Welcome to me Chapter 1

[Our abuse recovery guide]

 

I have to say I have just found this board today and it has really opened my eyes.  I have always had a hard time explaining to people the severity and it always seemed like 'normal' friends either were shocked or got uncomfotable.  I even think I've shocked a shrink or two over the years.  The reason this is number 1 is its a long story... .  and it's hard to convey.  But I figure gotta start somewhere.

I am 40,a single mom to a really good kid and my mother had BPD.  I was the youngest of 4 and have always known I was not wanted, a mistake.  It is my earliest memory.  My sisters saying they cried because I was a girl.  My parents were seperated and my father wanted a boy, my mother had me only because he said he would come back... .  but I was a girl.  So, they werent staying together and mom would go off her rocker.  

We lived in filth.  There was little food.  There was constant physical, mental and emotional abuse from my mother and my sisters.  It was fight or die.  I remember our crappy apatment being infested with fleas (ironic I know)  We would get evicted and have to move.  I did not have clean clothes, I didnt know people slept in pajamas.  I knew my mother disliked me intensly.  I was never touched or hugged.  I was berated belittled and treated like an animal.  My mother would go out on the weekends to drink and leave us.  I was then beaten and abused by my sisters.  She had many boyfriends... .  she'd have sex with the door open... .  then it would end and she'd go to bed for months.  We were there for her.  Make her tea go the store... .  for her ciggarettes.  Make food for ourselves and if she wanted it we were out of luck.  There was no other food for me.

We had to move in with her mother.  I was about 9, my grandmother had cancer and tried.  She was from a different generation and she had this very odd behavior.  She only loved one person at a time.  First my mother, then her son... .  then my oldest siter then my sister 3 years older than me.  When she started loving someone else she stopped loving the person before.  It was really weird... .  anyway,  I was not one of them. I was the un-loved.  At this point I had had no structure... .  no love, I was an annoyance.  At best.  No one ever wanted me around.  That is my most prodominent memory... .  no one wanted to be around me even.  

My grandmother died.  I felt nothing.  I think my mind had started trying to protect me at this point.  It wasnt until I was in my late teens I realized children had feelings.  I thought they just didnt have any, because I didnt.  Then things got really bad.  My older sisters got married... .  and my sister closest to me started staying away for long periods of time.  With family or friends.  I was alone.  I wet the bed well into my 20's. Because I was so malnourished my internal organs were smaller than they should have been.  My grandmather had been a child of the depression so she had stores of piled up food.  I ate dough with syrup on it... popcorn for days.  Canned chicken from 1952, it was still good, didnt taste great but it was food.  My mother would be in bed... all the time.  If she wasnt she was at the bar.  There was no food shopping no laundry doing... .  but if we were around other people she'd say things to make me feel like it was my fault.  "you look like a ragamuffi"... .  I heard that a lot.  It was all me... .  my fault.  everything.  I was the bane of her exsistance.  Then it got worse.  

My mother stated going to school.  It was her only focus.  We moved when she got her new 'posting'... She bought me nice clothes and made us clean the house.  It was because it was important to her she do well... .  nothing to do with us.  I wasnt at my granmothers anymore with the food... .  so I had to start stealing.  Money.  It was a good bet Id be beaten of she caught me but I couldnt do anything else.  She was still going to school, and ate there... .  so there was no need to shop... right?  We cleaned we cooked, we didnt clean very well... .  we were kids.  Then my sister got pregnant and left.  BTW... my mother said while talking about my sister."I wouldnt expect it of her I'd expect it of" ... .  and looked at me.  I was 13.  There were times there was no money... .  no money in the ATM after I had walked for miles... .  and I couldnt eat.  I remember once it was 3 days.  This was the worst time, I was alone, alone... I stopped talking.  I was so emotionally abused, so phycologically tortured I just shut down.  I stopped going to school... she didnt care.  Until the truant officer came.  Then I got beat up.  Because it affected her. It could hurt her career.  

She told everyone I was a thief... .  kicked me out for the first time at 13, then called the police and said I ran away.  She kicked me out often.  14, 15,  17.  

