talented, thoughtful woman trying to find her true self

in the midst of the fragments your nada left you with. Thank God you were born

different - it's what helped you to survive - I'm convinced of it. You will

become the whole person you were meant to be.

And, if I may scold you a bit, don't you EVER, EVER, EVER (did I say EVER) refer

to yourself as a freak again. I hope you WILL totally disown your nada's

perception of you - I don't think you are different in any way that is weird.

You are different, yes, but in a way that you should feel proud of - never

ashamed. And I'm proud of you for sharing it with us - I celebrate that with

you.

You have the gift of memory, you have the gift of words, you have the gift of

clarity. I say again that I hope you will use them to write of your experiences

when you feel ready. You have a powerful story to tell - and it is a way in

which you can both heal and share your gift with the world out here - and help

many. When you're ready.

Suzy

p.s. Talking at 4 months - hmm. Thank goodness my son didn't share in that.

He started talking more within the " normal " time range - but he hasn't stopped

talking since.

[Guest guest]

,

I echo Annie's sentiments. As I read your post, I was thinking, " Most parents

WANT their kids to excel, they don't punish them for it. " I also was thinking

about what Annie said, that even for mentally healthy parents, it can be

challenging to parent an intellectually advanced child. So it makes sense that

your nada would have been terrified of your natural giftings. I can only imagine

the thoughts going through her head, and I doubt that she fully understood the

dynamic that was going on. You did not deserve the kind of treatment she gave

you, and it was so very wrong for you to be parentified and demonized the way

you were.

The story of being lost in Woolworth's seems almost like it would be a scene in

a comedy, if it were not so tragic. What an amazing gift you have been given. I

am deeply grieved that you were thought to be evil and in need of destruction.

Nothing could be further from the truth. Your abilites and very being should

have been celebrated, not torn down. I see that you are learning to nurture

yourself or seek it out from others; I'm really proud of you. I know I've said

it before, but the amount of strength and grace and fortitude you show is

utterly amazing.

Thank you for trusting us with this part of your story. It is one that deserves

to be heard. Blessings to you as continue your journey.

Take care friend,

ps - I want a pre-buy of your book too!

>

> ...Wow, ...

>

> That you were so profoundly different, so intellectually advanced in

comparison to your parents does add a whole new layer of complexity to the

damage you suffered at their hands. Good Lord.

>

> I can totally see how that would create even more of a disconnect of

attachment/bonding between your nada and you, and it could also explain why you

can remember very early events in your life very clearly, very possibly. I've

read that even mentally healthy parents of average intelligence are thrown for a

loop when they realize their child is off-the-charts intellectually gifted;

these parents have to scramble to learn how to nurture a super-intelligent child

properly and need a lot of help to do so.

>

> But a mentally ill, pd mother *would* likely " demonize " a child so different

from herself, and try to kill " it. " The tragedy of that situation is so deeply

disturbing and frustrating.

> ...Wow...

> I really think you should write a biography, your experiences are so

> extreme, your situation so very unusual, and yet other KOs like me can gain a

great deal of insight and healing from what you went through and your ongoing

journey to recovery.

>

> -Annie

[Guest guest]

Suzy,

So beautifully and wonderfully said ...

>

> ,

> Now, I'd really like to look at the good stuff. Wow, again! You're no freak,

girl. You're a miracle. An amazing, gifted miracle. What I " see " is an

intelligent, articulate, talented, thoughtful woman trying to find her true self

in the midst of the fragments your nada left you with. Thank God you were born

different - it's what helped you to survive - I'm convinced of it. You will

become the whole person you were meant to be.

>

> And, if I may scold you a bit, don't you EVER, EVER, EVER (did I say EVER)

refer to yourself as a freak again. I hope you WILL totally disown your nada's

perception of you - I don't think you are different in any way that is weird.

You are different, yes, but in a way that you should feel proud of - never

ashamed. And I'm proud of you for sharing it with us - I celebrate that with

you.

>

> You have the gift of memory, you have the gift of words, you have the gift of

clarity. I say again that I hope you will use them to write of your experiences

when you feel ready. You have a powerful story to tell - and it is a way in

which you can both heal and share your gift with the world out here - and help

many. When you're ready.

>

> Suzy

[Guest guest]

, My God it seems like you were given a spirit and an

intellect so that you would do much more than survive.

My heart goes out to you,for your courage, your persperverance, and

for not giving up.

