Re: My childhood experience/ needing proof before they believe you

January 10, 2008

Much of your story is similar to mine. My mother never apologized for anything.

I also had to entertain myself (she still rants about how independent she made

me at 3), I couldn't get Barbies or any other toys that I wanted either,

everything was about her until I was a teen then she lived her life through me,

smothered me, overtook me. I like your comment " She had the uncanny ability to

invade me and ignore me all at the same time. " The bit about her not believing

you until she had proof (from a surgeon is so familiar to me). I wonder if this

is typical of most BPD's? I find my mother never believes me until others

support what I am saying even when they don't have my background or training and

are lay people to what it is we are dicussing. Does anyone else experience this?

Kelley

To: WTOAdultChildren1@...: vegdeanna@...: Thu, 10 Jan

2008 05:33:08 +0000Subject: My childhood experience

Thought we could all share, as I really enjoyed reading Kyla's story.Our nadas

are all the same yet different, some more HF than others. Here's my story:When I

was in kindergarten, I made my mother a Valentine's Day cardand she threw it in

the trash by the end of the day. When I saw itand was clearly hurt, she just

shrugged. She was never apologetic foranything.I have memories of trying to

entertain myself my entire childhood, nomemories at all of my parents playing

with me. I learned early onthat I was a nuisance and nobody wanted to spend time

with me.I never had a say in what movie we went to see; we saw movies thatwere

not age appropriate because my parents wanted to see them, like Bond when I

was 8 or 9, but they would not take me to see Greaseno matter how much I

begged.I always felt like my feelings and desires did not matter. My fatherwas

working or busy and my mother would humor me when I talked to her,but usually

with an eye roll and a bored look on her face. I neverfelt like anyone was happy

to see me.She would even tell me " don't wear out your welcome " almost every

timeI went to the neighbor's house, letting me know that everyone wouldfind me

annoying.When my need to use the restroom interfered with what my nada wasdoing,

I was left to poop my pants and it was still not enough of anemergency for her

to take me to the bathroom when I told her whathappened.A pedophile stalked me

and chased me home, and when I told my mother,she told me to set the table; she

didn't call the police or seem tobelieve me.She exploded over minor things, dug

through my trash, shamed me forthrowing a sliver of soap out, read my diary,

told me I'd just gain itback when I lost weight, laughed at me when I was

hurting. Wouldn'ttake me to the gynecologist when I had horrible periods (turned

out Ihad endometriosis). Years later, when the Dr. cut me open and toldher I

must have been in terrible pain, THEN she believed me.I could not know what

would make her explode. If traffic was bad,she'd scream at me. Sometimes I would

brace for an explosion thatwould not come. I was always on alert.She had the

uncanny ability to invade me and ignore me all at the sametime.She always

expected the worst from me, thought I was a liar and doingdrugs though I was

really a pretty " good " kid. Mooned over my brotherand exclaimed he was her

favorite while looking at me for a hurtreaction. Pitted my brother against me.

Told me my fatherpractically forced her to have sex with him. Tried to get me on

herside in their conflicts too. Badmouthed other family members to me,especially

those closest to my age.For years, I excused her yelling at me as being because

she hated herjob, but I always felt like she hated me too.Other than that,

dinner was always on the table and the mortgage wasalways paid and I never went

without shoes. I always felt hated andignored though. Her feelings were always

important, and mine werealways discounted.It was as if she thought a child could

not feel normal feelings anddid not deserve a voice of any kind.-Deanna

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January 10, 2008

It has always been very important for nada to not credit anything I say or might

know. She has a repertoire of strategies, from completely not " hearing " through

disbelief, pointed citing of experts who say the opposite as a conversation

gambit, sneering in contempt, all long before she gets to the rage. Or sometimes

she will ask me my opinion, smile sweetly and then I overhear her mocking me for

being so stupid. She is at a disadvantage now that step father has died; she

needs help and advice, but doesnt want me to know anything she doesnt. So she

asks me questions I dont know the answers to( eg about probate) over and over

while the things I can help with she ignores or ourright refuses. It is

fascinating.

and btw re the doll presents? I always loathed dolls, as some others have said,

and always got a new one every Christmas. It was the only gift I was allowed to

play with on Christmas day, and many under the abundant tree disappeared never

to be seen again. Probably returned to the store for refunds. Last year she

rounded up all the fancy dolls from the basement and gifted me with them again,

as keepsakes or " valuable antiques " . She of course gave away all my books that I

loved and stupidly left with her, thinking she liked having them there. Does

anyone out there LIKE dolls? I d be delighted to send them to you!

kelley ward wrote: