Re: the visit

[Guest guest]

I know those feelings, too. I've feel the same way when I know I'm going to

have to see my parents again. Others here have said they've been diagnosed with

PTSD. I think what I experience is something similar. We trained ourselves to

deal with the trauma by using the only coping skills we knew: hypervigilance,

anxiety, etc. Abuse is traumatic, and it creates strong memories. When I hear

my mother's voice, or see her face, or think about my childhood home, I remember

all the feelings I had of being trapped there, of being made to believe I was a

bad person, and those memories are still painful. Most days, I don't think

about them anymore. But trying to prepare myself to be around them again still

makes me tense and anxious, even after lots of work re-training my thoughts.

I try to take extra time for myself when those times come around, doing

something I really enjoy, something peaceful, talking with my husband or with

good friends who understand. I know that my responses are conditioned. I know

that I feel that way because I know my parents are still not safe people. I

think it's worth considering whether it's really worth it to have contact with

them at all.

Do you have someone you trust that you can talk through the pros and cons of

making this visit back home? Is there any reason you absolutely have to go?

What would it be like to just stay home, and not go?

KT

>

> Later this month, I will be making my annual visit to BPD mom and the

childhood home. This is always hard. It will be especially hard this time

because she is in a particularly bad state mentally and physically.

>

> No matter how much I tell myself I can handle it this time, no matter how much

I tell myself that all my hard work has paid off and now I'm mature enough,

recovered enough, and have become a person with an actual identity, no matter

how much I know that my great husband will be there to help ... no matter how

much I believe these things, when the date actually draws nearer I start to feel

(a) a sick gnawing in my gut that just goes on and on and ( crazy again.

>

> Suddenly the fleas are all back: the hypochondria, the fears, the

self-recriminations, the loss of identity, the pointless gloom, the dread, the

obsession with death -- the things that tormented me half a lifetime ago, in my

twenties, when I'd first left home and first realized that my family was weird.

These crazinesses all swamped me when I first tried to escape them and grow up

-- and for a long time the crazinesses won.

>

> As I'm sure many of you know from experience, realizing at age 22 that my

family had nearly killed my soul did not lead to an instant " cure. " In fact, it

led to years of craziness, because the very act of becoming aware betrayed the

brainwash and the brainwash would not let " me " win.

>

> I spent years in therapy, years thinking and talking about these issues, years

in recovery, years years years.

>

> Now it's suddenly like, whoops, I feel defenseless, infested with fleas I

thought I'd killed.

>

[Guest guest]

justicecamp,

i feel the same, except my parents visit frequently half the year while they are

up north.

all our hard work...it's very fragile, isn't it?

i know other people suffer from all kinds of ailments, all kinds of emotional

problems.

but the one thing i realize is diffrent about our situations is that I find that

other people get natural support from family and friends for their ailments.

People who are physically, terminally sick (and I thank G-d I'm not sick) have

the support of family, usually. They are cheered on with support and a shoulder

to cry on. We don't get that. We get isolation. We get a cold shoulder. We get

bullied until we question and blame ourselves for the exact thing we are

grieving for.

I find it so unfair...but then again, I'm learning that life is just not fair in

certain respects.

Amy

the visit

Later this month, I will be making my annual visit to BPD mom and the childhood

home. This is always hard. It will be especially hard this time because she is

in a particularly bad state mentally and physically.

No matter how much I tell myself I can handle it this time, no matter how much I

tell myself that all my hard work has paid off and now I'm mature enough,

recovered enough, and have become a person with an actual identity, no matter

how much I know that my great husband will be there to help ... no matter how

much I believe these things, when the date actually draws nearer I start to feel

(a) a sick gnawing in my gut that just goes on and on and ( crazy again.

Suddenly the fleas are all back: the hypochondria, the fears, the

self-recriminations, the loss of identity, the pointless gloom, the dread, the

obsession with death -- the things that tormented me half a lifetime ago, in my

twenties, when I'd first left home and first realized that my family was weird.

These crazinesses all swamped me when I first tried to escape them and grow up

-- and for a long time the crazinesses won.

As I'm sure many of you know from experience, realizing at age 22 that my family

had nearly killed my soul did not lead to an instant " cure. " In fact, it led to

years of craziness, because the very act of becoming aware betrayed the

brainwash and the brainwash would not let " me " win.

I spent years in therapy, years thinking and talking about these issues, years

in recovery, years years years.

Now it's suddenly like, whoops, I feel defenseless, infested with fleas I

thought I'd killed.

[Guest guest]

justicecamp,

i feel the same, except my parents visit frequently half the year while they are

up north.

all our hard work...it's very fragile, isn't it?

i know other people suffer from all kinds of ailments, all kinds of emotional

problems.

but the one thing i realize is diffrent about our situations is that I find that

other people get natural support from family and friends for their ailments.

People who are physically, terminally sick (and I thank G-d I'm not sick) have

the support of family, usually. They are cheered on with support and a shoulder

to cry on. We don't get that. We get isolation. We get a cold shoulder. We get

bullied until we question and blame ourselves for the exact thing we are

grieving for.

I find it so unfair...but then again, I'm learning that life is just not fair in

certain respects.

Amy

the visit

Later this month, I will be making my annual visit to BPD mom and the childhood

home. This is always hard. It will be especially hard this time because she is

in a particularly bad state mentally and physically.

No matter how much I tell myself I can handle it this time, no matter how much I

tell myself that all my hard work has paid off and now I'm mature enough,

recovered enough, and have become a person with an actual identity, no matter

how much I know that my great husband will be there to help ... no matter how

much I believe these things, when the date actually draws nearer I start to feel

(a) a sick gnawing in my gut that just goes on and on and ( crazy again.