Best,

[Guest guest]

Annie,thanks for posting this info and the link--very interesting,very

chilling.Somehow it doesn't surprise me that people would be unable to hear a

mother explicitly state a desire to kill her own children.I agree that

collective denial is a huge part of why these horrors happen-as well as

widespread ignorance of the prevalence of the personality disordered in all

segments of society--and of how they operate/the harm they are capable of.

I was feeling a bit foggy when I wrote the last post so I used two extreme

examples of mothers where it should have been obvious their kids needed to

removed from their " care " --and who were even under psychiatric supervision at

some point.I have no doubt that the mothers who are serving prison time for

killing their kids have a PD.

Diane Downs comes to mind.

I had read an article about the bizarre case recently in Florida of a baby

who had been reported missing and was found alive five days later in a box under

her babysitter's bed.That is what made me wonder if there is--in additional to

collective denial re abusive/murderous mothers--some element of expediency

involved in some of these cases--and why.Because this story,and I'm including a

link to an article about it below,just had me shaking my head and saying

" WHAT???? "

The parents of the missing/found baby,now seven months old,had been

investigated by CPS more than once from the time the baby was two weeks

old.According to the article,a report filed by CPS on the case stated that

" although the parents smoked marijuana and kept a messy home,the baby appeared

to be well cared for " --and so she wasn't removed.Huh? Isn't it illegal to smoke

pot? Would two stoned out of their minds parents really take good care of a

small baby? Apparently neither of them were charged with possession of an

illegal drug,at the least.

But it gets weirder.The " babysitter " she was left with,it turns out,is no

ordinary babysitter.Her three year old stepson had gone missing (she claimed

while she was taking a nap) and was never found.But her six year old (daughter

or also step daughter,I forget) was there and accounted for--and had been so

badly beaten,the " babysitter " was arrested for that but only spent 80 days in

jail on a suspended charge.Then was set free to take up residence wherever she

wished and to babysit or procreate at her leisure.

Both the babysitter and the baby's mother were arrested after the baby

was found.Here's the weird story (which made me wonder HOW this happened):

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,571888,00.html

--

> > > >

> > > > Yes, en experience similar to yours and other experiences. I was in H.S.

around 16. This was the first time in years that I had been with nada. I had

been with my Fada and S.M. The live style was a shock, she would breeze in and

out at all hours, with different men while I was at home trying to do school

work. She would often interupt so that I could " entertain her " . There was one

point where she tried to get me to try pot. I was shocked, and refused (big

mistake, sent her into a rage). I was one of the fortunate ones that was never

peer presured into doing drugs from my peers, just presured my nada. She had

several different addictions, a few months after that she decided that she

needed my help to withdrawl off of Adivan, I stayed up with her night after

night while she cried, raged, vomited and not to mention the non stop wanting to

give up. She became pregnant after that, and would sit on the top of the stairs

and slide down on her bottom until she

> > > > had a miscarriage. I would stay up worry if she would make it home

safe, or if our home was safe. She would go through drive throughs backwards for

laughs. I came from my dads house, which, we had bed times, school work and

grades mattered, we had food on a regular basis, no one was up past 10pm on a

weeknight, I always had a bed to sleep in to staying up all night, she never

looked at my report card or cared about school work or if I even went, drugs,

different men, moving from place to place, sometimes having to share a bed with

her if it wasn't occupied by someone else and not that I knew it then..but BPD.

I felt like I was the adult at all times. I had to be, to survive her. Sadly,

she is still the same, just older, slower and a lot less men.

> > > >

> > > >

> > > >

> > > >

> > > >

> > > >

> > > > ________________________________

> > > > From: christine.depizan <christine.depizan@>

> > > > To: WTOAdultChildren1

> > > > Sent: Thu, November 5, 2009 7:42:40 AM

> > > > Subject: Did you feel older than nada as a kid?

> > > >

> > > >  

> > > > A couple of recent topics have reminded me of the surreal feeling I had

fairly often growing up of actually asking myself if I wasn't more " mature " than

my own mother--and asking myself how in the world that could be.It was so weird

and scary to feel that way.I was wondering if anyone else remembers feeling

something like this.

> > > >

> > > > When I was six we were going one day to visit her high school best

friend: nada,me and my brother in the car.We were stopped at a red light out in

the countryside- -it was a gorgeous late Spring day and Simon's song

" Kodachrome " was playing on the radio.I was sitting in the back with my brother

enjoying the ride and the day because I always loved going to see this friend of

nada's who was very nice.We didn't get to see her enough,I thought.

> > > >

> > > > Anyway,we were stopped at a red light and a group of young men seemed

(to me) to appear from out of nowhere.They pounded on the car hood and sort of

gathered around the stopped car.I was shocked and very frightened,but nada was

all giggles and she asked them if she could give them " a ride " .

