Household chaos worse than abuse?

[Our abuse recovery guide]

Did anyone else find excessive overall weirdness more upsetting than the verbal abuse?

For me it was the hoarding. Storming around in pajamas talking to herself. Refusing to take care of the house, to the point of wild animals getting into the kitchen. Refusal to clean, and living in several rooms with severe mold damage. Fights about remodeling. There were whole years where no rooms in our house had sheetrock. Bathrooms without water. I had to tear out the carpet in my high school room myself because no one would take responsibility for flood damage, and then I had a concrete floor. My room was also infested with poisonous spiders and no one would deal with it even though I told them, except to come in and tell me she'd had a "psychic dream spiders killed me" and then yelled at me for failing to do anything about "my" spider problem. I am morbidly phobic of spiders now. Pets weren't allowed to be dewormed because "the treatment might kill them and I can't stand the thought of it dying."

I would get yelled at if I did the dishes myself. Yelled at if I tried to cook my own food, and be accused of trying to blow up the house with the gas stove. Yelled at if I tried to clean out the fridge, or shovel the driveway. Then I'd be told the house was too difficult to deal with, and should be burned for insurance money. Yelled at "for not helping more". We were only allowed to eat at fairly expensive restaurants, because "it's wasting your dad's money", so I'd have $30 dinners every night on school nights. Blowing $400 on opera tickets, then telling us there was no money for things like vacuums and new fridges.

Then there was the constant visiting of my dad in weird transient hotels. We were NOT poor, but he'd run off to some skid row dump now and then. It was absurd telling my friends that I had no idea where my dad was, and then getting a random call from some ghetto hourly rate hotel. Most of the places he lived had bullet holes in the wall, even though he was a highly paid government worker. He thought it was funny. Then we'd get a fat envelope of cash every holiday so "your mom doesn't get it".

This alone was so baffling relatives still ask me about it.

I see this as waif behavior paired with passive aggressive behavior, but I grew up in a disgusting, dark, stormy house, with visitation in much worse hotels.

It was just constant disorder. Nothing was ever in the right place for a logical reason. Things never happened at the right time. Super easy problems to fix were made out to be totally devastating disasters, and dragged on for years and years. No one ever lived within their income bracket, in bizarre opposite ways. On multiple occasions people left the state in anger and didn't tell anyone. I remember one exchange in high school where my mom told me, "I drove (2 states away) in the middle of the night to get away from you. I came back because I love you so much." Then she was furious I didn't even notice she was missing. I'd been in bed because it was a school night.

I also had a super dangerous factory job as an underaged teen, which I should not have been legally allowed to do. There were multiple industrial accidents, one of them so horrific I don't like talking about it. Yet I wasn't allowed to stand in the same room as the microwave lest I get 'microwave cancer'.

The emotional abuse was one thing but the overall chaos for our perceived class was so much more upsetting. I get angry at "normal" upper middle class things a lot. Like Pottery Barn catalogs, and Ikea. It's like I'm intensely jealous of the household pictures to the point of rage.

[XL]

Did anyone else find excessive overall weirdness more upsetting than the verbal abuse?

For me it was the hoarding. Storming around in pajamas talking to herself. Refusing to take care of the house, to the point of wild animals getting into the kitchen. Refusal to clean, and living in several rooms with severe mold damage. Fights about remodeling. There were whole years where no rooms in our house had sheetrock. Bathrooms without water. I had to tear out the carpet in my high school room myself because no one would take responsibility for flood damage, and then I had a concrete floor. My room was also infested with poisonous spiders and no one would deal with it even though I told them, except to come in and tell me she'd had a "psychic dream spiders killed me" and then yelled at me for failing to do anything about "my" spider problem. I am morbidly phobic of spiders now. Pets weren't allowed to be dewormed because "the treatment might kill them and I can't stand the thought of it dying."

I would get yelled at if I did the dishes myself. Yelled at if I tried to cook my own food, and be accused of trying to blow up the house with the gas stove. Yelled at if I tried to clean out the fridge, or shovel the driveway. Then I'd be told the house was too difficult to deal with, and should be burned for insurance money. Yelled at "for not helping more". We were only allowed to eat at fairly expensive restaurants, because "it's wasting your dad's money", so I'd have $30 dinners every night on school nights. Blowing $400 on opera tickets, then telling us there was no money for things like vacuums and new fridges.

