Re: Nada's refrain: its your own damned fault

[Guest guest]

Anuria -- I can so relate!!

This might seem like a strange comparison, but your urge to cry at

such kindness reminds me of that sweet scene in the movie " Elephant

Man " -- the man who was so " grotesquely " deformed that when a woman

showed him kindness and treated him politely like she did everyone

else, he burst into tears. It's one of the most moving scenes I've

ever witnessed, and I think it's the same type of thing: When you

don't know anything other than harping criticism, a kindness can

blindside you.

My mother was a constant, screeching faultfinder, too. I think it's

all borne of fear and anxiety -- she is scared of everything. They

seem to have lost the ability to comfort themselves and take charge

of life, doing what they can and leaving the rest to God.

Another aspect of my mother's raging: She would stay up very late

and then sleep in when it was time for my brother and I to get ready

for school. We were in elementary school. I distinctly remember

that this happened when I was 10, 11 and 12, because I remember what

house we lived in at the time. So, that's 4th, 5th and 6th grade,

approximately. Far too young, in my opinion, to be left to get

myself and my 4 years younger brother ready for school in time to

catch the bus. And if she woke up during our morning routine, we

cringed -- looked at each other in fear, because she would get up

and screech at us at how we did everything wrong -- maybe left

cereal bowls out or whatever -- I just distinctly remember dreading

her getting up with us.

Isn't that sad? That our morning interactions with our own mother

weren't more nurturing? That she didn't send us out into the world

having been fed a hot breakfast and maybe having a few laughs

together? Maybe she could have showed us the life lesson of how

things can be organized and flow well, so that you can greet the day

with confidence and preparedness? Nah -- we did the best we could,

but with no guidance and plenty of criticism from her.

Her screaming at us was to cover her own guilt at being so damn

lazy. She didn't have a job outside the home -- so it's not like

she was too busy to help us. She was just selfish and lazy. We

were in the way of her life of leisure.

I wonder why I never mentioned it to my dad, either. He left for

work early, so he was able to turn a blind eye to it. Years later,

he told me he always admired that my brother and I got ourselves

ready for school so young -- a blatant admission that he knew she

wasn't getting out of bed. He didn't have the courage to say to

her " Hey, you need to be getting out of bed and getting the kids

ready for school "

He was too scared of her, so we were left to deal with her on our

own. He role modeled to us that we should be scared of her, too.

-Kyla

>

> Our nada was so high-strung, nervous, perfectionistic, and

irritable that any time my

> Sister or I became ill or got hurt (I was a very active child and

would fall out of trees I had

> climbed, or get thrown from my bike, etc.) we dreaded telling nada

and would sometimes

> even hide it from her, because it made her angry! I got hit in

the back of the head once by

> a heavy wooden swing; hard enough to raise a lump. When I

realized my head was

> bleeding it scared me. When I ran to nada for help, she only

began raging at me, " It's your

> own damned fault, you idiot, why the hell did you go jump out of

the damned swing in the

> first place, etc.,etc. "

>

> Nada also pretty much left me alone for days (except for bringing

in food and medicine)

> when I had to be confined to a dark room when I had the measles; I

think I went out of my

> mind with boredom. After several days of confinement, I finally

couldn't take it anymore

> and snuck out of the sickroom into my own bedroom, to read a

book. The light did hurt

> my eyes, but it was so good to be able to read something,

anything! Nada found me and

> began screaming at me that I had ruined my eyes, and that if I

went blind it would be my

> own fault! I began crying hysterically, thinking that I was going

to go blind at any

> moment. I did wind up having to wear glasses by the third grade,

but according to nada

> this was because I had disobeyed her and ruined my eyes, myself,

and not because both

> sides of the family were/are very nearsighted.

>

> There were occasional glimpses that told us that the way nada

treated us was overly harsh,

> and not normal. One winter dad took us for an afternoon to a

nearby golf course so Sister

> and I could slide down the snowy hills on our toboggan and

generally romp around freely.

> For some reason, nada was not with us. After several hours of

this we were growing tired

> and cold, so dad walked us to a nearby friends' house. An older

lady was there, someone

> we didn't know (dad's friend's mother, I think) and she looked at

Sister and me and said,

> " Oh, you poor little things, you look half-frozen! Would you like

some hot chocolate?

> Come in here by the stove and warm up! " and she hugged us and

helped us get our wet

> outer clothes off. I was open-mouthed with shock. She wasn't

yelling at us; weren't we

> making a mess in her kitchen? She only seemed worried about us

and was being really

> kind to us. It felt so good, I think I cried a little.

>

> -Annie

>

[Guest guest]

((((((((kylaboo))))))))))

No, I don't think that's a strange comparison: it does fit; that scene makes me

tear up too.

I should have explained what was so odd to me about this lady we didn't know

being kind

to us was that *nobody else was around.* Dad and his friend (Carl?) had gone

out to Carl's

workshop and left me and Sister alone with this woman.

We were used to being treated kindly by nada when there were other people

around, it

was only when we were alone with her that she'd really lash out at us. She kept

it to a

minimum when dad was home, so he didn't know the worst of it.

My child-brain had reasoned that all adult women behaved one way when they were

around other adults, and another way entirely when they were alone with their

kids, or a

kid. So, being treated kindly by a strange woman for no reason made a lasting

impression

on me.

What a sorry piece of work your nada was; you were abused by neglect. That is

sad, that

you were delegated deputy-mommy to your younger sibs and did nada's job for her,

and

even so got screamed at if you (A) woke her up accidentally and/or ( didn't

perform your

deputy-mom job to nada's specifications.

That seems to be a nada hallmark: putting their kids in no-win situations, so

the child is

always in the " damned if you do, and damned if you don't " spot.

-Annie

> >

> > Our nada was so high-strung, nervous, perfectionistic, and

> irritable that any time my

> > Sister or I became ill or got hurt (I was a very active child and

> would fall out of trees I had

> > climbed, or get thrown from my bike, etc.) we dreaded telling nada

> and would sometimes

> > even hide it from her, because it made her angry! I got hit in

> the back of the head once by

> > a heavy wooden swing; hard enough to raise a lump. When I

> realized my head was

> > bleeding it scared me. When I ran to nada for help, she only

> began raging at me, " It's your

> > own damned fault, you idiot, why the hell did you go jump out of

> the damned swing in the

> > first place, etc.,etc. "

> >

> > Nada also pretty much left me alone for days (except for bringing

> in food and medicine)

> > when I had to be confined to a dark room when I had the measles; I

> think I went out of my

> > mind with boredom. After several days of confinement, I finally

> couldn't take it anymore

> > and snuck out of the sickroom into my own bedroom, to read a

> book. The light did hurt

> > my eyes, but it was so good to be able to read something,

> anything! Nada found me and

> > began screaming at me that I had ruined my eyes, and that if I

> went blind it would be my

> > own fault! I began crying hysterically, thinking that I was going

> to go blind at any

> > moment. I did wind up having to wear glasses by the third grade,

> but according to nada

> > this was because I had disobeyed her and ruined my eyes, myself,

> and not because both

> > sides of the family were/are very nearsighted.

> >

> > There were occasional glimpses that told us that the way nada

> treated us was overly harsh,

> > and not normal. One winter dad took us for an afternoon to a

> nearby golf course so Sister

> > and I could slide down the snowy hills on our toboggan and

> generally romp around freely.

> > For some reason, nada was not with us. After several hours of

> this we were growing tired

> > and cold, so dad walked us to a nearby friends' house. An older

> lady was there, someone

> > we didn't know (dad's friend's mother, I think) and she looked at

> Sister and me and said,

> > " Oh, you poor little things, you look half-frozen! Would you like

> some hot chocolate?

> > Come in here by the stove and warm up! " and she hugged us and

> helped us get our wet

> > outer clothes off. I was open-mouthed with shock. She wasn't

> yelling at us; weren't we

> > making a mess in her kitchen? She only seemed worried about us

> and was being really

> > kind to us. It felt so good, I think I cried a little.

> >

> > -Annie

> >

>

[Guest guest]

wow. that's so weird. every day during the school year when we had

to wake up, mom would throw a fit. EVERY. FREAKING. DAY. my mom

would generally scream at me in the car on the way to school through

sophomore year. i eventually arranged my own rides, but this somehow

pissed her off as well.

mom would blame me for things that hadn't even happened. if i took my

baby sister anywhere, mom would shout, " if she dies, it'll be ON YOUR

HEAD! " yeah. okay. i got it. the kid can die. no need to rub it in.

i generally didn't tell her when i was injured or sick. she usually

wouldn't believe my anyway and just tell me that i was lazy and wanted

to get out of housework (that i never did right, anyway). it was just

a crazy downward spiral of badness.

she used to coerce me into dying her hair or giving her a massage. i

would tell her i didn't know what i was doing with the dye, but she

would make me do it anyway. then if something went wrong (i missed a

spot or whatever), she would totally flip out on me and accuse me of

wanting to make her look stupid. i was freaking 11. 11!

the massage thing is actually kind of bad. i just thought about this

today, too. she would ask me to rub her shoulders and i would resist.

this would either result in 1) a guilt trip, 2) being told i was

incredibly lazy and selfish, or 3) being compared to my little sister

who was the most awesomest back rubber of them all (there is some

truth to this...she's freaking amazing). eventually i would relent,

but if it wasn't hard enough, then i would be told how weak i was. if

i got tired, i would be told how lazy i was. if she suddenly didn't

want it to be hard, i would be screamed at in the " what is WRONG with

you!?!?! " vein. i got so down and paranoid about it that i just

stopped touching people. this was when i was 16 i guess. i still

can't touch peoples' backs without feeling like i'm going to get

screamed at for doing it wrong. reciprocating a back rub actually

fills me with nauseating dread.

a little OT?