Suddenly the fleas are all back: the hypochondria, the fears, the

self-recriminations, the loss of identity, the pointless gloom, the dread, the

obsession with death -- the things that tormented me half a lifetime ago, in my

twenties, when I'd first left home and first realized that my family was weird.

These crazinesses all swamped me when I first tried to escape them and grow up

-- and for a long time the crazinesses won.

As I'm sure many of you know from experience, realizing at age 22 that my family

had nearly killed my soul did not lead to an instant " cure. " In fact, it led to

years of craziness, because the very act of becoming aware betrayed the

brainwash and the brainwash would not let " me " win.

I spent years in therapy, years thinking and talking about these issues, years

in recovery, years years years.

Now it's suddenly like, whoops, I feel defenseless, infested with fleas I

thought I'd killed.

[Guest guest]

Thanks, guys --

(I cringe when writing that phrase, because although I know that you know that

by " guys " I mean " friendly folks of any and all genders, " one day when I was

about eleven my dad flew into a screaming purple rage because I had addressed

some nice park rangers as " you guys. " I said, " Thanks, you guys " after they

answered my question. Dad and I got back into the car. And I thought he was

going to kill me. No one understands that story when I recount it these days.

What was he upset about? Well ... addressing adult professionals in an overly

casual manner. That's what.)

So anyway ... exactly. Thanks for your support and suggestions. It might be a

kind of PTSD, built up drip by drip over eighteen years (way back when) of being

unable to escape the yelling, the name-calling, the humiliation, alternating

confusingly with the generosity, the nice meals, the professions of love, the

shopping trips. Then back to the yelling and humiliation. For an only child,

it's a crucible, because you're the only target.

I actually do have to make the visit, can't ditch this one, but will have great

Mister Husband along, which makes all the difference.

A funny, flea-infested thing about visiting there: Whenever I take time off

during visits to BPD mom, whenever I go for solitary walks or (miracle of

miracles) go with Mister Husband or a local acquaintance to one of the gorgeous

nearby nature areas, I feel wildly elated, almost high, because the contrast is

so sharp. In this place, Mom is glowering and crying and clinging and saying

that everything is ugly and horrible and sucks. In this exact same place, the

sky is bright blue and warm and the palm trees are golden and people are

smiling. I grew up there and it is perfect and beautiful and traumatic and

horrifying.

[Guest guest]

Thanks, guys --

(I cringe when writing that phrase, because although I know that you know that

by " guys " I mean " friendly folks of any and all genders, " one day when I was

about eleven my dad flew into a screaming purple rage because I had addressed

some nice park rangers as " you guys. " I said, " Thanks, you guys " after they

answered my question. Dad and I got back into the car. And I thought he was

going to kill me. No one understands that story when I recount it these days.

What was he upset about? Well ... addressing adult professionals in an overly

casual manner. That's what.)

So anyway ... exactly. Thanks for your support and suggestions. It might be a

kind of PTSD, built up drip by drip over eighteen years (way back when) of being

unable to escape the yelling, the name-calling, the humiliation, alternating

confusingly with the generosity, the nice meals, the professions of love, the

shopping trips. Then back to the yelling and humiliation. For an only child,

it's a crucible, because you're the only target.

I actually do have to make the visit, can't ditch this one, but will have great

Mister Husband along, which makes all the difference.

A funny, flea-infested thing about visiting there: Whenever I take time off

during visits to BPD mom, whenever I go for solitary walks or (miracle of

miracles) go with Mister Husband or a local acquaintance to one of the gorgeous

nearby nature areas, I feel wildly elated, almost high, because the contrast is

so sharp. In this place, Mom is glowering and crying and clinging and saying

that everything is ugly and horrible and sucks. In this exact same place, the

sky is bright blue and warm and the palm trees are golden and people are

smiling. I grew up there and it is perfect and beautiful and traumatic and

horrifying.

[Guest guest]

Maybe you are still in contact with your old therapist, and he or she can give

you some pointers for getting through this upcoming visit.

I know exactly what you mean RE the anxiety and dread. I dread any contact with

my nada now, particularly face to face contact.

The only way I was able to handle the forced visit this last summer was to sort

of, in a way, partly dissociate. I decided that I was going to in effect " play

a role " during the visit (as though it was a stage play) and my " character "

could handle being around my nada. So, in a way, I allowed myself to become

insane for three days; I wasn't me... exactly.

It seemed to work OK. Just below the surface, though, was my anger. I think I

find my anger empowering; it makes me feel safe, and I'd rather feel safe than

frightened or sad or guilty.

I have a feeling that my way of dealing with that visit was not particularly

mentally healthy, but it got me through those three days with an outer

appearance of calm imperturbability and grace.

Maybe your therapist has some better ideas for getting you through a short visit

that aren't as, erm, " schizy " as mine.

-Annie

>

> Later this month, I will be making my annual visit to BPD mom and the

childhood home. This is always hard. It will be especially hard this time

because she is in a particularly bad state mentally and physically.

>

> No matter how much I tell myself I can handle it this time, no matter how much

I tell myself that all my hard work has paid off and now I'm mature enough,

recovered enough, and have become a person with an actual identity, no matter

how much I know that my great husband will be there to help ... no matter how

much I believe these things, when the date actually draws nearer I start to feel

(a) a sick gnawing in my gut that just goes on and on and ( crazy again.

>

> Suddenly the fleas are all back: the hypochondria, the fears, the

self-recriminations, the loss of identity, the pointless gloom, the dread, the

obsession with death -- the things that tormented me half a lifetime ago, in my

twenties, when I'd first left home and first realized that my family was weird.

These crazinesses all swamped me when I first tried to escape them and grow up

-- and for a long time the crazinesses won.

>

> As I'm sure many of you know from experience, realizing at age 22 that my

family had nearly killed my soul did not lead to an instant " cure. " In fact, it

led to years of craziness, because the very act of becoming aware betrayed the

brainwash and the brainwash would not let " me " win.

>

> I spent years in therapy, years thinking and talking about these issues, years

in recovery, years years years.

>

> Now it's suddenly like, whoops, I feel defenseless, infested with fleas I

thought I'd killed.

>

[Guest guest]

Maybe you are still in contact with your old therapist, and he or she can give

you some pointers for getting through this upcoming visit.

I know exactly what you mean RE the anxiety and dread. I dread any contact with

my nada now, particularly face to face contact.

The only way I was able to handle the forced visit this last summer was to sort

of, in a way, partly dissociate. I decided that I was going to in effect " play

a role " during the visit (as though it was a stage play) and my " character "

could handle being around my nada. So, in a way, I allowed myself to become

insane for three days; I wasn't me... exactly.

It seemed to work OK. Just below the surface, though, was my anger. I think I

find my anger empowering; it makes me feel safe, and I'd rather feel safe than

frightened or sad or guilty.

I have a feeling that my way of dealing with that visit was not particularly

mentally healthy, but it got me through those three days with an outer

appearance of calm imperturbability and grace.

Maybe your therapist has some better ideas for getting you through a short visit

that aren't as, erm, " schizy " as mine.

-Annie

>

> Later this month, I will be making my annual visit to BPD mom and the

childhood home. This is always hard. It will be especially hard this time

because she is in a particularly bad state mentally and physically.

>

> No matter how much I tell myself I can handle it this time, no matter how much

I tell myself that all my hard work has paid off and now I'm mature enough,

recovered enough, and have become a person with an actual identity, no matter

how much I know that my great husband will be there to help ... no matter how

much I believe these things, when the date actually draws nearer I start to feel

(a) a sick gnawing in my gut that just goes on and on and ( crazy again.

>

> Suddenly the fleas are all back: the hypochondria, the fears, the

self-recriminations, the loss of identity, the pointless gloom, the dread, the

obsession with death -- the things that tormented me half a lifetime ago, in my

twenties, when I'd first left home and first realized that my family was weird.

These crazinesses all swamped me when I first tried to escape them and grow up

-- and for a long time the crazinesses won.

>

> As I'm sure many of you know from experience, realizing at age 22 that my

family had nearly killed my soul did not lead to an instant " cure. " In fact, it

led to years of craziness, because the very act of becoming aware betrayed the

brainwash and the brainwash would not let " me " win.

>

> I spent years in therapy, years thinking and talking about these issues, years

in recovery, years years years.

>

> Now it's suddenly like, whoops, I feel defenseless, infested with fleas I

thought I'd killed.

>

[Guest guest]

Justice,

I felt suffocated just reading your email.

I would be going through the same thing. I feel the same cloud right around end

of October, as the holidays start rearing their ugly head.

I hope your trip is short. We'll be here for you when you get back.

>

> Later this month, I will be making my annual visit to BPD mom and the

childhood home. This is always hard. It will be especially hard this time

because she is in a particularly bad state mentally and physically.

>

> No matter how much I tell myself I can handle it this time, no matter how much

I tell myself that all my hard work has paid off and now I'm mature enough,

recovered enough, and have become a person with an actual identity, no matter

how much I know that my great husband will be there to help ... no matter how

much I believe these things, when the date actually draws nearer I start to feel

(a) a sick gnawing in my gut that just goes on and on and ( crazy again.

>

> Suddenly the fleas are all back: the hypochondria, the fears, the

self-recriminations, the loss of identity, the pointless gloom, the dread, the

obsession with death -- the things that tormented me half a lifetime ago, in my

twenties, when I'd first left home and first realized that my family was weird.

These crazinesses all swamped me when I first tried to escape them and grow up

-- and for a long time the crazinesses won.

>

> As I'm sure many of you know from experience, realizing at age 22 that my

family had nearly killed my soul did not lead to an instant " cure. " In fact, it

led to years of craziness, because the very act of becoming aware betrayed the

brainwash and the brainwash would not let " me " win.

>

> I spent years in therapy, years thinking and talking about these issues, years

in recovery, years years years.

>

> Now it's suddenly like, whoops, I feel defenseless, infested with fleas I

thought I'd killed.

>

[Guest guest]

>

> How horrible...I can relate to everything you ve written. I also got

validation at about 21, while away at college, that my family was seriously

sicko, not just a little dysfunctional. I then set up some serious boundaries

and moved 8 hours away so that she couldnt meddle in my life. In effect, I had

to alienate myself, in order to be healthier.

I remember always feeling like I d been drugged when I went to my parents home.

I would feel kind of foggy and overwhelmed and pessimistic. I would dread the

drive, especially as my feelings contrasted with the happy holiday, family love

messages I heard on the radio en route.

Sometimes I would bring a book with me, and escape into that as much as I could.

My advice is to expect the worst, and dont be alone with nada, if you can help

it. And make it short.

It is truly a horrible feeling to have this looming ahead.

Joanna

>

[Guest guest]

Much sympathy Justicecamp. I myself am staring daring the barrel of five solid

days with my FOO for Christmas. It is one of the hardest things that I do. I

notice I can hold my current identity for about two days before there's slippage

and a lot of the childhood stuff comes rushing back. A phone call you can hang

up from in the safety of your own home is one thing. Being there physically in

the same space for hours, no phone to hang up, home thousands of miles away is

something else. I usually bring some things from home that have great meaning

to me that help me remember who I am today and my home that I am returning to.