Then there was the constant visiting of my dad in weird transient hotels. We were NOT poor, but he'd run off to some skid row dump now and then. It was absurd telling my friends that I had no idea where my dad was, and then getting a random call from some ghetto hourly rate hotel. Most of the places he lived had bullet holes in the wall, even though he was a highly paid government worker. He thought it was funny. Then we'd get a fat envelope of cash every holiday so "your mom doesn't get it".

This alone was so baffling relatives still ask me about it.

I see this as waif behavior paired with passive aggressive behavior, but I grew up in a disgusting, dark, stormy house, with visitation in much worse hotels.

It was just constant disorder. Nothing was ever in the right place for a logical reason. Things never happened at the right time. Super easy problems to fix were made out to be totally devastating disasters, and dragged on for years and years. No one ever lived within their income bracket, in bizarre opposite ways. On multiple occasions people left the state in anger and didn't tell anyone. I remember one exchange in high school where my mom told me, "I drove (2 states away) in the middle of the night to get away from you. I came back because I love you so much." Then she was furious I didn't even notice she was missing. I'd been in bed because it was a school night.

I also had a super dangerous factory job as an underaged teen, which I should not have been legally allowed to do. There were multiple industrial accidents, one of them so horrific I don't like talking about it. Yet I wasn't allowed to stand in the same room as the microwave lest I get 'microwave cancer'.

The emotional abuse was one thing but the overall chaos for our perceived class was so much more upsetting. I get angry at "normal" upper middle class things a lot. Like Pottery Barn catalogs, and Ikea. It's like I'm intensely jealous of the household pictures to the point of rage.

[XL]

A lot of people talk about being "parent-ified" at young age. In our house it seemed like no one was allowed to be the parent. If anyone tried to seize control of the chaos, her ego would get furiously insulted and she'd stop them. If you did the dishes, you weren't just doing the dishes; you were *obviously* non-verbally pointing out that she hadn't, with the *obvious* goal of lowering her self esteem, so she'd start crying and raging.  But then she wouldn't take any responsibility herself.

Then she'd overspend on "fancy" experiences, as if that negated the fact that everything else was horrible. It was maddening, constantly swinging between squalor at home and luxury in public.

[Kwamina]

Hi XL,

My mother was like that too. Always complaining about her finances and not paying bills when they needed to be paid. At the same time she had no problem spending all her money on vacations and huge birthday parties. Once she went on a vacation and before she left I asked her if she had paid the bills. She looked me straight in the eyes and said that she had. Two days after she had left I got notified that if the bills weren't paid in ten days, our electricity and gas would be cut off. It was in the middle of the winter when this happened. She had lied in my face and had gone on vacation without ever showing any sign of remorse. She just didn't give a damn. I had to deal with the problem while she was enjoying herself on vacation.

I remember that the bathroom sink faucet was broken one time. For normal people this would be a small thing to handle and they'd get it fixed as soon as possible. But my mother did nothing about it, so we ended up living with a broken faucet for years. We were only able to get cold water from it. I repeatedely asked her to get it fixed but she did nothing. This is just one of the many examples I could give ya.

[GeekyGirl]

The emotional abuse was one thing but the overall chaos for our perceived class was so much more upsetting. I get angry at "normal" upper middle class things a lot. Like Pottery Barn catalogs, and Ikea. It's like I'm intensely jealous of the household pictures to the point of rage.

Keep in mind that Pottery Barn and Ikea catalogs are supposed to look ideal, not normal. Even the people I know with Pottery Barn furniture don't live in those perfect catalog houses. It's all for show.

So let's say that those images are of real families, though. What about "normal" upper class things is upsetting? What can you do to lessen the impact, so if you were to look visit an upper middle class family that you would be able to enjoy it?

You had a very difficult childhood no doubt. It wasn't fair to you to expect you not to try to take care of yourself. Now that you can (and are) taking care of yourself and your mother doesn't have the same power over you, you can look at the past, recognize it for what it was, and move past it to a much happier future.

[chriskell]

I find the hoarding topic interesting. I did not experience the awful stuff you describe XL because my uBPDm did not hoard during my childhood. At that point, she was very intensely maintaining a normal outward appearance so the house had to look normal when people came by. She did always have extreme feelings about any items that had belonged to her mother (her mother died when she was a child). I also remember a time when we flushed the toilet with a bucket of water for over a year rather than call a plumber (and there was plenty of money for a plumber). After my mom's second husband left her, she began to hoard. When my youngest brother was in high school, he lived with mom in an apartment across from the high school. He tells me he used to bring kids over at lunch time to see the apartment with stuff stacked to the very top of the high ceilings on every wall. He has always tried to use humor to deal with mom. The hoarding has gotten worse and worse over time. My mom lives in a home I own, so I contacted adult social services to see if anything could be done. They made no progress with her and told me I could evict her and then throw away all the stuff if she did not remove it herself. I can't bring myself to do that, so the hoarding continues.

I suppose the hoarding is rooted in fear like many BPD behaviors. I asked my mom once why she was keeping all this stuff around and she said she was very afraid she would need something and she would not be able to get it. Interesting that when I clean out my closets (which I do regularly), I feel strong and bold.

[XL]

I feel like I've made some steps. I learned how to clean, and have a good handle on a reasonable cleaning schedule that doesn't usually tip into OCD. *usually* . I do pay my bills promptly when I have income. I have a good grasp on the hoarding thing.

It's just there was a lot of drama that wasn't MY drama, and didn't involve me, but was none the less very upsetting to witness. I guess if it's your fridge and you want to leave it packed with moldy food for years, that's your problem, but there's there's still the message "our family is pretty low functioning" when you see it in person. It also contributed to "no outsiders are allowed to see how we live" attitude. I was only allowed to bring kids over if she thought their families were also screwed up. Like "Mary can come over because her parents are slobs too". She's getting a better handle on the hoarding, but it usually has a demand for help built in, and it gives me panic attacks. I start dreading the holidays in September.  

So let's say that those images are of real families, though. What about "normal" upper class things is upsetting? What can you do to lessen the impact, so if you were to look visit an upper middle class family that you would be able to enjoy it?

I almost bolted completely when I met my partner because his parent's house was so "mall perfect". Like a home channel "after" house. I skipped out on that life entirely, living in artsy studios and urban roommate scenarios. That real homey, comfortable middle class house just... . taunts me a little? It feels like a trap, and also makes me mad that we should have lived in a house like that, but got one with giant holes in the wall. On purpose. It's not that they couldn't afford to do anything about it, it was that they WANTED it that way.

I also felt for a long time like suburban people couldn't possibly understand what I grew up with. Ice on windows, molded walls, spider infestations, rotten food, concrete floors. Drug hotels with bullet holes. I feel like I partially grew up in the third world or something, then you add in "child factory worker" to that? (I actually do identify with third world issues very strongly. Like 'yeah, not having running water or heat and working in a factory sucks, I'm starting to feel ya'." And it wasn't out of desperation, it was like a self selected backdrop to escalate the drama of the craziness. In a way it's spoiled; having all those amenities and willfully choosing to let them fall to ruin.

I get ragey when landlords don't fix structural and leak problems too. That is a huge trigger for me.

[XL]

I had a realization; a lot of mental illness was blamed on The House. The house was causing the upset. The house couldn't afford to fix itself. The house was the sole cause of the marital problems. Everything was totally great until this wreck of a house came along. There is absolutely no way to get out of the burden of this house, and everything related to it is just a completely insurmountable obstacle.

Jeez... . she was doing black or white splitting with the frickin' house. The house was an all evil scapegoat.

I don't trust houses.

[isshebpd]

My uBPDmom got lucky in marrying a hyper-responsible guy who can fix anything. My Dad was just 13 or 14 when he lost his Dad, and ended up being the "man of the house" (his Mom was not mentally ill afaik). So the basics were covered. When uBPDmom slacked on her "stay at home Mom" routine, Dad probably made up for it.

Dad managed the chore assignments, especially when I was doing outside work like mowing the lawn (once I was old enough not to chop off my fingers ). I liked mowing the lawn probably because it involved uBPDmom in no way.

There were various ways our house was chaotic:

1) My uBPDmom would seem to go into a trance sometimes, oblivious to the children near her.