> > > >

> > > > They piled into the car,including in the back seat where my brother and

I kind of got pushed to the side.I put my arms around my brother and held him

close to me because I was scared and to somehow shield him.Nada was giggling

away,asking them questions about where they were going,what were their names,tra

la la,and seemed to be having a ball.

> > > >

> > > > We ended up driving out of our way and I was very relieved when they got

out of the car--they had seemed raucous to me and rude.I was also shaking with

upset and fear.And angry--I was fully aware of feeling angry with nada.

> > > >

> > > > I couldn't help it,she seemed so pleased and non-plussed by the whole

thing,I had to say something.I didn't want her to ever do something like that

again.

> > > >

> > > > I was SIX YEARS OLD and I had to say to a thirty one year old woman, " How

could you be so irresponsible? "

> > > >

> > > > Nada was like,what? What do you mean,how can you be so silly? She told

me lightly, " Oh, D (the best friend we were on the way to see) and I used to do

that all the time in college,pick up hitch hikers and we'd tease them for a

while then drop them off somewhere,it was a riot... "

> > > >

> > > > I had to remind her: " Mom,you're not in college anymore and you have two

small children in the car with you. "

> > > >

> > > > She stopped the car and told me to get out and when I refused,yelled at

me, " I have ONE CHILD in this car with me! You're not a child,I don't know what

you are! You're some kind of demon in a little girl's body,you're NOT a child.I

should just shove you out of the car and leave you here,you know so much,you'll

do just fine all on your own! "

> > > >

> > > > She took off speeding.My brother was now crying and she yelled at

me, " You see what you did! Are you proud of yourself now,you made B cry again?

You've succeeded in ruining this day now for both of us. "

> > > >

> > > > I was left bewildered by the whole thing.How could it be that I knew

she'd done something wrong (and dangerous) and she didn't? Was it really because

there was something horribly abnormal about ME?

> > > >

> > > > And what if she did something like that again and I couldn't stop her?

What if something really bad happened to us?

> > > >

> > > > I decided to " tattle " on her to my grandfather, her father,and I did.She

was very hateful to me after that but she never picked up another hitchhiker.I

also wonder if she was planning on having a big laugh with her friend over

picking up those guys and if things like that are the reason why,whenever we did

see this woman,it was nada going to see her--she very very rarely ever came to

see us.This friend of hers had gotten married and had kids and grown up and it

seemed like nada never did grow up in the same way.Why does that make me feel so

sad?

> > > >

> > > > Does anyone else have an experience like this?

> > > >

> > > >

> > > >

> > > >

> > > >

> > > >

> > > >

> > > >

> > > >

> > > >

[Guest guest]

I hadn't heard about that incident, thanks for posting the link to that story.

Thank God that in this case the baby was found alive and unharmed, and hopefully

will never be returned to her pothead parents. The parents and the sitter all

sound completely personality disordered; here's hoping baby will be

adopted out to some lovely, caring, mentally healthy parents with empty arms who

would adore her, and the little battered 6-year-old girl (living with the

babysitter) also.

I think you're right and in addition to the collective denial issue, children

are left in substandard and potentially dangerous situations out of expediency.

My guess is that the social services departments around the country are

overwhelmed and overloaded with cases to investigate, follow up and supervise,

so in this particular case since the infant had no bruises, cuts, or broken

bones, didn't appear to be malnourished, and wasn't screaming in terror or pain

when the CPS investigators dropped in, baby was left in the care of her

pot-smoking, welfare-scamming " parents " .

It seems that the CPS workers only have the time and resources to deal with the

very worst cases, leaving other children at risk for neglect, abuse, and death

from unfit parents.

I will be interested to follow the details of this case as it develops. The

conundrum is the babysitter who allowed a 3-year-old boy to go permanently

missing (20 years ago) had her sentence suspended, and then battered a

6-year-old girl in her home badly enough to get CPS's attention. This same

babysitter *wrote the governor of the state* on baby 's behalf, then

managed to acquire baby from the parents who apparently didn't notice

that the baby missing for half a day. Me, I'm betting that the parents sold

to the babysitter. These people are all just bat-shit crazy and unfit

to raise children. I hope the battered 6-year-old is now in a safe place too

and is given a chance to be with loving, caring people.

I agree, its unconscionable that such things are allowed to happen for whatever

reason.

-Annie

> > > > >

> > > > > Yes, en experience similar to yours and other experiences. I was in

H.S. around 16. This was the first time in years that I had been with nada. I

had been with my Fada and S.M. The live style was a shock, she would breeze in

and out at all hours, with different men while I was at home trying to do school

work. She would often interupt so that I could " entertain her " . There was one

point where she tried to get me to try pot. I was shocked, and refused (big

mistake, sent her into a rage). I was one of the fortunate ones that was never

peer presured into doing drugs from my peers, just presured my nada. She had

several different addictions, a few months after that she decided that she

needed my help to withdrawl off of Adivan, I stayed up with her night after

night while she cried, raged, vomited and not to mention the non stop wanting to

give up. She became pregnant after that, and would sit on the top of the stairs

and slide down on her bottom until she

> > > > > had a miscarriage. I would stay up worry if she would make it home

safe, or if our home was safe. She would go through drive throughs backwards for

laughs. I came from my dads house, which, we had bed times, school work and

grades mattered, we had food on a regular basis, no one was up past 10pm on a

weeknight, I always had a bed to sleep in to staying up all night, she never

looked at my report card or cared about school work or if I even went, drugs,

different men, moving from place to place, sometimes having to share a bed with

her if it wasn't occupied by someone else and not that I knew it then..but BPD.

I felt like I was the adult at all times. I had to be, to survive her. Sadly,

she is still the same, just older, slower and a lot less men.

> > > > >

> > > > >

> > > > >

> > > > >

> > > > >

> > > > >

> > > > > ________________________________

> > > > > From: christine.depizan <christine.depizan@>

> > > > > To: WTOAdultChildren1

> > > > > Sent: Thu, November 5, 2009 7:42:40 AM

> > > > > Subject: Did you feel older than nada as a kid?

> > > > >

> > > > >  

> > > > > A couple of recent topics have reminded me of the surreal feeling I

had fairly often growing up of actually asking myself if I wasn't more " mature "

than my own mother--and asking myself how in the world that could be.It was so

weird and scary to feel that way.I was wondering if anyone else remembers

feeling something like this.

> > > > >

> > > > > When I was six we were going one day to visit her high school best

friend: nada,me and my brother in the car.We were stopped at a red light out in

the countryside- -it was a gorgeous late Spring day and Simon's song

" Kodachrome " was playing on the radio.I was sitting in the back with my brother

enjoying the ride and the day because I always loved going to see this friend of

nada's who was very nice.We didn't get to see her enough,I thought.

> > > > >

> > > > > Anyway,we were stopped at a red light and a group of young men seemed

(to me) to appear from out of nowhere.They pounded on the car hood and sort of

gathered around the stopped car.I was shocked and very frightened,but nada was

all giggles and she asked them if she could give them " a ride " .

> > > > >

> > > > > They piled into the car,including in the back seat where my brother

and I kind of got pushed to the side.I put my arms around my brother and held

him close to me because I was scared and to somehow shield him.Nada was giggling

away,asking them questions about where they were going,what were their names,tra

la la,and seemed to be having a ball.

> > > > >

> > > > > We ended up driving out of our way and I was very relieved when they

got out of the car--they had seemed raucous to me and rude.I was also shaking

with upset and fear.And angry--I was fully aware of feeling angry with nada.

> > > > >

> > > > > I couldn't help it,she seemed so pleased and non-plussed by the whole

thing,I had to say something.I didn't want her to ever do something like that

again.

> > > > >

> > > > > I was SIX YEARS OLD and I had to say to a thirty one year old

woman, " How could you be so irresponsible? "

> > > > >

> > > > > Nada was like,what? What do you mean,how can you be so silly? She told

me lightly, " Oh, D (the best friend we were on the way to see) and I used to do

that all the time in college,pick up hitch hikers and we'd tease them for a

while then drop them off somewhere,it was a riot... "

> > > > >

> > > > > I had to remind her: " Mom,you're not in college anymore and you have

two small children in the car with you. "

> > > > >

> > > > > She stopped the car and told me to get out and when I refused,yelled

at me, " I have ONE CHILD in this car with me! You're not a child,I don't know

what you are! You're some kind of demon in a little girl's body,you're NOT a

child.I should just shove you out of the car and leave you here,you know so

much,you'll do just fine all on your own! "

> > > > >

> > > > > She took off speeding.My brother was now crying and she yelled at

me, " You see what you did! Are you proud of yourself now,you made B cry again?

You've succeeded in ruining this day now for both of us. "

> > > > >

> > > > > I was left bewildered by the whole thing.How could it be that I knew

she'd done something wrong (and dangerous) and she didn't? Was it really because

there was something horribly abnormal about ME?