You've got an actual *person* to be that for you, your husband. So let him

remind you of your home, your friends, your life that shortly you'll be back in.

A few years ago I made the change of staying in a hotel and even though it's

expensive it is worth every penny. Knowing I've got a guaranteed reprieve every

night to get my head back on straight makes all the difference.

Good luck,

>

> Later this month, I will be making my annual visit to BPD mom and the

childhood home. This is always hard. It will be especially hard this time

because she is in a particularly bad state mentally and physically.

>

> No matter how much I tell myself I can handle it this time, no matter how much

I tell myself that all my hard work has paid off and now I'm mature enough,

recovered enough, and have become a person with an actual identity, no matter

how much I know that my great husband will be there to help ... no matter how

much I believe these things, when the date actually draws nearer I start to feel

(a) a sick gnawing in my gut that just goes on and on and ( crazy again.

>

> Suddenly the fleas are all back: the hypochondria, the fears, the

self-recriminations, the loss of identity, the pointless gloom, the dread, the

obsession with death -- the things that tormented me half a lifetime ago, in my

twenties, when I'd first left home and first realized that my family was weird.

These crazinesses all swamped me when I first tried to escape them and grow up

-- and for a long time the crazinesses won.

>

> As I'm sure many of you know from experience, realizing at age 22 that my

family had nearly killed my soul did not lead to an instant " cure. " In fact, it

led to years of craziness, because the very act of becoming aware betrayed the

brainwash and the brainwash would not let " me " win.

>

> I spent years in therapy, years thinking and talking about these issues, years

in recovery, years years years.

>

> Now it's suddenly like, whoops, I feel defenseless, infested with fleas I

thought I'd killed.

>

[Guest guest]

It's a shame we can't edit our posts...I meant to say I am staring *down* the

barrel of five solid days of family visit. But maybe it was a Freudian slip

because I am *daring* them too, I am daring them to f*** with me, because I'll

have the number of a local taxi service in my phone, and I'll leave in a

heartbeat if needed. Just the attitude one should have for a lovely family get

together, eh?

> >

> > Later this month, I will be making my annual visit to BPD mom and the

childhood home. This is always hard. It will be especially hard this time

because she is in a particularly bad state mentally and physically.

> >

> > No matter how much I tell myself I can handle it this time, no matter how

much I tell myself that all my hard work has paid off and now I'm mature enough,

recovered enough, and have become a person with an actual identity, no matter

how much I know that my great husband will be there to help ... no matter how

much I believe these things, when the date actually draws nearer I start to feel

(a) a sick gnawing in my gut that just goes on and on and ( crazy again.

> >

> > Suddenly the fleas are all back: the hypochondria, the fears, the

self-recriminations, the loss of identity, the pointless gloom, the dread, the

obsession with death -- the things that tormented me half a lifetime ago, in my

twenties, when I'd first left home and first realized that my family was weird.

These crazinesses all swamped me when I first tried to escape them and grow up

-- and for a long time the crazinesses won.

> >

> > As I'm sure many of you know from experience, realizing at age 22 that my

family had nearly killed my soul did not lead to an instant " cure. " In fact, it

led to years of craziness, because the very act of becoming aware betrayed the

brainwash and the brainwash would not let " me " win.

> >

> > I spent years in therapy, years thinking and talking about these issues,

years in recovery, years years years.

> >

> > Now it's suddenly like, whoops, I feel defenseless, infested with fleas I

thought I'd killed.

> >

>

[Guest guest]

Thanks again for all your advice and support! It's amazing to read that other

people have such similar feelings about trips home ... and it's amazing that a

lot of lucky people out there, who don't have BPD parents, don't feel sick at

all when headed home!! Sure, they might have issues with a sibling or an in-law.

But they don't feel soul-sucked, or drugged (which describes my situation

perfectly -- catatonic and paralyzed and lost). They do not lose their

identities!!!!

Going " home " for the holidays is rough for many KOs because this is what happens

-- we feel our identities slipping away. We thought we could keep ahold of them

this time, but argh, there they go. We look in the mirrors in our childhood

homes and our faces look familiar, but a lot of us lose contact with ourselves.

In my case the old crazy guilt comes up for ever having moved away. We're

talking about over thirty years ago. We're talking about choosing to have a life

over eternal craziness. And yet....

This visit will be harder than most in the past, for various reasons. But

lessons I've learned on this board will help.

[Guest guest]

The lost identity thing really hits home with me. After all these years,

it's hard to believe, but nada and fada have no clue who I am, nor do they

care. I'm still supposed to be just an extension of them; feel the way

they do, have the same opinions, laugh at their jokes, and above all, don't

express any feelings of my own, or you've set yourself up for criticism.

Holidays suck at their house. There's not one pleasant moment, not one. It's

all about them, their feelings, their woes, their wants, their

needs.....................I have literally said stuff like " well, yesterday, I

cut my

left finger off, spent the day in the hospital...... " and got no

acknowledgement at all from either one of them.......they just continued talking

about themselves....

Laurie

In a message dated 12/7/2010 11:05:47 A.M. Eastern Standard Time,

anneli@... writes:

Thanks again for all your advice and support! It's amazing to read that

other people have such similar feelings about trips home ... and it's amazing

that a lot of lucky people out there, who don't have BPD parents, don't

feel sick at all when headed home!! Sure, they might have issues with a

sibling or an in-law. But they don't feel soul-sucked, or drugged (which

describes my situation perfectly -- catatonic and paralyzed and lost). They do

not

lose their identities!!!!