bink

> >

> > Our nada was so high-strung, nervous, perfectionistic, and

> irritable that any time my

> > Sister or I became ill or got hurt (I was a very active child and

> would fall out of trees I had

> > climbed, or get thrown from my bike, etc.) we dreaded telling nada

> and would sometimes

> > even hide it from her, because it made her angry! I got hit in

> the back of the head once by

> > a heavy wooden swing; hard enough to raise a lump. When I

> realized my head was

> > bleeding it scared me. When I ran to nada for help, she only

> began raging at me, " It's your

> > own damned fault, you idiot, why the hell did you go jump out of

> the damned swing in the

> > first place, etc.,etc. "

> >

> > Nada also pretty much left me alone for days (except for bringing

> in food and medicine)

> > when I had to be confined to a dark room when I had the measles; I

> think I went out of my

> > mind with boredom. After several days of confinement, I finally

> couldn't take it anymore

> > and snuck out of the sickroom into my own bedroom, to read a

> book. The light did hurt

> > my eyes, but it was so good to be able to read something,

> anything! Nada found me and

> > began screaming at me that I had ruined my eyes, and that if I

> went blind it would be my

> > own fault! I began crying hysterically, thinking that I was going

> to go blind at any

> > moment. I did wind up having to wear glasses by the third grade,

> but according to nada

> > this was because I had disobeyed her and ruined my eyes, myself,

> and not because both

> > sides of the family were/are very nearsighted.

> >

> > There were occasional glimpses that told us that the way nada

> treated us was overly harsh,

> > and not normal. One winter dad took us for an afternoon to a

> nearby golf course so Sister

> > and I could slide down the snowy hills on our toboggan and

> generally romp around freely.

> > For some reason, nada was not with us. After several hours of

> this we were growing tired

> > and cold, so dad walked us to a nearby friends' house. An older

> lady was there, someone

> > we didn't know (dad's friend's mother, I think) and she looked at

> Sister and me and said,

> > " Oh, you poor little things, you look half-frozen! Would you like

> some hot chocolate?

> > Come in here by the stove and warm up! " and she hugged us and

> helped us get our wet

> > outer clothes off. I was open-mouthed with shock. She wasn't

> yelling at us; weren't we

> > making a mess in her kitchen? She only seemed worried about us

> and was being really

> > kind to us. It felt so good, I think I cried a little.

> >

> > -Annie

> >

>

[Guest guest]

Oh my goodness! Your post reminded me of the revulsion I'd feel

when my mom would lift her shirt exposing her back, dip her head and

say " Scratch my back, will ya? " -- it grossed me out!

I don't like it! I don't want to scratch her back with my

fingernails! It's a forced intimacy that I really don't want. I

truly think that deep down, she thinks it proves we're intimates or

something.

I pray she doesn't ask me again -- it's been awhile -- but I don't

know what you say to an exposed back!

It also bugs me when she picks up my glass of water and drinks from

it. She does this all the time. Again, I think it's both a

challenge ( " I dare you to ask me not to do this " ) and a sham

intimacy ploy.

Your mom sounds a lot like mine! And now that I'm a mom and my kids

and I have GOOD mornings getting ready for school, my anger at my

mother's selfishness is renewed. All those ruined childhood

mornings -- I resent her for that.

-Kyla

> > >

> > > Our nada was so high-strung, nervous, perfectionistic, and

> > irritable that any time my

> > > Sister or I became ill or got hurt (I was a very active child

and

> > would fall out of trees I had

> > > climbed, or get thrown from my bike, etc.) we dreaded telling

nada

> > and would sometimes

> > > even hide it from her, because it made her angry! I got hit

in

> > the back of the head once by

> > > a heavy wooden swing; hard enough to raise a lump. When I

> > realized my head was

> > > bleeding it scared me. When I ran to nada for help, she only

> > began raging at me, " It's your

> > > own damned fault, you idiot, why the hell did you go jump out

of

> > the damned swing in the

> > > first place, etc.,etc. "

> > >

> > > Nada also pretty much left me alone for days (except for

bringing

> > in food and medicine)

> > > when I had to be confined to a dark room when I had the

measles; I

> > think I went out of my

> > > mind with boredom. After several days of confinement, I

finally

> > couldn't take it anymore

> > > and snuck out of the sickroom into my own bedroom, to read a

> > book. The light did hurt

> > > my eyes, but it was so good to be able to read something,

> > anything! Nada found me and

> > > began screaming at me that I had ruined my eyes, and that if I

> > went blind it would be my

> > > own fault! I began crying hysterically, thinking that I was

going

> > to go blind at any

> > > moment. I did wind up having to wear glasses by the third

grade,

> > but according to nada

> > > this was because I had disobeyed her and ruined my eyes,

myself,

> > and not because both

> > > sides of the family were/are very nearsighted.

> > >

> > > There were occasional glimpses that told us that the way nada

> > treated us was overly harsh,

> > > and not normal. One winter dad took us for an afternoon to a

> > nearby golf course so Sister

> > > and I could slide down the snowy hills on our toboggan and

> > generally romp around freely.

> > > For some reason, nada was not with us. After several hours of

> > this we were growing tired

> > > and cold, so dad walked us to a nearby friends' house. An

older

> > lady was there, someone

> > > we didn't know (dad's friend's mother, I think) and she looked

at

> > Sister and me and said,

> > > " Oh, you poor little things, you look half-frozen! Would you

like

> > some hot chocolate?

> > > Come in here by the stove and warm up! " and she hugged us and

> > helped us get our wet

> > > outer clothes off. I was open-mouthed with shock. She wasn't

> > yelling at us; weren't we

> > > making a mess in her kitchen? She only seemed worried about

us

> > and was being really

> > > kind to us. It felt so good, I think I cried a little.

> > >

> > > -Annie

> > >

> >

>

[Guest guest]

Just to clarify: the backscratching thing started when I was an

adult. Weird!!

-K

> > > >

> > > > Our nada was so high-strung, nervous, perfectionistic, and

> > > irritable that any time my

> > > > Sister or I became ill or got hurt (I was a very active

child

> and

> > > would fall out of trees I had

> > > > climbed, or get thrown from my bike, etc.) we dreaded

telling

> nada

> > > and would sometimes

> > > > even hide it from her, because it made her angry! I got hit

> in

> > > the back of the head once by

> > > > a heavy wooden swing; hard enough to raise a lump. When I

> > > realized my head was

> > > > bleeding it scared me. When I ran to nada for help, she

only

> > > began raging at me, " It's your

> > > > own damned fault, you idiot, why the hell did you go jump

out

> of

> > > the damned swing in the

> > > > first place, etc.,etc. "

> > > >

> > > > Nada also pretty much left me alone for days (except for

> bringing

> > > in food and medicine)

> > > > when I had to be confined to a dark room when I had the

> measles; I

> > > think I went out of my

> > > > mind with boredom. After several days of confinement, I

> finally

> > > couldn't take it anymore

> > > > and snuck out of the sickroom into my own bedroom, to read a

> > > book. The light did hurt

> > > > my eyes, but it was so good to be able to read something,

> > > anything! Nada found me and

> > > > began screaming at me that I had ruined my eyes, and that if

I

> > > went blind it would be my

> > > > own fault! I began crying hysterically, thinking that I was

> going

> > > to go blind at any

> > > > moment. I did wind up having to wear glasses by the third

> grade,

> > > but according to nada

> > > > this was because I had disobeyed her and ruined my eyes,

> myself,

> > > and not because both

> > > > sides of the family were/are very nearsighted.

> > > >

> > > > There were occasional glimpses that told us that the way

nada

> > > treated us was overly harsh,

> > > > and not normal. One winter dad took us for an afternoon to

a

> > > nearby golf course so Sister

> > > > and I could slide down the snowy hills on our toboggan and

> > > generally romp around freely.

> > > > For some reason, nada was not with us. After several hours

of

> > > this we were growing tired

> > > > and cold, so dad walked us to a nearby friends' house. An

> older

> > > lady was there, someone

> > > > we didn't know (dad's friend's mother, I think) and she

looked

> at

> > > Sister and me and said,

> > > > " Oh, you poor little things, you look half-frozen! Would

you

> like

> > > some hot chocolate?

> > > > Come in here by the stove and warm up! " and she hugged us

and

> > > helped us get our wet

> > > > outer clothes off. I was open-mouthed with shock. She

wasn't

> > > yelling at us; weren't we

> > > > making a mess in her kitchen? She only seemed worried about

> us

> > > and was being really

> > > > kind to us. It felt so good, I think I cried a little.

> > > >

> > > > -Annie

> > > >

> > >

> >

>

[Guest guest]

It IS neglect, you're right -- and she's doing it to this day -- and

of course, heaping all the blame of our fractured relationship on me.

The truth is, I love some aspects of her personality (her sense of

humor is about it, actually), but as a person, I really can't stand

the woman. She was a shitty mother when I was growing up, and she

has reverted to being a shitty mother now that I'm approaching

middle age. I've just recently given myself permission not to like

who she is.

-Kyla

> > >

> > > Our nada was so high-strung, nervous, perfectionistic, and

> > irritable that any time my

> > > Sister or I became ill or got hurt (I was a very active child

and

> > would fall out of trees I had

> > > climbed, or get thrown from my bike, etc.) we dreaded telling

nada

> > and would sometimes

> > > even hide it from her, because it made her angry! I got hit

in

> > the back of the head once by

> > > a heavy wooden swing; hard enough to raise a lump. When I

> > realized my head was

> > > bleeding it scared me. When I ran to nada for help, she only

> > began raging at me, " It's your

> > > own damned fault, you idiot, why the hell did you go jump out

of

> > the damned swing in the

> > > first place, etc.,etc. "

> > >

> > > Nada also pretty much left me alone for days (except for

bringing

> > in food and medicine)

> > > when I had to be confined to a dark room when I had the

measles; I

> > think I went out of my

> > > mind with boredom. After several days of confinement, I

finally

> > couldn't take it anymore

> > > and snuck out of the sickroom into my own bedroom, to read a

> > book. The light did hurt

> > > my eyes, but it was so good to be able to read something,

> > anything! Nada found me and

> > > began screaming at me that I had ruined my eyes, and that if I

> > went blind it would be my

> > > own fault! I began crying hysterically, thinking that I was

going

> > to go blind at any

> > > moment. I did wind up having to wear glasses by the third

grade,

> > but according to nada

> > > this was because I had disobeyed her and ruined my eyes,

myself,

> > and not because both

> > > sides of the family were/are very nearsighted.