> > > > >

> > > > > And what if she did something like that again and I couldn't stop her?

What if something really bad happened to us?

> > > > >

> > > > > I decided to " tattle " on her to my grandfather, her father,and I

did.She was very hateful to me after that but she never picked up another

hitchhiker.I also wonder if she was planning on having a big laugh with her

friend over picking up those guys and if things like that are the reason

why,whenever we did see this woman,it was nada going to see her--she very very

rarely ever came to see us.This friend of hers had gotten married and had kids

and grown up and it seemed like nada never did grow up in the same way.Why does

that make me feel so sad?

> > > > >

> > > > > Does anyone else have an experience like this?

> > > > >

> > > > >

> > > > >

> > > > >

> > > > >

> > > > >

> > > > >

> > > > >

> > > > >

> > > > >

[Guest guest]

Leanne,do you get your e-mails from the group via the " daily digest " ? That would

cut down on the amount of e-mails you receive,I think.I use a yahoo account for

stuff like this group.I also have the main page for this group bookmarked

because it's alot easier to follow the posts on the main page then in my e-mail

account.You can get to the main page by going to your personal list of " yahoo

groups " and clicking on this one.I think if you go to " edit membership " at the

top of the main page that you can select to receive the " daily digest " instead

of individual e-mails.

I know how it is to be very sensitive.I feel most things very intensely

and very deeply--it's still a shock to me when I discover that others don't and

I've tried to imagine how it would be to not feel so " tuned in " .Pettiness and

injustice,especially,hurt me--even when they aren't directed at me.But I also

feel deeply fascinated by lots of things that other people just kind of shrug

at.

It's good that you are able right now to gain a better understanding of

your father.It sounds like as you are doing this,you are also getting a better

awareness of yourself.There's so much to understand and work out and feelings to

get in touch with or come to terms with--it's a journey and you can't know where

it's leading you but the important part,like you said,is going on.

Take care,

> >

> > ,

> >

> > I didn't become aware of feeling more " mature " than my nada until more into

my teens. I was not forced into that role so clearly as you had to be early on

to survive.

> >

> > What strikes me about your story, other than it being yet another awful and

unbelievable experience your nada put you through is 1) that you had such a

clear sense of its " wrongness " at such a young age - wow, 2)that your nada had

no grasp of the the danger she put herself in, and moreso her children, and 3)

that you remember these events with such clarity. There must be some fine line

between events that are so horrible - they're suppressed, and others that are

also bad but branded in memory. My heart cries for this little girl, so

terrified, yet holding it together to protect her little brother - and trying to

get her mother to see some sense. And then you were demonized for it. I have to

wonder if your brother was too young to understand and bought into her portrayal

of you - and that's why he still only sees her through filters. I have no doubt

that as reasoned and mature as you were (had to be) at such a young age, you

must have actually

> frightened your nada in some way. I think she recognized on some level that

you were far more mature and intelligent than she would ever be.

> >

> > As for your sadness, I'm guessing your reasons may be twofold. If you feel

any sadness for your nada, then you have an amazing capacity for compassion for

a sick, twisted person who will never know growth, or love, or the truth of just

how remarkable her daughter is. And how can there not be sadness for your own

lost childhood - you were never really allowed to just be a little girl - let

alone one who felt safe and loved.

> >

> > However, I would like to hope that the sadness can be, may be a sign that

you're moving a little toward healing. I think that if you can ever reach a

place beyond the pain, and numbness and disconnectedness and anger (and all the

feelings that an abusive childhood engenders), and just feel the sadness that

remains for what was - what is, then maybe that's the one thing that you can

learn to live with. I hope that makes sense....

> >

> > Suzy

> >

>

>

>

>

>

>

>

>

>

>

>

>

[Guest guest]

Thank you so much to all of you for your understanding and compassionate

responses.I censor alot of the more intense (and I suppose hard to read) abuse

out of much of what I post about my childhood--and also censoring out what is

actually such a huge part of why my nada hated me so much in the first place

just started feel like too much...censoring...

The first word I ever said was " kitty " --abnormally at four months--and

nada was not happy that it wasn't " mama " .The second word I said was " Moppo " ,an

attempt at saying our cat's name and then " doggie " then " Sipper " ,another attempt

at saying our dog's name.This might be because she let our cat come into my crib

with me because that " shut me up " --mothers know that a cat could accidentally

smother an infant if allowed to sleep in the crib with it.She encouraged the cat

to sleep with me.I think she was hoping to find me dead,another accident she

tried to manufacture.The cat wasn't screaming at me or shaking me,she showed me

affection and warmth.I still find cats incredibly soothing and calming.

I didn't say " mama " until six months and when I did,I said " Mom " and she

thought that was evil,too.I also just said " Dad " not " dada " .

I walked unsupported at nine months--she has claimed that I crawled

early and walked early because I " couldn't wait to get away " from her.That might

be true,in part,given the monstrously abusive way she behaved towards me.I have

two pictures of me,one at nine months and one at ten months,with my age written

on the back.In the nine month one,I'm standing next to the sofa with fada lying

down on it-standing there not holding on for support--and I look much happier

than I did in earlier photos,when I looked terrified/terrorized.In the ten month

old one I'm standing turned halfway from the full length mirror in the hall to

giggle at the camera.I have one of those knitted toilet roll holders on my

head--nada says I took the toilet paper rolls out of it one day and put it on my

head and went to the mirror to look at myself.And that at that age I was into

playing dress up and especially liked hats and holding her purse/stepping into

adult shoes...and that I'd take my shoes off and put them on my stuffed animals'

feet...this is around the time that I began to have ear infections again from

teething (I guess?) and she lied to the pediatrician that she was giving me

antibiotics when she wasn't and that they weren't working: result that my ear

infections developed into abcesses and she'd take me to the pediatrician to him

him lance them with a scalpel.She said that she cried and the doctor felt sorry

for HER--which I think is why she let that happen,for the attention SHE got.For

years I had an irrational,paralyzing fear of knives.But it seems to be part of

her making me " pay " for being how I was.

Juat being me was life threatening.

I really appreciate having a safe,supportive place here as I try to start

to deal with...all of this...

Thank you for listening--and for hearing me.

> >

> > ,

> >

> > I didn't become aware of feeling more " mature " than my nada until more into

my teens. I was not forced into that role so clearly as you had to be early on

to survive.

> >

> > What strikes me about your story, other than it being yet another awful and

unbelievable experience your nada put you through is 1) that you had such a

clear sense of its " wrongness " at such a young age - wow, 2)that your nada had

no grasp of the the danger she put herself in, and moreso her children, and 3)

that you remember these events with such clarity. There must be some fine line

between events that are so horrible - they're suppressed, and others that are

also bad but branded in memory. My heart cries for this little girl, so

terrified, yet holding it together to protect her little brother - and trying to

get her mother to see some sense. And then you were demonized for it. I have

to wonder if your brother was too young to understand and bought into her

portrayal of you - and that's why he still only sees her through filters. I have

no doubt that as reasoned and mature as you were (had to be) at such a young

age, you must have actually frightened your nada in some way. I think she

recognized on some level that you were far more mature and intelligent than she

would ever be.

> >

> > As for your sadness, I'm guessing your reasons may be twofold. If you feel

any sadness for your nada, then you have an amazing capacity for compassion for

a sick, twisted person who will never know growth, or love, or the truth of just

how remarkable her daughter is. And how can there not be sadness for your own

lost childhood - you were never really allowed to just be a little girl - let

alone one who felt safe and loved.

> >

> > However, I would like to hope that the sadness can be, may be a sign that

you're moving a little toward healing. I think that if you can ever reach a

place beyond the pain, and numbness and disconnectedness and anger (and all the

feelings that an abusive childhood engenders), and just feel the sadness that

remains for what was - what is, then maybe that's the one thing that you can

learn to live with. I hope that makes sense....

> >

> > Suzy

> >

>

[Guest guest]

,

I'm glad you shared that. I can see how it would make you feel different and I

can also see how a nada could make what is merely a difference into

freakishness.

I think it's a special nada talent--like if you're good at soccer or ballet or

if you just really are crazy about collecting Barbie dolls, then that's the

thing they will demonize. It doesn't even have to be that big of a deal for

them to do that, because the real problem is not that you have some special gift

that most people don't have. The real problem is you, that you are a separate

and unique person (just like everyone else on the planet) and periodically, when

it suits them, they do everything they possibly can to try to kill that " you "

off.

I'm not unusually intelligent, but intelligent enough and my nada made that into

a much, much bigger deal than it is. Occasionally, she thought it was the best

thing since sliced bread that she had a smart daughter, but most of the time

being called " smart " in my house was a little like being called some kind of

profanity.

I started writing stories when I was about 11 and my nada used to start coming

up with excuses to bug me and start arguments whenever I was writing. It made

writing traumatic.

Basically, whatever was most obviously particular to me, she found a way to

attack, either overtly or in subtle ways.