2) Basic etiquette wasn't taught well. My uNPDbro still doesn't do the "please-thank you-you're welcome" routine, and shows up hours late for holiday dinners. I learned etiquette when other kid's parents kept correcting me. We never took our shoes off until we went to bed, and uBPDmom never impressed on us how important it is to remove footwear when entering someone else's house.

3) Having to pack my own lunch and walk a few blocks to school by the time I was eight. And wandering the neighbourhood with no accountability until Dad got home (from a long day of work).

4) Almost no supervision of children's play. My sister and I (and friends) used to crawl out windows onto the roof. We were all under ten and rarely ever got caught. A fall would've broken bones for sure.

5) Neither parent could follow through on punishments. I was often grounded but quickly discovered it was never enforced, not once. OTOH I could get screamed at by uBPDmom for doing things that really weren't wrong. It was from the inside and her emotions.

6) uBPDmom obsessed on the appropriateness of toys, and even took them away sometimes even though most parents would've been OK with them. She always had some rationalization.

[isshebpd]

To answer your question, household chaos is various forms of neglect. I believe it can be as damaging as abuse.

[XL]

To answer your question, household chaos is various forms of neglect. I believe it can be as damaging as abuse.

Exactly. IF we were living within our desperate means, making do as we could, and cheerfully enjoying ourselves, I wouldn't care. I'd even feel sorry for them.

It was the act of allowing squalor to happen as a drama show/passive aggressive way of externalizing inner turmoil that was so infuriating.

"I'm mad at my family, so f*** them; no one gets faucets."

Also: any squalor was used as a way of trying to team us against our dad. If something broke, it was his fault, he was horrible for not fixing it, and she was the poor victim that lacked all resources to help herself, and we kids were suffering from HIS cruelty. A total rage fit would ensue if it was mentioned that she shared that blame, as she co-owned the house, had the option of calling a repairman, and was obligated to for her kids' safety. I grew up believing the problem was that we were poor. It was insane, because she had access to his bank accounts, and he had money.

[GreenMango]

Knowing that house chaos is a trigger for you and shooting for more stability as an adult is good thing.

As far as mental illness, I've been around my fair share construction chaos its super stressful, its not the house.

Squalor conditions can definitely be neglectful.  I gotta say- from what you've described it sounds very chaotic and the mental health issues pretty profound - it sounds like their were more than just BPD going on.  Hoarding or OCD or OCPD are very difficult disorders, especially if its mixed in with BPD. 

Do you have ways that you are working through these experiences that are helping to craft a lifestyle that is more comforting?   

[Kwamina]

"I'm mad at my family, so f*** them; no one gets faucets."

XL I must say that this is a very accurate description of my mother's mentality!

[Cordelia]

Wow, XL, scary how familiar that description sounds!  There is hoarding in my husband's family, and many of those exact same issues.  (Neither of his parents have BPD though.)  If it makes you feel any better, my husband emerged from that environment to be perfectly normal and to live in decent conditions.  He may never be as sensitive to mess as I am - it just doesn't bother him, since what he grew up with was so much worse - but he participates in cleaning and organizes his things and is MUCH better than his parents about throwing out things that are broken, not being crazy about recycling (we recycle, but in his family recycling was an excuse to never actually throw away garbage) and so on.  You see the traces, but he's definitely on the normal side of the spectrum.  You're not doomed to be the same way!

I'm sorry the issue of adequate/inadequate housing still troubles you so much.  You say you're more comfortable in an urban roommate type setting - there's no reason you can't keep doing that.  There's a lot to be said for a small space in a lovely neighborhood where you can walk to get coffee in the mornings and clean the whole thing in 2 hours.  I loved having that kind of setup for many years.  Now with babies on the way I have actually moved to a suburban type home - which I like you always hated and never thought I wanted - but while it's been an adjustment, I'm actually starting to discover what people find so appealing about this type of lifestyle, and it's not so bad.  There are really so many issues wrapped up in the stuff we have and the way we live - be patient and kind to yourself as you work through YOUR values and figure out how YOU want to live.  And realize that these things always evolve as your life moves forward.  I've found out as my lifestyle changed in the past year or so that the things I thought I wanted throughout my childhood are not the only way or even the best way for me right now.  Which isn't to say I might not go back to the way I lived before at another point in my life.  But your fundamental intuition is correct, IMO - your life should determine the place you live and type of things you have, rather than the place and things dominating your life and limiting your choices and possibilities. 

[GeekyGirl]

I get ragey when landlords don't fix structural and leak problems too. That is a huge trigger for me.

I think just about anyone would. That's very annoying.

There are some really good points in this thread, and I agree that hoarding/neglecting a house is a symptom of something else. Typically, well-adjusted people make sure that their basic needs are met (having a roof over their heads, getting proper meals, etc), and if something is really off, like a house that's falling apart or a house so cluttered/dirty that it's unsanitary, that's a big red flag.

XL, it's very interesting that you pointed out that your mother split the house as well--it makes a lot of sense. You're probably right that most people who grew up in middle class families wouldn't understand what you grew up with. It wasn't right or fair to you to grow up that way. What's really inspiring, though, is that you're moving past that. You're forming a better life for yourself despite the deplorable conditions you grew up in. 

[XL]

Knowing that house chaos is a trigger for you and shooting for more stability as an adult is good thing.

As far as mental illness, I've been around my fair share construction chaos its super stressful, its not the house.

Squalor conditions can definitely be neglectful.  I gotta say- from what you've described it sounds very chaotic and the mental health issues pretty profound - it sounds like their were more than just BPD going on.  Hoarding or OCD or OCPD are very difficult disorders, especially if its mixed in with BPD. 

Do you have ways that you are working through these experiences that are helping to craft a lifestyle that is more comforting?   

If I had to diagnose her myself, which one shouldn't do: I'd say it's a mix of BPD, textbook OCD (not OCPD), hoarding, compulsive shopping, and fluctuating depression (most made worse by waif attitudes). My dad was dealing with passive aggressive personality disorder, BPD enmeshment, and military PTSD.

I don't even know. It depended on the day, which ultimately made things more chaotic. Passive aggressive dad + compulsive shopping mom usually meant I saw both separately, and cheerfully got presents and cash from both. Enmeshed dad + BPD mom usually meant a dark, creepy house with people breaking stuff and total neglect of routine. PTSD dad + BPD mom meant he'd disappear completely with no warning, and she'd break down into very abusive BPD / psychosis. I just started sleeping at other kid's houses at that point.

It was like spinning 2 roulette wheels of crazy at the same time.

No, I don't cope correctly. I over-compensate. I get obsessively fixated on minimalist design, obsessively drag my feet and agonize on purchases lest they become compulsive, lean towards OCPD over-cleaning, and have anti-hoarding clean-out fits where I throw everything away, even important things. I went through a period where I was obsessed with home improvement shows, because I couldn't get enough of seeing people fix their damn houses. I also shower too much & probably wash my clothes too often because I can't stand being dirty or cold. I also have a history of assimilating into cozy households.  I do that a lot. I am a quiet little parasite on other families, even still. I mooch off of my in-laws because they have nice carpet and a snack cabinet. 

[GreenMango]

No, I don't cope correctly. I over-compensate. I get obsessively fixated on minimalist design, obsessively drag my feet and agonize on purchases lest they become compulsive, lean towards OCPD over-cleaning, and have anti-hoarding clean-out fits where I throw everything away, even important things. I went through a period where I was obsessed with home improvement shows, because I couldn't get enough of seeing people fix their damn houses. I also shower too much & probably wash my clothes too often because I can't stand being dirty or cold

Hey minimalist design is very clean and simple, can be quite stylish.   You've identified a few things that may need some tweaking - everything in moderation I suppose.

From what you wrote it seems some aren't something to worry about too much - who doesn't like HGTV?  But, the other things are something to shoot for.  It's totally reasonable to want something different than what you experienced growing up - warm and clean is pretty good things to be.  Do you have some support to work on some of these other things concerning you?

I also have a history of assimilating into cozy households.  I do that a lot. I am a quiet little parasite on other families, even still. I mooch off of my in-laws because they have nice carpet and a snack cabinet. 

  Okay this is just funny.  Your in-laws sound like they have good taste in snacks and have a comfy place.  Is it freaking them out you've cozy'd up there?  If not, enjoy it this is the cool part of families.

I hope you don't mind me pointing this out but you've mentioned it as being a negative, I'm not so sure it's a negative to feel comfortable in welcoming and comfortable environments.  I think that's the whole point to feel welcome.