> > >

> > > There were occasional glimpses that told us that the way nada

> > treated us was overly harsh,

> > > and not normal. One winter dad took us for an afternoon to a

> > nearby golf course so Sister

> > > and I could slide down the snowy hills on our toboggan and

> > generally romp around freely.

> > > For some reason, nada was not with us. After several hours of

> > this we were growing tired

> > > and cold, so dad walked us to a nearby friends' house. An

older

> > lady was there, someone

> > > we didn't know (dad's friend's mother, I think) and she looked

at

> > Sister and me and said,

> > > " Oh, you poor little things, you look half-frozen! Would you

like

> > some hot chocolate?

> > > Come in here by the stove and warm up! " and she hugged us and

> > helped us get our wet

> > > outer clothes off. I was open-mouthed with shock. She wasn't

> > yelling at us; weren't we

> > > making a mess in her kitchen? She only seemed worried about

us

> > and was being really

> > > kind to us. It felt so good, I think I cried a little.

> > >

> > > -Annie

> > >

> >

>

[Guest guest]

Yes, my nada did all that stuff too. She never drove me to school or got me

ready. She always screamed if I didn't do her adult tasks her way. And if I

got hurt, there was hell to pay. She made me refinish the floors in our

house when I was 13. I was prying up the boards that hold the carpet down

and hit myself in the head with the hammer full force. I'm sure I got a

concussion, I blacked out and then saw stars for about 30 minutes. I didn't

tell either of my parents about it (she was home) because I knew they would

make it worse. The families I was babysitting for were the only ones who

were concerned about my blackened-eye.

" Forced intimacy " - that is exactly what she tried to do, good choice of

words.

> It IS neglect, you're right -- and she's doing it to this day -- and

> of course, heaping all the blame of our fractured relationship on me.

>

> The truth is, I love some aspects of her personality (her sense of

> humor is about it, actually), but as a person, I really can't stand

> the woman. She was a shitty mother when I was growing up, and she

> has reverted to being a shitty mother now that I'm approaching

> middle age. I've just recently given myself permission not to like

> who she is.

>

>

> -Kyla

>

>

> > > >

> > > > Our nada was so high-strung, nervous, perfectionistic, and

> > > irritable that any time my

> > > > Sister or I became ill or got hurt (I was a very active child

> and

> > > would fall out of trees I had

> > > > climbed, or get thrown from my bike, etc.) we dreaded telling

> nada

> > > and would sometimes

> > > > even hide it from her, because it made her angry! I got hit

> in

> > > the back of the head once by

> > > > a heavy wooden swing; hard enough to raise a lump. When I

> > > realized my head was

> > > > bleeding it scared me. When I ran to nada for help, she only

> > > began raging at me, " It's your

> > > > own damned fault, you idiot, why the hell did you go jump out

> of

> > > the damned swing in the

> > > > first place, etc.,etc. "

> > > >

> > > > Nada also pretty much left me alone for days (except for

> bringing

> > > in food and medicine)

> > > > when I had to be confined to a dark room when I had the

> measles; I

> > > think I went out of my

> > > > mind with boredom. After several days of confinement, I

> finally

> > > couldn't take it anymore

> > > > and snuck out of the sickroom into my own bedroom, to read a

> > > book. The light did hurt

> > > > my eyes, but it was so good to be able to read something,

> > > anything! Nada found me and

> > > > began screaming at me that I had ruined my eyes, and that if I

> > > went blind it would be my

> > > > own fault! I began crying hysterically, thinking that I was

> going

> > > to go blind at any

> > > > moment. I did wind up having to wear glasses by the third

> grade,

> > > but according to nada

> > > > this was because I had disobeyed her and ruined my eyes,

> myself,

> > > and not because both

> > > > sides of the family were/are very nearsighted.

> > > >

> > > > There were occasional glimpses that told us that the way nada

> > > treated us was overly harsh,

> > > > and not normal. One winter dad took us for an afternoon to a

> > > nearby golf course so Sister

> > > > and I could slide down the snowy hills on our toboggan and

> > > generally romp around freely.

> > > > For some reason, nada was not with us. After several hours of

> > > this we were growing tired

> > > > and cold, so dad walked us to a nearby friends' house. An

> older

> > > lady was there, someone

> > > > we didn't know (dad's friend's mother, I think) and she looked

> at

> > > Sister and me and said,

> > > > " Oh, you poor little things, you look half-frozen! Would you

> like

> > > some hot chocolate?

> > > > Come in here by the stove and warm up! " and she hugged us and

> > > helped us get our wet

> > > > outer clothes off. I was open-mouthed with shock. She wasn't

> > > yelling at us; weren't we

> > > > making a mess in her kitchen? She only seemed worried about

> us

> > > and was being really

> > > > kind to us. It felt so good, I think I cried a little.

> > > >

> > > > -Annie

> > > >

> > >

> >

>

>

>

[Guest guest]

Kyla, what you wrote here REALLY struck me:

" Another aspect of my mother's raging: She would stay up very late

and then sleep in when it was time for my brother and I to get ready

for school. We were in elementary school. I distinctly remember

that this happened when I was 10, 11 and 12, because I remember what

house we lived in at the time. So, that's 4th, 5th and 6th grade,

approximately. Far too young, in my opinion, to be left to get

myself and my 4 years younger brother ready for school in time to

catch the bus. And if she woke up during our morning routine, we

cringed -- looked at each other in fear, because she would get up

and screech at us at how we did everything wrong -- maybe left

cereal bowls out or whatever -- I just distinctly remember dreading

her getting up with us.

Isn't that sad? That our morning interactions with our own mother

weren't more nurturing? That she didn't send us out into the world

having been fed a hot breakfast and maybe having a few laughs

together? Maybe she could have showed us the life lesson of how

things can be organized and flow well, so that you can greet the day

with confidence and preparedness? Nah -- we did the best we could,

but with no guidance and plenty of criticism from her. "

We lived outside city limits, so mom had to drive us to school

everyday. I would get up early in the morning, as young as 8 years

old, and get the coffee pot started. While it brewed, I would brush

my teeth and wash my face. Then I would pour a cup of coffee for

NADA, and gingerly take it to her in her bedroom. She was always

asleep, and waking her up was so difficult. I would literally be

frightened every single morning because I felt guilty for having to

wake her up. Sometimes she would be really angry and bitch about

having to take us to school.Other times it would be easier, but I

remember holding that coffee cup and carefully taking it to her,

hoping not to spill it. I would make her toast too. Sometimes she

would complain about the coffee. I put too much creamer, or not

enough sugar, or whatever. So if I got the coffee right, i knew the

morning wouldn't be too bad.

It would take 2 or 3 more attempts to actually get her out of bed.

Sometimes my sister and I would be ready to go, still waiting for

her to wake up. Then she would wake up realizing she was late, and

blame me for not waking her up in time, when I've been trying all

morning.

I was 8-17 years old doing this morning ritual. My sister is 3 years

younger than me. NADA was lucky to have children that got up so

early on their own. She never had to do it.

Now, about once or twice a year mom would actually get up and make

us breakfast. She only did this when our schools did the CATS 9

testing. She would always brag about our test scores to everyone.

But growing up, this grotesque morning ritual was the norm. I never

thought of what mornings would be like if she was the one that got

up and made breakfast and made sure me and my sister were up and

ready for the day. It was always the other way around, and it was

normal.

interesting how our nada's were similar when it came to the morning

ritual.

~Sara Jo

> >

> > Our nada was so high-strung, nervous, perfectionistic, and

> irritable that any time my

> > Sister or I became ill or got hurt (I was a very active child

and

> would fall out of trees I had

> > climbed, or get thrown from my bike, etc.) we dreaded telling

nada

> and would sometimes

> > even hide it from her, because it made her angry! I got hit in

> the back of the head once by

> > a heavy wooden swing; hard enough to raise a lump. When I

> realized my head was

> > bleeding it scared me. When I ran to nada for help, she only

> began raging at me, " It's your

> > own damned fault, you idiot, why the hell did you go jump out of

> the damned swing in the

> > first place, etc.,etc. "

> >

> > Nada also pretty much left me alone for days (except for

bringing

> in food and medicine)

> > when I had to be confined to a dark room when I had the measles;

I

> think I went out of my

> > mind with boredom. After several days of confinement, I finally

> couldn't take it anymore

> > and snuck out of the sickroom into my own bedroom, to read a

> book. The light did hurt

> > my eyes, but it was so good to be able to read something,

> anything! Nada found me and

> > began screaming at me that I had ruined my eyes, and that if I

> went blind it would be my

> > own fault! I began crying hysterically, thinking that I was

going

> to go blind at any

> > moment. I did wind up having to wear glasses by the third

grade,

> but according to nada

> > this was because I had disobeyed her and ruined my eyes,

myself,

> and not because both

> > sides of the family were/are very nearsighted.

> >

> > There were occasional glimpses that told us that the way nada

> treated us was overly harsh,

> > and not normal. One winter dad took us for an afternoon to a

> nearby golf course so Sister

> > and I could slide down the snowy hills on our toboggan and

> generally romp around freely.

> > For some reason, nada was not with us. After several hours of

> this we were growing tired

> > and cold, so dad walked us to a nearby friends' house. An older

> lady was there, someone

> > we didn't know (dad's friend's mother, I think) and she looked

at

> Sister and me and said,

> > " Oh, you poor little things, you look half-frozen! Would you

like

> some hot chocolate?

> > Come in here by the stove and warm up! " and she hugged us and

> helped us get our wet

> > outer clothes off. I was open-mouthed with shock. She wasn't

> yelling at us; weren't we

> > making a mess in her kitchen? She only seemed worried about us

> and was being really

> > kind to us. It felt so good, I think I cried a little.

> >

> > -Annie

> >

>

[Guest guest]

Ditto, my nada never got out of bed before 2 p.m. unless it was for selfish

reasons, and became violent if you woke her. She never got her clothes on

before 6p.m. I was responsible to get myself to school in total silence from

about 1st grade. She made me go to afternoon kindergarten and preschool so

that she could sleep late. And she would try to keep me up late so I would

be a mess at school. It often worked. She frequently started violent rages

at 9 or 10 pm, right at my bedtime and kept stoking the fire of her anger

until late late late. I was just a little kid, I needed sleep.

> Kyla, what you wrote here REALLY struck me:

>

> " Another aspect of my mother's raging: She would stay up very late

> and then sleep in when it was time for my brother and I to get ready

> for school. We were in elementary school. I distinctly remember

> that this happened when I was 10, 11 and 12, because I remember what

> house we lived in at the time. So, that's 4th, 5th and 6th grade,

> approximately. Far too young, in my opinion, to be left to get

> myself and my 4 years younger brother ready for school in time to

> catch the bus. And if she woke up during our morning routine, we

> cringed -- looked at each other in fear, because she would get up

> and screech at us at how we did everything wrong -- maybe left

> cereal bowls out or whatever -- I just distinctly remember dreading

> her getting up with us.

>

> Isn't that sad? That our morning interactions with our own mother

> weren't more nurturing? That she didn't send us out into the world

> having been fed a hot breakfast and maybe having a few laughs

> together? Maybe she could have showed us the life lesson of how

> things can be organized and flow well, so that you can greet the day

> with confidence and preparedness? Nah -- we did the best we could,

> but with no guidance and plenty of criticism from her. "

>

> We lived outside city limits, so mom had to drive us to school

> everyday. I would get up early in the morning, as young as 8 years

> old, and get the coffee pot started. While it brewed, I would brush

> my teeth and wash my face. Then I would pour a cup of coffee for

> NADA, and gingerly take it to her in her bedroom. She was always

> asleep, and waking her up was so difficult. I would literally be

> frightened every single morning because I felt guilty for having to

> wake her up. Sometimes she would be really angry and bitch about

> having to take us to school.Other times it would be easier, but I

> remember holding that coffee cup and carefully taking it to her,

> hoping not to spill it. I would make her toast too. Sometimes she

> would complain about the coffee. I put too much creamer, or not

> enough sugar, or whatever. So if I got the coffee right, i knew the

> morning wouldn't be too bad.

> It would take 2 or 3 more attempts to actually get her out of bed.

> Sometimes my sister and I would be ready to go, still waiting for

> her to wake up. Then she would wake up realizing she was late, and

> blame me for not waking her up in time, when I've been trying all

> morning.

> I was 8-17 years old doing this morning ritual. My sister is 3 years

> younger than me. NADA was lucky to have children that got up so

> early on their own. She never had to do it.

> Now, about once or twice a year mom would actually get up and make

> us breakfast. She only did this when our schools did the CATS 9

> testing. She would always brag about our test scores to everyone.

> But growing up, this grotesque morning ritual was the norm. I never

> thought of what mornings would be like if she was the one that got

> up and made breakfast and made sure me and my sister were up and

> ready for the day. It was always the other way around, and it was

> normal.

> interesting how our nada's were similar when it came to the morning

> ritual.

> ~Sara Jo

>

>

> > >

> > > Our nada was so high-strung, nervous, perfectionistic, and

> > irritable that any time my

> > > Sister or I became ill or got hurt (I was a very active child

> and

> > would fall out of trees I had

> > > climbed, or get thrown from my bike, etc.) we dreaded telling

> nada

> > and would sometimes

> > > even hide it from her, because it made her angry! I got hit in

> > the back of the head once by

> > > a heavy wooden swing; hard enough to raise a lump. When I

> > realized my head was

> > > bleeding it scared me. When I ran to nada for help, she only

> > began raging at me, " It's your

> > > own damned fault, you idiot, why the hell did you go jump out of

> > the damned swing in the

> > > first place, etc.,etc. "

> > >

> > > Nada also pretty much left me alone for days (except for

> bringing

> > in food and medicine)

> > > when I had to be confined to a dark room when I had the measles;

> I

> > think I went out of my

> > > mind with boredom. After several days of confinement, I finally

> > couldn't take it anymore

> > > and snuck out of the sickroom into my own bedroom, to read a

> > book. The light did hurt

> > > my eyes, but it was so good to be able to read something,

> > anything! Nada found me and

> > > began screaming at me that I had ruined my eyes, and that if I

> > went blind it would be my

> > > own fault! I began crying hysterically, thinking that I was

> going

> > to go blind at any

> > > moment. I did wind up having to wear glasses by the third

> grade,

> > but according to nada

> > > this was because I had disobeyed her and ruined my eyes,

> myself,

> > and not because both

> > > sides of the family were/are very nearsighted.