It was so constant, the abuse... .  we were there only for her benefit, and otherwise we were useless.  I was a 'loose end' if it wasnt for me she'd be happy.  She had this new life, new career.

My teeth were rotten... .  literally.  They started falling out when I was 17, because she never brought me to a dentist, and also another way I fed myself was sugar water.  

I survived, barely.  The only thing I had going for me the last time she kicked me out and I stayed out was I was moderatly intelligent, and had a self awareness that most people didnt.  I spent a lot of time alone and thought a lot.  I have stuggled.  To just live normally.  :)o laundry; dishes, make dinner, pay the bills... .  be a good person... .  blah blah... .  all of it.  I had such a tough time on my 20's because of this.  

I'm not sure if I should mention this.  To most it's a shock and its hard for some people to believe.  The career my mother went to school for... .  and got her first post... .  to become a minister.  She became one while I was in my teens... .  the stealing money phase.  I dont know if its interesting, a side note, ironic... .  for me it just is.  

I have the hardest time with the volume of abuse and neglect... its had to get into one session, one post, one conversation... .  and Ive never met anyone with similar experiences,  but from reading here I think I may find some kindred spirits.  Hope so... .  Ok done with Chapter 1... .  need to go to bed.  If you have read this far, Thanks...

M~

[Eeoye1]

 

I have to say I have just found this board today and it has really opened my eyes.  I have always had a hard time explaining to people the severity and it always seemed like 'normal' friends either were shocked or got uncomfotable.  I even think I've shocked a shrink or two over the years.  The reason this is number 1 is its a long story... .  and it's hard to convey.  But I figure gotta start somewhere.

I am 40,a single mom to a really good kid and my mother had BPD.  I was the youngest of 4 and have always known I was not wanted, a mistake.  It is my earliest memory.  My sisters saying they cried because I was a girl.  My parents were seperated and my father wanted a boy, my mother had me only because he said he would come back... .  but I was a girl.  So, they werent staying together and mom would go off her rocker.  

We lived in filth.  There was little food.  There was constant physical, mental and emotional abuse from my mother and my sisters.  It was fight or die.  I remember our crappy apatment being infested with fleas (ironic I know)  We would get evicted and have to move.  I did not have clean clothes, I didnt know people slept in pajamas.  I knew my mother disliked me intensly.  I was never touched or hugged.  I was berated belittled and treated like an animal.  My mother would go out on the weekends to drink and leave us.  I was then beaten and abused by my sisters.  She had many boyfriends... .  she'd have sex with the door open... .  then it would end and she'd go to bed for months.  We were there for her.  Make her tea go the store... .  for her ciggarettes.  Make food for ourselves and if she wanted it we were out of luck.  There was no other food for me.

We had to move in with her mother.  I was about 9, my grandmother had cancer and tried.  She was from a different generation and she had this very odd behavior.  She only loved one person at a time.  First my mother, then her son... .  then my oldest siter then my sister 3 years older than me.  When she started loving someone else she stopped loving the person before.  It was really weird... .  anyway,  I was not one of them. I was the un-loved.  At this point I had had no structure... .  no love, I was an annoyance.  At best.  No one ever wanted me around.  That is my most prodominent memory... .  no one wanted to be around me even.  

My grandmother died.  I felt nothing.  I think my mind had started trying to protect me at this point.  It wasnt until I was in my late teens I realized children had feelings.  I thought they just didnt have any, because I didnt.  Then things got really bad.  My older sisters got married... .  and my sister closest to me started staying away for long periods of time.  With family or friends.  I was alone.  I wet the bed well into my 20's. Because I was so malnourished my internal organs were smaller than they should have been.  My grandmather had been a child of the depression so she had stores of piled up food.  I ate dough with syrup on it... popcorn for days.  Canned chicken from 1952, it was still good, didnt taste great but it was food.  My mother would be in bed... all the time.  If she wasnt she was at the bar.  There was no food shopping no laundry doing... .  but if we were around other people she'd say things to make me feel like it was my fault.  "you look like a ragamuffi"... .  I heard that a lot.  It was all me... .  my fault.  everything.  I was the bane of her exsistance.  Then it got worse.  

