Re: College Age Craziess...

[Guest guest]

>

> Hey Gang,

> I have been thinking about the college-aged crazies, and I

wondering why the

> psycho mother didn't put me through that. Anyway, I realized that

the time

> when she went the craziest on me was when I started to express my

own

> preferences in elementary school about what I wanted to WEAR! I

have all of

> these terrible memories of her throwing huge tantrums in department

stores

> during my pre and early teen years. She would swear at sales

people, lie to

> my friends (there should be a special place in hell for mothers who

> assassinated their 10 year old daughter's character to her

friends), made up

> stories to make me seem and sound awful and refuse to buy me

clothes so that

> I was a total ragamuffin. By the time I reached college this

behavior had

> done so much damage to our relationship that, even though we lived

in the

> same house, she didn't even know when or where I was going.

>

> Anyone have a similar experience?

>

I have about the same memories regarding shopping for clothes with my

NADA. She would get mad if I tried on something she picked out that

I didn't like. When I got older, she realized she could no longer

force me to wear things I didn't like which created another whole

dynamic...another source of things to pick at. For example... " Are

you going to wear THAT. "

I distinctly remember going shopping with a friend for an outfit to

wear to a dance in high school rather than NADA and then when I came

home and showed her, she criticized what I picked out. I really

bothered me at the time. But it was better than shopping with

her...especially since I paid for the clothes anyway with my paper

route money...the last thing I wanted was her telling me what to buy

with money I earned myself. She was and still is horrible at picking

out clothes for me...I guess because she never thought about what I

would like...it was just about what she would like on me.

[Guest guest]

Girlscout...

Absolutely on the clothing thing. It was a huge

battleground. I can remember countless dressing room

meltdowns...hers and mine. I have to take some

responsibility for the conflict, though. I am

hypersensitive to texture...not quite on the level of

a sensory integration disorder, but enough that

certain things can be so uncomfortable to me that it's

distracting. (For instance, if the seam on my sock

isn't lined up properly it bothers me enough that I've

been known to pull my car over to park so I can fix

the sock!) As a child I obviously didn't know how to

articulate it other than " it feels funny " or " I don't

like it. " My mother would go NUTS trying to get an

exact reason from me and I couldn't explain it. Not

only did the fabric texture have to feel right, but I

couldn't (still can't!) handle rough seams, tags, or

anything that felt too snug. And contrarily, can't

handle pants that feel like they will fall down, or

where the crotch seam is hanging down to my knees!

Picky picky picky! I can remember being in a dressing

room when I was about 11...MORTIFIED because it was a

group dressing room. Then my mother had picked out

these " darling " outfits for me...and I felt

practically naked in them. I was very very very very

modest...overly modest, for sure. She went ballistic

because I didn't like the outfits, and screamed about

how she was just trying to do something nice for me

and I was so ungrateful...and then it became that I

was so demanding and only wanted things MY way. Well,

yeah...I remember one top specifically that was cut

midriff and had a criss-cross semi-open back to it. I

was SURE that if I wore it people would be able to see

my chest (not that I had breasts at 11, but I was

overly modest!).

Then, of course, she would end up buying me the

clothes I hated anyway. This gave her every excuse to

rage at me later for not appreciating what I was

given, and for wasting money by not wearing half the

things in my closet. I finally confronted her on this

in high school...I was 15 and we'd gone shopping at

the mall wherein she had bought me almost nothing I

needed and bought all these random " adorable " things I

hated hated hated hated having on. I was pouting

pretty seriously, so that aggravated her into a rage

about my ungratefulness. I finally yelled back at her

" Just take it all back, I'm not going to wear any of

it anyway!! " Instead, she took the couple of items

that I HAD wanted and went back into the mall to

return them, leaving me in the car. I waited a few

minutes, then ran after her. I couldn't find her in

the mall, so I went back out to the car...and it was

gone. She had LEFT me at the mall, at night, by

myself. And the mall was in a not so great part of

town. This was before cell phones...so I went back

into the mall, trying my best not to completely break

down and make a scene, and used the payphone. I

waited until I thought she would be home and called

home only to be told I could get myself home. So then

I had to call various friends until I finally found

someone's mom who was able to come pick me up and take

me home. It was absolutely humiliating. She won,

though. I never fought with her about my clothes

again. I just kept my mouth shut when I needed

things, wore what she bought me, and used my

babysitting money to buy the rest.

Ninera

--- Girlscout Cowboy

wrote:

> Hey Gang,

> I have been thinking about the college-aged crazies,

> and I wondering why the

> psycho mother didn't put me through that. Anyway, I

> realized that the time

> when she went the craziest on me was when I started

> to express my own

> preferences in elementary school about what I wanted

> to WEAR! I have all of

> these terrible memories of her throwing huge

> tantrums in department stores

> during my pre and early teen years. She would swear

> at sales people, lie to

> my friends (there should be a special place in hell

> for mothers who

> assassinated their 10 year old daughter's character

> to her friends), made up

> stories to make me seem and sound awful and refuse

> to buy me clothes so that

> I was a total ragamuffin. By the time I reached

> college this behavior had

> done so much damage to our relationship that, even

> though we lived in the

> same house, she didn't even know when or where I was

> going.

>

> Anyone have a similar experience?

>

>

> On 3/4/08, bink1227

> wrote:

> >

> > wow. that sounds exceptionally unhealthy. ick,

> and the thought of

> > suddenly being painted white scares the crap out

> of me. i would have

> > to do something fast to get back to black. i don't

> know how a kid who

> > has endured that kind of mom and dad could be

> willing to accept their

> > sudden change of affection. i would be SOOOO

> freaking suspicious...

> >

> > bink

> >

> >

> > >

> > > chloespaw01,

> > > I have seen this three times over,

> unfortunately, with my BPD In

> > > Laws going ballistic at the thought of someone

> leaving the

> > > dysfunction of their " nest. " In this family, the

> explosion starts

> > > in preparation for the leaving. My inlaws have 3

> adult children and

> > > whenver one prepared to leave for marriage, they

> freaked out!!!

> > > They destroyed all three weddings, as well as

> the showers and

> > > parties that preceeded the weddings. When I

> married their oldest

> > > son, my FIL spent 6 months in his dark basement

> watching the wedding

> > > video and crying! Not to mention, he is

> outwardly crying ON the

> > > video during the church service, and I don't

> mean a tear in the eye,

> > > I mean standing in the church aisle and all 6 ft

> 2 of him holding

> > > his face and crying for an hour. They just could

> not accept that

> > > there was a world outside of their little

> existence and they

> > > expected their kids to remain by their side

> forever.

> > >

> > > When their second child (daughter) prepared to

> leave, she spent the

> > > night out with her boyfriend once prior to the

> wedding. These two

> > > were not children; they were a doctor and a

> nurse in their 20's.

> > > Still, my inlaws flew into a rage and trashed

> her room, broke her

> > > framed college graduation photo and called her a

> slut!

> > > Unbelievable. When time came to give her a

> wedding shower, Nada,

> > > who never relished the mother role, refused to

> be involved or pay,

> > > so the children chipped in. (her excuse was

> " nobody gave ME a

> > > wedding shower, so why should I give one to

> anyone else?) When she

> > > finally got married, they threatened not to come

> over and over

> > > because they didn't like the family she was

> marrying into. This

> > > caused her unbelievable stress and pain. They

> threw hissy fits

> > > about EVERYYTHING and paid for nothing--as

> parents of the bride!

> > > They did end up coming, and my MIL wore wore a

> shocking hot pink

> > > sexy dress in shiny satin. For someone who

> refused to " break bread "

> > > with the new groom's family, she certainly

> seemed to want to be the

> > > hit of the party on wedding day. Sadly for them,

> she moved to

> > > another state after seeing the turmoil it was to

> live out of their

> > > home-- now she is forced to wine and dine them

> endlessly on visits

> > > where she flies them to see her or all over the

> world to shower them

> > > with her generosity. Meanwhile, they fight

> violently from time to

> > > time, then pretend it never happened! I can't

> understand any of it!

> > >

> > > Now that my H and I are NC with his parents,

> this daughter is

> > > painted white and can honestly do no wrong. They

> all conveniently

> > > forget the trauma and tears these parents caused

> to her with her

> > > wedding and with the birth of every baby where

> they did nothing to

> > > help her out. This girl had a NADA for a mom in

> every sense of the

> > > word, and her FADA caused her years of

> counseling as well. Yet her

> > > undying love remains--blinders of denial allow

> her to take whatever

> > > crumbs of affection they throw her way, since,

> after all, children

> > > like this are just starving for a parents' love.

> It's all

> > > tragically sad and sick. I'm glad my H and I are

> OUT of it.

> > > ~Elle

> > >

> >

> >

> >

>

>

> [Non-text portions of this message have been

> removed]

>

>

>

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>

[Guest guest]

wow. you're mom is a complete dick.

i learned very quickly (around 11) that accepting clothing from mom

was a bad idea, so i basically bought all my clothing from that day

on. of course i could only afford things from thriftiest of thrift

stores, but i actually got a kick out of having my 70 cents/shirt

wardrobe because i always looked like a ragamuffin and it went

entirely against the image i think my mom wanted me to project. then

my middle sister followed suit, then the youngest one did the same.

i was actually pretty concerned about being in a situation where i

depended on mom for a ride (because she a) liked to corner me and hit

me when i was in the car, was drunk frequently when she drove, and

c) didn't seem like she was above leaving me places to find a way

home) so i arranged for my own transportation most of the time. this

ALSO pissed her off, but at least i had a life outside the house.

MUAHAHAHA!!! CIVIL DISOBEDIENCE!!!

bink

>

> Girlscout...

>

> Absolutely on the clothing thing. It was a huge

> battleground. I can remember countless dressing room

> meltdowns...hers and mine. I have to take some

> responsibility for the conflict, though. I am

> hypersensitive to texture...not quite on the level of

> a sensory integration disorder, but enough that

> certain things can be so uncomfortable to me that it's

> distracting. (For instance, if the seam on my sock

> isn't lined up properly it bothers me enough that I've

> been known to pull my car over to park so I can fix

> the sock!) As a child I obviously didn't know how to

> articulate it other than " it feels funny " or " I don't

> like it. " My mother would go NUTS trying to get an

> exact reason from me and I couldn't explain it. Not

> only did the fabric texture have to feel right, but I

> couldn't (still can't!) handle rough seams, tags, or

> anything that felt too snug. And contrarily, can't

> handle pants that feel like they will fall down, or

> where the crotch seam is hanging down to my knees!

> Picky picky picky! I can remember being in a dressing

> room when I was about 11...MORTIFIED because it was a

> group dressing room. Then my mother had picked out

> these " darling " outfits for me...and I felt

> practically naked in them. I was very very very very

> modest...overly modest, for sure. She went ballistic

> because I didn't like the outfits, and screamed about

> how she was just trying to do something nice for me

> and I was so ungrateful...and then it became that I

> was so demanding and only wanted things MY way. Well,

> yeah...I remember one top specifically that was cut

> midriff and had a criss-cross semi-open back to it. I

> was SURE that if I wore it people would be able to see

> my chest (not that I had breasts at 11, but I was

> overly modest!).

>

> Then, of course, she would end up buying me the

> clothes I hated anyway. This gave her every excuse to

> rage at me later for not appreciating what I was

> given, and for wasting money by not wearing half the

> things in my closet. I finally confronted her on this

> in high school...I was 15 and we'd gone shopping at

> the mall wherein she had bought me almost nothing I

> needed and bought all these random " adorable " things I

> hated hated hated hated having on. I was pouting

> pretty seriously, so that aggravated her into a rage

> about my ungratefulness. I finally yelled back at her

> " Just take it all back, I'm not going to wear any of

> it anyway!! " Instead, she took the couple of items

> that I HAD wanted and went back into the mall to

> return them, leaving me in the car. I waited a few

> minutes, then ran after her. I couldn't find her in

> the mall, so I went back out to the car...and it was

> gone. She had LEFT me at the mall, at night, by

> myself. And the mall was in a not so great part of

> town. This was before cell phones...so I went back

> into the mall, trying my best not to completely break

> down and make a scene, and used the payphone. I

> waited until I thought she would be home and called

> home only to be told I could get myself home. So then

> I had to call various friends until I finally found

> someone's mom who was able to come pick me up and take

> me home. It was absolutely humiliating. She won,

> though. I never fought with her about my clothes

> again. I just kept my mouth shut when I needed

> things, wore what she bought me, and used my

> babysitting money to buy the rest.

>

> Ninera

>

[Guest guest]

Holy Sh*t, what a bi*ch, I think my mom ditched me a time or two, but the

details aren't that clear. What I do remember is that when she bought me a

dress I didn't want for Easter, I tried it on and told her so. She happened

to be selling a piece of old furniture at the same time, she told my friend

that " she sold her childhood dresser to buy me an Easter dress, and then I

didn't want it. " I was taking it back, so it wasn't like she was out the

$20. I remember the look on my friend's face and her mom's face. It was

horrifying. The girl wasn't my friend after that.

I also remember being terrified to ride in the car with my mom, and one

time, when I asked her to take me to a job interview, she made me drive the

car to it because she was too lazy to take me - so she forced me to drive

w/o a lisence. I was the kind of kid that would never have done that - maybe

she was trying to set me up and get me thrown in juvenielle hall or

something? Who knows. . .

On Tue, Mar 4, 2008 at 5:58 PM, bink1227

wrote:

> wow. you're mom is a complete dick.

>

> i learned very quickly (around 11) that accepting clothing from mom

> was a bad idea, so i basically bought all my clothing from that day

> on. of course i could only afford things from thriftiest of thrift

> stores, but i actually got a kick out of having my 70 cents/shirt

> wardrobe because i always looked like a ragamuffin and it went

> entirely against the image i think my mom wanted me to project. then

> my middle sister followed suit, then the youngest one did the same.

>

> i was actually pretty concerned about being in a situation where i

> depended on mom for a ride (because she a) liked to corner me and hit

> me when i was in the car, was drunk frequently when she drove, and

> c) didn't seem like she was above leaving me places to find a way

> home) so i arranged for my own transportation most of the time. this

> ALSO pissed her off, but at least i had a life outside the house.

>

> MUAHAHAHA!!! CIVIL DISOBEDIENCE!!!

> bink

>

>

>

> >

> > Girlscout...

> >

> > Absolutely on the clothing thing. It was a huge

> > battleground. I can remember countless dressing room

> > meltdowns...hers and mine. I have to take some

> > responsibility for the conflict, though. I am

> > hypersensitive to texture...not quite on the level of

> > a sensory integration disorder, but enough that

> > certain things can be so uncomfortable to me that it's

> > distracting. (For instance, if the seam on my sock

> > isn't lined up properly it bothers me enough that I've

> > been known to pull my car over to park so I can fix

> > the sock!) As a child I obviously didn't know how to

> > articulate it other than " it feels funny " or " I don't

> > like it. " My mother would go NUTS trying to get an

> > exact reason from me and I couldn't explain it. Not

> > only did the fabric texture have to feel right, but I

> > couldn't (still can't!) handle rough seams, tags, or

> > anything that felt too snug. And contrarily, can't

> > handle pants that feel like they will fall down, or

> > where the crotch seam is hanging down to my knees!

> > Picky picky picky! I can remember being in a dressing

> > room when I was about 11...MORTIFIED because it was a

> > group dressing room. Then my mother had picked out

> > these " darling " outfits for me...and I felt

> > practically naked in them. I was very very very very

> > modest...overly modest, for sure. She went ballistic

> > because I didn't like the outfits, and screamed about

> > how she was just trying to do something nice for me

> > and I was so ungrateful...and then it became that I

> > was so demanding and only wanted things MY way. Well,

> > yeah...I remember one top specifically that was cut

> > midriff and had a criss-cross semi-open back to it. I

> > was SURE that if I wore it people would be able to see

> > my chest (not that I had breasts at 11, but I was

> > overly modest!).

> >

> > Then, of course, she would end up buying me the

> > clothes I hated anyway. This gave her every excuse to

> > rage at me later for not appreciating what I was

> > given, and for wasting money by not wearing half the

> > things in my closet. I finally confronted her on this

> > in high school...I was 15 and we'd gone shopping at

> > the mall wherein she had bought me almost nothing I

> > needed and bought all these random " adorable " things I

> > hated hated hated hated having on. I was pouting

> > pretty seriously, so that aggravated her into a rage

> > about my ungratefulness. I finally yelled back at her

> > " Just take it all back, I'm not going to wear any of

> > it anyway!! " Instead, she took the couple of items

> > that I HAD wanted and went back into the mall to

> > return them, leaving me in the car. I waited a few

> > minutes, then ran after her. I couldn't find her in

> > the mall, so I went back out to the car...and it was

> > gone. She had LEFT me at the mall, at night, by

> > myself. And the mall was in a not so great part of

> > town. This was before cell phones...so I went back

> > into the mall, trying my best not to completely break

> > down and make a scene, and used the payphone. I

> > waited until I thought she would be home and called

> > home only to be told I could get myself home. So then

> > I had to call various friends until I finally found

> > someone's mom who was able to come pick me up and take

> > me home. It was absolutely humiliating. She won,

> > though. I never fought with her about my clothes

> > again. I just kept my mouth shut when I needed

> > things, wore what she bought me, and used my

> > babysitting money to buy the rest.

> >

> > Ninera

> >

>

>

>