> > >

> > > There were occasional glimpses that told us that the way nada

> > treated us was overly harsh,

> > > and not normal. One winter dad took us for an afternoon to a

> > nearby golf course so Sister

> > > and I could slide down the snowy hills on our toboggan and

> > generally romp around freely.

> > > For some reason, nada was not with us. After several hours of

> > this we were growing tired

> > > and cold, so dad walked us to a nearby friends' house. An older

> > lady was there, someone

> > > we didn't know (dad's friend's mother, I think) and she looked

> at

> > Sister and me and said,

> > > " Oh, you poor little things, you look half-frozen! Would you

> like

> > some hot chocolate?

> > > Come in here by the stove and warm up! " and she hugged us and

> > helped us get our wet

> > > outer clothes off. I was open-mouthed with shock. She wasn't

> > yelling at us; weren't we

> > > making a mess in her kitchen? She only seemed worried about us

> > and was being really

> > > kind to us. It felt so good, I think I cried a little.

> > >

> > > -Annie

> > >

> >

>

>

>

[Guest guest]

GirlScout, I always had to go to the bathroom when my mother was

taking a bath to wash her back. And then it would never be good.

She'd actually call someone else in because I was no good. Back rubs

aren't my thing. It makes me feel nauseous too, to receive them I

refuse, except from my husband. Don't give me a free massage as a

gift because I will pass on the gift to someone who can enjoy and who

does not have to think the whole time--what will happen behind my

back, when will I get slapped, when will the attack come. It was also

one of the inappropriate behaviors of my first counselor who ended up

raping me, and I felt, though not very consciously at the time, I was

young and unexperienced in all this, that this back rub was not just

a back rub. Nada in my back, out of sight, is something I try to

avoid till today. F.Ex on the escalator in shopping malls or

something. So the memories of abuse that come with back rubs are of

various sides really.

> > >

> > > Our nada was so high-strung, nervous, perfectionistic, and

> > irritable that any time my

> > > Sister or I became ill or got hurt (I was a very active child

and

> > would fall out of trees I had

> > > climbed, or get thrown from my bike, etc.) we dreaded telling

nada

> > and would sometimes

> > > even hide it from her, because it made her angry! I got hit in

> > the back of the head once by

> > > a heavy wooden swing; hard enough to raise a lump. When I

> > realized my head was

> > > bleeding it scared me. When I ran to nada for help, she only

> > began raging at me, " It's your

> > > own damned fault, you idiot, why the hell did you go jump out

of

> > the damned swing in the

> > > first place, etc.,etc. "

> > >

> > > Nada also pretty much left me alone for days (except for

bringing

> > in food and medicine)

> > > when I had to be confined to a dark room when I had the

measles; I

> > think I went out of my

> > > mind with boredom. After several days of confinement, I

finally

> > couldn't take it anymore

> > > and snuck out of the sickroom into my own bedroom, to read a

> > book. The light did hurt

> > > my eyes, but it was so good to be able to read something,

> > anything! Nada found me and

> > > began screaming at me that I had ruined my eyes, and that if I

> > went blind it would be my

> > > own fault! I began crying hysterically, thinking that I was

going

> > to go blind at any

> > > moment. I did wind up having to wear glasses by the third

grade,

> > but according to nada

> > > this was because I had disobeyed her and ruined my eyes,

myself,

> > and not because both

> > > sides of the family were/are very nearsighted.

> > >

> > > There were occasional glimpses that told us that the way nada

> > treated us was overly harsh,

> > > and not normal. One winter dad took us for an afternoon to a

> > nearby golf course so Sister

> > > and I could slide down the snowy hills on our toboggan and

> > generally romp around freely.

> > > For some reason, nada was not with us. After several hours of

> > this we were growing tired

> > > and cold, so dad walked us to a nearby friends' house. An

older

> > lady was there, someone

> > > we didn't know (dad's friend's mother, I think) and she looked

at

> > Sister and me and said,

> > > " Oh, you poor little things, you look half-frozen! Would you

like

> > some hot chocolate?

> > > Come in here by the stove and warm up! " and she hugged us and

> > helped us get our wet

> > > outer clothes off. I was open-mouthed with shock. She wasn't

> > yelling at us; weren't we

> > > making a mess in her kitchen? She only seemed worried about us

> > and was being really

> > > kind to us. It felt so good, I think I cried a little.

> > >

> > > -Annie

> > >

> >

>