My mother stated going to school.  It was her only focus.  We moved when she got her new 'posting'... She bought me nice clothes and made us clean the house.  It was because it was important to her she do well... .  nothing to do with us.  I wasnt at my granmothers anymore with the food... .  so I had to start stealing.  Money.  It was a good bet Id be beaten of she caught me but I couldnt do anything else.  She was still going to school, and ate there... .  so there was no need to shop... right?  We cleaned we cooked, we didnt clean very well... .  we were kids.  Then my sister got pregnant and left.  BTW... my mother said while talking about my sister."I wouldnt expect it of her I'd expect it of" ... .  and looked at me.  I was 13.  There were times there was no money... .  no money in the ATM after I had walked for miles... .  and I couldnt eat.  I remember once it was 3 days.  This was the worst time, I was alone, alone... I stopped talking.  I was so emotionally abused, so phycologically tortured I just shut down.  I stopped going to school... she didnt care.  Until the truant officer came.  Then I got beat up.  Because it affected her. It could hurt her career.  

She told everyone I was a thief... .  kicked me out for the first time at 13, then called the police and said I ran away.  She kicked me out often.  14, 15,  17.  

It was so constant, the abuse... .  we were there only for her benefit, and otherwise we were useless.  I was a 'loose end' if it wasnt for me she'd be happy.  She had this new life, new career.

My teeth were rotten... .  literally.  They started falling out when I was 17, because she never brought me to a dentist, and also another way I fed myself was sugar water.  

I survived, barely.  The only thing I had going for me the last time she kicked me out and I stayed out was I was moderatly intelligent, and had a self awareness that most people didnt.  I spent a lot of time alone and thought a lot.  I have stuggled.  To just live normally.  :)o laundry; dishes, make dinner, pay the bills... .  be a good person... .  blah blah... .  all of it.  I had such a tough time on my 20's because of this.  

I'm not sure if I should mention this.  To most it's a shock and its hard for some people to believe.  The career my mother went to school for... .  and got her first post... .  to become a minister.  She became one while I was in my teens... .  the stealing money phase.  I dont know if its interesting, a side note, ironic... .  for me it just is.  

I have the hardest time with the volume of abuse and neglect... its had to get into one session, one post, one conversation... .  and Ive never met anyone with similar experiences,  but from reading here I think I may find some kindred spirits.  Hope so... .  Ok done with Chapter 1... .  need to go to bed.  If you have read this far, Thanks...

M~

[Eeoye1]

The last time my mother kicked me out I was 19, things were actually OK.  I worked so I was able to provide for myself.  My mother met a man and within a month they were engaged.  He was her only focus.  She was love at light when he was around.  Then he told he I shouldnt be living there because I was over 18.  She agreed.  They married and I had a boyfriend st the time so I moved in with him.  She moved to another state and soon things fell apart with them.  I had my son.  This opened my eyes... .  WIDE.  My boyfrind was wonderful but not really there for me and our baby.  I was the only one who seemed to notice we had one.  His life didnt change.  I know now this is common with men but at the time I was alone with a baby all day without a car for months.  I broke it off.  I felt I had to choose because I was only one broken person and could not take care of both of them.

My mother because things with her husband had fallen apart, offered for us to live with her.  When we arrived it was obvious she had tried to clean, and wasnt done.  I said... its only for a few months because she had never wanted me before... .  she screamed, youre not even in the door and youre already talking about leaving!  It was not a good start.  It all rushed back.  It was her way or the highway.  I was there for her.  I was to cook and clean... .  everything.  I was overwhelmed... .  I couldnt... .  the house got gross and she blamed me.  If I was not caring for the baby the way she thought there was a three hour argument, because I was being disrespectful.  She told everyone what a terrible mother I was.  She thought I spoiled him... He was 7 months and she thought I should just put him in the crib and let him cry... .  however if he woke her up at night by crying she was pissed for days.

To the world she was sweet and admirable after all she had 'raised' 4 children a single mom and put herself through school.  She kicked me out over and over.  I had a week... .  a month... .  whatever.  I had a baby, and tried to ride it out.  It was 10 months.  She told me ask your father for money, hes nover dont anything for you... .  you better find a man to take care of you.  Finally, she gave me money to get a place.  She lorded it over me and told everyone she couldnt take it anymore, that I had to leave and she had to pay for it. 

I had no car no job, just a baby and a placce to live.  After this I focused on my son.  I would lie awake at night and go over what I had done that day... .  was it right. what could I do better.  I kept my temper in check, really tried to be a good mom.  I had relationships but kept them totally seperate from my son.  They ended badly usually.  I started realizing the pattern I was creating was like hers.

I did not know how to take care of myself, I didnt know how to clean consistantly.  BUT I think I was a good mom.  I was severly depressed most of the time.  I always made sure there was food and he had clean clothes.  I got treatment.  That was the first time I heard the words severly neglected.  I cut off times to my mother.  Her behavior was more and more erratic.  My sisters had listened to my mother, so to them I was. irresponible, a thief, a bad mother, a burden.  I lived my life and tried to get better with consistant living.  I failed most of the time but my son was safe and happy.  Fed and clothed. 

I was doing well... I had no contact really with my mother.  Then she almost died.  She was in a coma for 2 months.  I didnt care.  I didnt visit her.  My sisters were beside thimselved with worry.  Overwhelmed with grief.  They gave me hell for not being there.  I had to go.  I watched them frantically try and save her.  I felt nothing.  I pretended to care.  They (my sisters)didnt listen to me anyway when I had ideas about her treatment.  This began the faux me.  Its who I show to them.

She survived and my sisters bent over backwards to aid in her recovery.  My mother went on severe medications for her 'depression'.  Anti phycotics.  Everything after that, her behavior was attributed to th "coma".  There was little change except her rage.  She was almost like a baby.  Whiney and needy. 

She recieved a large settlement for the coma.  She gave us all money, because she didnt want us asking for it.  Her words.  I got my teeth fixed,  it was awesome.  $15,000 dollars later, I had nice teeth for the first time. I bought a good car.  Now her mindest was, we owe her.  She spent all the money in three years.  Sometime around when my son was 8 I decided not to bring him to her house.  Her dog had bitten him, and my mother had yelled at him.  Its funny shes never noticed he hasnt been there in 10 years. 

I avoid her as much as I can unless I can help it.  My sisters always make excuses for her.  I dont go for holidays, I make some excuse.  Unless I can't completly avoid it.  She is like a 3 year old... and I treat her as such.  I think of her as an aquaintance I have to see sometimes that I don't really like.  I have no emotional attachment whatsoever.  I could'nt care less.  I accepted a long time ago ahe would never be  a mother.  Over time I learned to take care of myself.  It's still hard sometimes.  Harder still is expailing all this... .  and having some understanding.  I cant talk to my sisters.  They only excuse her in some way.  There is no excuse. Period.  I have no expectations of her behavior and for some reason people think I still do, I suppose thats common.  But I dont. 

I have never had a parent.  I have tried a couple times to bring some examples up of some of this, to see what she woluld say (this was years ago) she had no memory of anything.  She is offended usually and denys everything.  She shocked!  I mean really shocked.  It blows my mind.  NO memory, I dont know if its denial, or she dosent remember because it has nothing to do with her.  She remebers every boyfriend and her life, but nothing to do with any of us. 

Its funny, now she wants me to move to her state.  She is dying for me to get up there.  She has a trailer she bought for my sister thats empty.  Every conversation is about me moving there.  Irony, in a nutshell. 

I know most likely no one will read all of this and thats ok.  Sorry about the punctuation.  It was more a steam of conciousness than anything.  Maybe someone will see something here they can relate to and I wont feel like I'm the only one who gets this, how bad this really is. 

M~

[ScarletOlive]

Eeoye1, I'm kind of low on words tonight, but want you to know I'm reading and listening. Good for you for taking that brave step and telling your story.