Going " home " for the holidays is rough for many KOs because this is what

happens -- we feel our identities slipping away. We thought we could keep

ahold of them this time, but argh, there they go. We look in the mirrors in

our childhood homes and our faces look familiar, but a lot of us lose

contact with ourselves. In my case the old crazy guilt comes up for ever having

moved away. We're talking about over thirty years ago. We're talking about

choosing to have a life over eternal craziness. And yet....

This visit will be harder than most in the past, for various reasons. But

lessons I've learned on this board will help.

[Guest guest]

Laurie, I've tried little things not quite so bold as you to see if they were

listening too...they really aren't. I keep things in my pocket and special

jewelry too to remind me over and over - this is who I am now, this is where I

live now, this is where I return shortly...it's crazy to even need reminders of

that but it helps me.

There's something about having more than one person at the same time deny your

existence that's very powerful and mind fogging. Especially when it goes back

to the same scenario in childhood.

For the record WE ALL EXIST!!!!!

>

> The lost identity thing really hits home with me. After all these years,

> it's hard to believe, but nada and fada have no clue who I am, nor do they

> care. I'm still supposed to be just an extension of them; feel the way

> they do, have the same opinions, laugh at their jokes, and above all, don't

> express any feelings of my own, or you've set yourself up for criticism.

> Holidays suck at their house. There's not one pleasant moment, not one.

It's

> all about them, their feelings, their woes, their wants, their

> needs.....................I have literally said stuff like " well, yesterday, I

cut my

> left finger off, spent the day in the hospital...... " and got no

> acknowledgement at all from either one of them.......they just continued

talking

> about themselves....

> Laurie

>

[Guest guest]

Laurie, I've tried little things not quite so bold as you to see if they were

listening too...they really aren't. I keep things in my pocket and special

jewelry too to remind me over and over - this is who I am now, this is where I

live now, this is where I return shortly...it's crazy to even need reminders of

that but it helps me.

There's something about having more than one person at the same time deny your

existence that's very powerful and mind fogging. Especially when it goes back

to the same scenario in childhood.

For the record WE ALL EXIST!!!!!

>

> The lost identity thing really hits home with me. After all these years,

> it's hard to believe, but nada and fada have no clue who I am, nor do they

> care. I'm still supposed to be just an extension of them; feel the way

> they do, have the same opinions, laugh at their jokes, and above all, don't

> express any feelings of my own, or you've set yourself up for criticism.

> Holidays suck at their house. There's not one pleasant moment, not one.

It's

> all about them, their feelings, their woes, their wants, their

> needs.....................I have literally said stuff like " well, yesterday, I

cut my

> left finger off, spent the day in the hospital...... " and got no

> acknowledgement at all from either one of them.......they just continued

talking

> about themselves....

> Laurie

>

[Guest guest]

Laurie, I've tried little things not quite so bold as you to see if they were

listening too...they really aren't. I keep things in my pocket and special

jewelry too to remind me over and over - this is who I am now, this is where I

live now, this is where I return shortly...it's crazy to even need reminders of

that but it helps me.

There's something about having more than one person at the same time deny your

existence that's very powerful and mind fogging. Especially when it goes back

to the same scenario in childhood.

For the record WE ALL EXIST!!!!!

>

> The lost identity thing really hits home with me. After all these years,

> it's hard to believe, but nada and fada have no clue who I am, nor do they

> care. I'm still supposed to be just an extension of them; feel the way

> they do, have the same opinions, laugh at their jokes, and above all, don't

> express any feelings of my own, or you've set yourself up for criticism.

> Holidays suck at their house. There's not one pleasant moment, not one.

It's

> all about them, their feelings, their woes, their wants, their

> needs.....................I have literally said stuff like " well, yesterday, I

cut my

> left finger off, spent the day in the hospital...... " and got no

> acknowledgement at all from either one of them.......they just continued

talking

> about themselves....

> Laurie

>

[Guest guest]

Exactly. Back before I went virtually No Contact with my nada, visiting her

would sometimes catapult my psyche back in time, and I'd suddenly find myself

feeling and reacting as though I was about 8 years old again, and nada has all

the power. Sort of like a combat veteran reacting to a loud noise with a sudden

flashback into a traumatic combat memory, sometimes just being around my nada,

something she would say or do would trigger some sad or unwanted memory from

childhood. I think that for me, this type of thing will have to be worked

through in therapy.

-Annie

>

> Laurie, I've tried little things not quite so bold as you to see if they were

listening too...they really aren't. I keep things in my pocket and special

jewelry too to remind me over and over - this is who I am now, this is where I

live now, this is where I return shortly...it's crazy to even need reminders of

that but it helps me.

>

> There's something about having more than one person at the same time deny your

existence that's very powerful and mind fogging. Especially when it goes back

to the same scenario in childhood.

>

> For the record WE ALL EXIST!!!!!

>

>

[Guest guest]

Exactly. Back before I went virtually No Contact with my nada, visiting her

would sometimes catapult my psyche back in time, and I'd suddenly find myself

feeling and reacting as though I was about 8 years old again, and nada has all

the power. Sort of like a combat veteran reacting to a loud noise with a sudden

flashback into a traumatic combat memory, sometimes just being around my nada,

something she would say or do would trigger some sad or unwanted memory from

childhood. I think that for me, this type of thing will have to be worked

through in therapy.

-Annie

>

> Laurie, I've tried little things not quite so bold as you to see if they were

listening too...they really aren't. I keep things in my pocket and special

jewelry too to remind me over and over - this is who I am now, this is where I

live now, this is where I return shortly...it's crazy to even need reminders of

that but it helps me.

>

> There's something about having more than one person at the same time deny your

existence that's very powerful and mind fogging. Especially when it goes back

to the same scenario in childhood.

>

> For the record WE ALL EXIST!!!!!

>

>

[Guest guest]

BWAHAHAHA!! It shouldn't be funny but I have done the SAME THING! I will sit

there and say something totally off the wall and my mom will be staring at my

blankly and the minute I take a breath she goes into her next monologue about

herself. I don't even tell her anything about my life anymore.

I have had several pregnancy losses. The last loss I had, when I told her I was

pregnant, I was several weeks along and she was mad because she said " I should

be the first one to know right after you!!! " . I just said " Sorry " . I wasn't even

going to open the can of worms and say it was my choice to tell whom I wanted

when I wanted. Oh well.

________________________________

To: WTOAdultChildren1

Sent: Tue, December 7, 2010 7:33:15 PM

Subject: Re: Re: the visit

The lost identity thing really hits home with me. After all these years,

it's hard to believe, but nada and fada have no clue who I am, nor do they

care. I'm still supposed to be just an extension of them; feel the way

they do, have the same opinions, laugh at their jokes, and above all, don't

express any feelings of my own, or you've set yourself up for criticism.

Holidays suck at their house. There's not one pleasant moment, not one. It's

all about them, their feelings, their woes, their wants, their

needs.....................I have literally said stuff like " well, yesterday, I

cut my

left finger off, spent the day in the hospital...... " and got no

acknowledgement at all from either one of them.......they just continued talking

about themselves....

Laurie

In a message dated 12/7/2010 11:05:47 A.M. Eastern Standard Time,

anneli@... writes:

Thanks again for all your advice and support! It's amazing to read that

other people have such similar feelings about trips home ... and it's amazing

that a lot of lucky people out there, who don't have BPD parents, don't

feel sick at all when headed home!! Sure, they might have issues with a

sibling or an in-law. But they don't feel soul-sucked, or drugged (which

describes my situation perfectly -- catatonic and paralyzed and lost). They do

not

lose their identities!!!!

Going " home " for the holidays is rough for many KOs because this is what

happens -- we feel our identities slipping away. We thought we could keep

ahold of them this time, but argh, there they go. We look in the mirrors in

our childhood homes and our faces look familiar, but a lot of us lose

contact with ourselves. In my case the old crazy guilt comes up for ever having

moved away. We're talking about over thirty years ago. We're talking about

choosing to have a life over eternal craziness. And yet....

This visit will be harder than most in the past, for various reasons. But

lessons I've learned on this board will help.

[Guest guest]

BWAHAHAHA!! It shouldn't be funny but I have done the SAME THING! I will sit

there and say something totally off the wall and my mom will be staring at my

blankly and the minute I take a breath she goes into her next monologue about

herself. I don't even tell her anything about my life anymore.

I have had several pregnancy losses. The last loss I had, when I told her I was

pregnant, I was several weeks along and she was mad because she said " I should

be the first one to know right after you!!! " . I just said " Sorry " . I wasn't even

going to open the can of worms and say it was my choice to tell whom I wanted

when I wanted. Oh well.

________________________________

To: WTOAdultChildren1

Sent: Tue, December 7, 2010 7:33:15 PM

Subject: Re: Re: the visit

The lost identity thing really hits home with me. After all these years,

it's hard to believe, but nada and fada have no clue who I am, nor do they

care. I'm still supposed to be just an extension of them; feel the way

they do, have the same opinions, laugh at their jokes, and above all, don't

express any feelings of my own, or you've set yourself up for criticism.

Holidays suck at their house. There's not one pleasant moment, not one. It's

all about them, their feelings, their woes, their wants, their

needs.....................I have literally said stuff like " well, yesterday, I

cut my

left finger off, spent the day in the hospital...... " and got no

acknowledgement at all from either one of them.......they just continued talking

about themselves....

Laurie

In a message dated 12/7/2010 11:05:47 A.M. Eastern Standard Time,

anneli@... writes:

Thanks again for all your advice and support! It's amazing to read that

other people have such similar feelings about trips home ... and it's amazing

that a lot of lucky people out there, who don't have BPD parents, don't

feel sick at all when headed home!! Sure, they might have issues with a

sibling or an in-law. But they don't feel soul-sucked, or drugged (which

describes my situation perfectly -- catatonic and paralyzed and lost). They do

not

lose their identities!!!!

Going " home " for the holidays is rough for many KOs because this is what

happens -- we feel our identities slipping away. We thought we could keep

ahold of them this time, but argh, there they go. We look in the mirrors in

our childhood homes and our faces look familiar, but a lot of us lose

contact with ourselves. In my case the old crazy guilt comes up for ever having

moved away. We're talking about over thirty years ago. We're talking about

choosing to have a life over eternal craziness. And yet....

This visit will be harder than most in the past, for various reasons. But

lessons I've learned on this board will help.

[Guest guest]

I hear ya about cutting your finger off, one of the factors that lead up to

my NC was this phone conversation with my nada:

me: " I wanted to tell you I spent yesterday in the hospital with a horrible

migraine, I was there for 7 hours and had to have a huge dose of morphine.

I've been there several times over the last 3 months. "

nada: " When are you going to give me a grandchild?!?!?!?!?!!!! "

Conversation ends. I don't talk to her again for several months. Next

conversation:

Nada: " I think I know why you have been mad at me. "

Me: " oh? "

Nada: " Its because I always loved your brotherSSS (one died at birth) more

than I ever loved you. "

Me: Silence

And you can see, this was one of the conversations that brought us to where

we are now - no relationship at all for nearly a decade, and very very very

little chance that we will ever speak again.

>

>

> BWAHAHAHA!! It shouldn't be funny but I have done the SAME THING! I will

> sit

> there and say something totally off the wall and my mom will be staring at

> my

> blankly and the minute I take a breath she goes into her next monologue

> about

> herself. I don't even tell her anything about my life anymore.

>

> I have had several pregnancy losses. The last loss I had, when I told her I

> was

> pregnant, I was several weeks along and she was mad because she said " I

> should

> be the first one to know right after you!!! " . I just said " Sorry " . I wasn't

> even

> going to open the can of worms and say it was my choice to tell whom I

> wanted

> when I wanted. Oh well.

>

> ________________________________

> From: " Kotchteddy@... <Kotchteddy%40aol.com> "

<Kotchteddy@...<Kotchteddy%40aol.com>

> >

> To: WTOAdultChildren1 <WTOAdultChildren1%40yahoogroups.com>

> Sent: Tue, December 7, 2010 7:33:15 PM

> Subject: Re: Re: the visit

>

>

> The lost identity thing really hits home with me. After all these years,

> it's hard to believe, but nada and fada have no clue who I am, nor do they

> care. I'm still supposed to be just an extension of them; feel the way

> they do, have the same opinions, laugh at their jokes, and above all, don't

>

> express any feelings of my own, or you've set yourself up for criticism.

> Holidays suck at their house. There's not one pleasant moment, not one.

> It's

> all about them, their feelings, their woes, their wants, their

> needs.....................I have literally said stuff like " well,

> yesterday, I

> cut my

>

> left finger off, spent the day in the hospital...... " and got no

> acknowledgement at all from either one of them.......they just continued

> talking

>

> about themselves....

> Laurie

>

> In a message dated 12/7/2010 11:05:47 A.M. Eastern Standard Time,

> anneli@... <anneli%40annelirufus.com> writes:

>

> Thanks again for all your advice and support! It's amazing to read that

> other people have such similar feelings about trips home ... and it's

> amazing

> that a lot of lucky people out there, who don't have BPD parents, don't

> feel sick at all when headed home!! Sure, they might have issues with a

> sibling or an in-law. But they don't feel soul-sucked, or drugged (which

> describes my situation perfectly -- catatonic and paralyzed and lost). They

> do

> not

>

> lose their identities!!!!

>

> Going " home " for the holidays is rough for many KOs because this is what

> happens -- we feel our identities slipping away. We thought we could keep

> ahold of them this time, but argh, there they go. We look in the mirrors in

>

> our childhood homes and our faces look familiar, but a lot of us lose

> contact with ourselves. In my case the old crazy guilt comes up for ever

> having

>

> moved away. We're talking about over thirty years ago. We're talking about

> choosing to have a life over eternal craziness. And yet....

>

> This visit will be harder than most in the past, for various reasons. But

> lessons I've learned on this board will help.

>

>

[Guest guest]

I hear ya about cutting your finger off, one of the factors that lead up to

my NC was this phone conversation with my nada:

me: " I wanted to tell you I spent yesterday in the hospital with a horrible

migraine, I was there for 7 hours and had to have a huge dose of morphine.

I've been there several times over the last 3 months. "

nada: " When are you going to give me a grandchild?!?!?!?!?!!!! "

Conversation ends. I don't talk to her again for several months. Next

conversation:

Nada: " I think I know why you have been mad at me. "

Me: " oh? "

Nada: " Its because I always loved your brotherSSS (one died at birth) more

than I ever loved you. "

Me: Silence

And you can see, this was one of the conversations that brought us to where

we are now - no relationship at all for nearly a decade, and very very very

little chance that we will ever speak again.

>

>

> BWAHAHAHA!! It shouldn't be funny but I have done the SAME THING! I will

> sit

> there and say something totally off the wall and my mom will be staring at

> my

> blankly and the minute I take a breath she goes into her next monologue

> about

> herself. I don't even tell her anything about my life anymore.

>

> I have had several pregnancy losses. The last loss I had, when I told her I

> was

> pregnant, I was several weeks along and she was mad because she said " I

> should

> be the first one to know right after you!!! " . I just said " Sorry " . I wasn't

> even

> going to open the can of worms and say it was my choice to tell whom I

> wanted

> when I wanted. Oh well.

>

> ________________________________

> From: " Kotchteddy@... <Kotchteddy%40aol.com> "

<Kotchteddy@...<Kotchteddy%40aol.com>

> >

> To: WTOAdultChildren1 <WTOAdultChildren1%40yahoogroups.com>

> Sent: Tue, December 7, 2010 7:33:15 PM

> Subject: Re: Re: the visit

>

>

> The lost identity thing really hits home with me. After all these years,

> it's hard to believe, but nada and fada have no clue who I am, nor do they

> care. I'm still supposed to be just an extension of them; feel the way

> they do, have the same opinions, laugh at their jokes, and above all, don't

>

> express any feelings of my own, or you've set yourself up for criticism.

> Holidays suck at their house. There's not one pleasant moment, not one.

> It's

> all about them, their feelings, their woes, their wants, their

> needs.....................I have literally said stuff like " well,

> yesterday, I

> cut my

>

> left finger off, spent the day in the hospital...... " and got no

> acknowledgement at all from either one of them.......they just continued

> talking

>

> about themselves....