The point is partly to make you insecure about who you are, to isolate you from

others, and to keep you from connecting to others by preventing you from showing

the real you to outsiders. It makes you more vulnerable and easier to control

that way. This is on top of trying to kill off every part of you that is not

them, that is not nada-santioned, and that has an autonomous existence rather

than being there simply to meet her needs.

My own sense of being freakishly different--which is fairly non-specific--has

diminished over time, partly because I have thought through the specifics of

what exactly makes me different and what is unusual about me. It's as if

lacking some of the differentiation of self that can result from having a parent

with no boundaries actually made me feel more apart. But I also began to feel

better about it just as I began to deal more with the pain of the past--it's

like some of the veil between myself and others became less apparent as there

became fewer memories and emotions that needed to be contained. Being different

has also become less painful as I've addressed the specific kinds of differences

that have been painful to me in the past.

The thing is that normal parents celebrate the uniqueness of their

children--they are happy for their gifts and understanding of their faults. We

missed out on that.

, you are different from many people in so many ways. I think it's

fine. It's a part of what makes you who you are. Everyone is different, and

you are even more different than average. But it's fine. You aren't so

different that there aren't at least some people who can relate to your

experience--even if they didn't share in anything similar, it's an experience

other people can imagine and have some understanding of what it might have been

like. I didn't learn to read at two, but from what you explain, I can imagine

being that kid who really wants to connect with her nada and understands what

Idi Amin is up to--at least well enough to talk about it--and I can imagine

wanting to connect with my nada over that. And, at the same time, I can imagine

not getting that nada really doesn't understand anything about the man, nada not

only has no interest in that kind of thing, but she is mentally ill and can't

really connect to anyone in a genuine

way about anything.

Best,

Ashana

Keep up with people you care about with Yahoo! India Mail. Learn how.

http://in.overview.mail.yahoo.com/connectmore

[Guest guest]

It's taken me a week (but) thank you Annie,,Suzy,Leanne,and Ashana for

your replies.This has been a major realization and it has been extremely

difficult to deal with.It's an awareness that I repressed growing up and for all

this time since--and as it's come to the surface I have repeatedly felt like it

was my fault.If I had never existed at all,as me,none of this would have

happened to me.

I don't want to put a positive spin on it right now.I want to face it as it

is.I honestly don't know what to say,much,because I feel like the truth of what

I'm really feeling would be too burdensome to others.I don't want to say

anything that might imply a negation of the good intentions towards me that all

of you expressed.I know that all of you meant well.

I don't think that writing a memoir or an autobiography is going to be

helpful in my case.I spend my life,all the f*cking time,censoring myself--and if

I wrote my " story " ,it would be to really tell it.Not to censor any of it.There

are ethical considerations to take into account here,such as the effect that

anything I write might have on my childhood friend E's family.If I included the

part about K--a major incident of almost being murdered--I couldn't very well do

that without mentioning E.There are also,I suppose,legal issues which I assume a

publisher--if I could even write it well enough to interest one--might not want

to touch.I would be making some very serious allegations,which although

true,haven't been proved in a formal court of law.I was gang raped repeatedly

from the ages of 5-8 by several teenaged boys, " friends " of my teenaged

babysitter who was also victimized by them.I read on the website of Marilyn Van

Derbur,who wrote the incest memoir " Miss America by Day " that the most " common "

sex abuse is actually perpetrated by teenaged boys in some kind of babysitting

scenario--and here I was thinking that my experience was freakish and bizarre

when in fact it's the most commonly reported kind...but these would still be

serious allegations and I have no idea how the individuals involved would react

if they knew of them.I was told at the time that they'd set my house on fire if

I told--and indeed one of them later did time in prison for arson: he set his

girlfriend's house on fire when she dumped him.There is also the matter of my

sixth grade teacher who molested me--I looked him up and he is retired and has a

wife and two daughters near my age.I don't need to hear them defending him.My

entire FOO would vilify me,too,for writing such a book.I would have lots of

people attacking me over it.I don't see how healing that would be.I also don't

see how writing out such a relentlessly dark and depressing tale would help

anyone.I think most people would get halfway through it and throw it against the

wall.

I just want to exist.To try to exist.To try to survive.For that to be

enough--that I am worthy of at least that.Without having to have my existence

used for the benefit of others.I feel like all I've ever been worth is what

other people can use of me and how they can use me.My pain exists in and of

itself.

I would be glad if my therapist wrote about me as a case study or case

history if that would help other clinicians to treat the people who come to them

for help.But writing my history for publication myself has way way way too much

threat of potential harm in it,for me and for some of the good people involved.