> Laurie

>

> In a message dated 12/7/2010 11:05:47 A.M. Eastern Standard Time,

> anneli@... <anneli%40annelirufus.com> writes:

>

> Thanks again for all your advice and support! It's amazing to read that

> other people have such similar feelings about trips home ... and it's

> amazing

> that a lot of lucky people out there, who don't have BPD parents, don't

> feel sick at all when headed home!! Sure, they might have issues with a

> sibling or an in-law. But they don't feel soul-sucked, or drugged (which

> describes my situation perfectly -- catatonic and paralyzed and lost). They

> do

> not

>

> lose their identities!!!!

>

> Going " home " for the holidays is rough for many KOs because this is what

> happens -- we feel our identities slipping away. We thought we could keep

> ahold of them this time, but argh, there they go. We look in the mirrors in

>

> our childhood homes and our faces look familiar, but a lot of us lose

> contact with ourselves. In my case the old crazy guilt comes up for ever

> having

>

> moved away. We're talking about over thirty years ago. We're talking about

> choosing to have a life over eternal craziness. And yet....

>

> This visit will be harder than most in the past, for various reasons. But

> lessons I've learned on this board will help.

>

>

[Guest guest]

girlscout...I'm so sorry you had to hear these hurtful words from someone who

was supposed to say nicer things to you and mean them.

Re: Re: the visit

>

>

> The lost identity thing really hits home with me. After all these years,

> it's hard to believe, but nada and fada have no clue who I am, nor do they

> care. I'm still supposed to be just an extension of them; feel the way

> they do, have the same opinions, laugh at their jokes, and above all, don't

>

> express any feelings of my own, or you've set yourself up for criticism.

> Holidays suck at their house. There's not one pleasant moment, not one.

> It's

> all about them, their feelings, their woes, their wants, their

> needs.....................I have literally said stuff like " well,

> yesterday, I

> cut my

>

> left finger off, spent the day in the hospital...... " and got no

> acknowledgement at all from either one of them.......they just continued

> talking

>

> about themselves....

> Laurie

>

> In a message dated 12/7/2010 11:05:47 A.M. Eastern Standard Time,

> anneli@... <anneli%40annelirufus.com> writes:

>

> Thanks again for all your advice and support! It's amazing to read that

> other people have such similar feelings about trips home ... and it's

> amazing

> that a lot of lucky people out there, who don't have BPD parents, don't

> feel sick at all when headed home!! Sure, they might have issues with a

> sibling or an in-law. But they don't feel soul-sucked, or drugged (which

> describes my situation perfectly -- catatonic and paralyzed and lost). They

> do

> not

>

> lose their identities!!!!

>

> Going " home " for the holidays is rough for many KOs because this is what

> happens -- we feel our identities slipping away. We thought we could keep

> ahold of them this time, but argh, there they go. We look in the mirrors in

>

> our childhood homes and our faces look familiar, but a lot of us lose

> contact with ourselves. In my case the old crazy guilt comes up for ever

> having

>

> moved away. We're talking about over thirty years ago. We're talking about

> choosing to have a life over eternal craziness. And yet....

>

> This visit will be harder than most in the past, for various reasons. But

> lessons I've learned on this board will help.

>

>

[Guest guest]

girlscout...I'm so sorry you had to hear these hurtful words from someone who

was supposed to say nicer things to you and mean them.

Re: Re: the visit

>

>

> The lost identity thing really hits home with me. After all these years,

> it's hard to believe, but nada and fada have no clue who I am, nor do they

> care. I'm still supposed to be just an extension of them; feel the way

> they do, have the same opinions, laugh at their jokes, and above all, don't

>

> express any feelings of my own, or you've set yourself up for criticism.

> Holidays suck at their house. There's not one pleasant moment, not one.

> It's

> all about them, their feelings, their woes, their wants, their

> needs.....................I have literally said stuff like " well,

> yesterday, I

> cut my

>

> left finger off, spent the day in the hospital...... " and got no

> acknowledgement at all from either one of them.......they just continued

> talking

>

> about themselves....

> Laurie

>

> In a message dated 12/7/2010 11:05:47 A.M. Eastern Standard Time,

> anneli@... <anneli%40annelirufus.com> writes:

>

> Thanks again for all your advice and support! It's amazing to read that

> other people have such similar feelings about trips home ... and it's

> amazing

> that a lot of lucky people out there, who don't have BPD parents, don't

> feel sick at all when headed home!! Sure, they might have issues with a

> sibling or an in-law. But they don't feel soul-sucked, or drugged (which

> describes my situation perfectly -- catatonic and paralyzed and lost). They

> do

> not

>

> lose their identities!!!!

>

> Going " home " for the holidays is rough for many KOs because this is what

> happens -- we feel our identities slipping away. We thought we could keep

> ahold of them this time, but argh, there they go. We look in the mirrors in

>

> our childhood homes and our faces look familiar, but a lot of us lose

> contact with ourselves. In my case the old crazy guilt comes up for ever

> having

>

> moved away. We're talking about over thirty years ago. We're talking about

> choosing to have a life over eternal craziness. And yet....

>

> This visit will be harder than most in the past, for various reasons. But

> lessons I've learned on this board will help.

>

>

[Guest guest]

GSC,

You gotta learn NOT to play the game, girl!

Nada: When are you going to give me grandchildren?

You: As soon as you give me a mother. So anyway, I think my migraines

are caused by being a freaking KO!

Nada: I think I know why you have always been mad at me.

You: I m not going to discuss my feelings with you. So how bout them

Steelers?

Do.

NOT.

Play.

Her.

Games.

You will lose, she will hurt you. An interesting game Professor

Falken. The only winning move is not to play.

Doug