I just want to be and to feel safe.That is my priority right now.

That is how I honestly feel.I appreciate everyone's good intentions and

please don't think that I don't.This is just more serious and there are no easy

solutions.I have to deal with it for what it is.

I have avoided responding to your replies because I just don't know how to

say what I feel without coming off as whining or pointlessly despairing or

seeming to not appreciate the goodwill all of you expressed to me.

It's going to take me some time before I learn how to deal with my

reality without being very upset by it and all of its implications.

I wish I was beyond this point already but I'm just not.And if I sound

angry,please know that it's not with any of you,but with circumstance.

[Guest guest]

, just wanted to send a caring thought your way. You are doing such

difficult work facing things that no person should ever have to though. I hope

you give yourself credit constantly for your strength and courage. I missed

the discussion about a book but I guess you could always write under a pen name

or claim its fiction and change the names if it would be cathartic to publicly

tell the story. I hope you don't feel you have to censor yourself here. I do

relate to the problem of having bad reactions to advice - I often have trouble

opening up on certain topics because of that myself. Still intentions are good

on all sides here and that's what matters.

be well,

julie

>

> It's taken me a week (but) thank you Annie,,Suzy,Leanne,and Ashana for

your replies.This has been a major realization and it has been extremely

difficult to deal with.It's an awareness that I repressed growing up and for all

this time since--and as it's come to the surface I have repeatedly felt like it

was my fault.If I had never existed at all,as me,none of this would have

happened to me.

>

> I don't want to put a positive spin on it right now.I want to face it as

it is.I honestly don't know what to say,much,because I feel like the truth of

what I'm really feeling would be too burdensome to others.I don't want to say

anything that might imply a negation of the good intentions towards me that all

of you expressed.I know that all of you meant well.

>

> I don't think that writing a memoir or an autobiography is going to be

helpful in my case.I spend my life,all the f*cking time,censoring myself--and if

I wrote my " story " ,it would be to really tell it.Not to censor any of it.There

are ethical considerations to take into account here,such as the effect that

anything I write might have on my childhood friend E's family.If I included the

part about K--a major incident of almost being murdered--I couldn't very well do

that without mentioning E.There are also,I suppose,legal issues which I assume a

publisher--if I could even write it well enough to interest one--might not want

to touch.I would be making some very serious allegations,which although

true,haven't been proved in a formal court of law.I was gang raped repeatedly

from the ages of 5-8 by several teenaged boys, " friends " of my teenaged

babysitter who was also victimized by them.I read on the website of Marilyn Van

Derbur,who wrote the incest memoir " Miss America by Day " that the most " common "

sex abuse is actually perpetrated by teenaged boys in some kind of babysitting

scenario--and here I was thinking that my experience was freakish and bizarre

when in fact it's the most commonly reported kind...but these would still be

serious allegations and I have no idea how the individuals involved would react

if they knew of them.I was told at the time that they'd set my house on fire if

I told--and indeed one of them later did time in prison for arson: he set his

girlfriend's house on fire when she dumped him.There is also the matter of my

sixth grade teacher who molested me--I looked him up and he is retired and has a

wife and two daughters near my age.I don't need to hear them defending him.My

entire FOO would vilify me,too,for writing such a book.I would have lots of

people attacking me over it.I don't see how healing that would be.I also don't

see how writing out such a relentlessly dark and depressing tale would help

anyone.I think most people would get halfway through it and throw it against the

wall.

>

> I just want to exist.To try to exist.To try to survive.For that to be

enough--that I am worthy of at least that.Without having to have my existence

used for the benefit of others.I feel like all I've ever been worth is what

other people can use of me and how they can use me.My pain exists in and of

itself.

>

> I would be glad if my therapist wrote about me as a case study or case

history if that would help other clinicians to treat the people who come to them

for help.But writing my history for publication myself has way way way too much

threat of potential harm in it,for me and for some of the good people involved.

>

> I just want to be and to feel safe.That is my priority right now.

>

> That is how I honestly feel.I appreciate everyone's good intentions and

please don't think that I don't.This is just more serious and there are no easy

solutions.I have to deal with it for what it is.

>

> I have avoided responding to your replies because I just don't know how

to say what I feel without coming off as whining or pointlessly despairing or

seeming to not appreciate the goodwill all of you expressed to me.

>

> It's going to take me some time before I learn how to deal with my

reality without being very upset by it and all of its implications.

>

> I wish I was beyond this point already but I'm just not.And if I

sound angry,please know that it's not with any of you,but with circumstance.

>

>

>