Re: Emotionally damaged

[Guest guest]

Hummingbird,

I had the same experiences as you.

I was somehow allowed to think what I wanted when I was a kid...until I became a

17 year old.

Every decision, every passion, every like and dislike, big or small...was seen

as direct contrast to my mom. She took it personally that I liked different

things than her.

I agree with you about the being hard-wired differently. This has been my

observation with my mom. She is a nice person who had trauma as a kid. But I

took the brunt of it. My accomplishments were nothing to her...and I competed in

figure skating and won medals as an adult. I taught college english at a

university when i was 20. I was an accomplished artist. I sang and played guitar

in the same restaurant for 6 years. I devoted myself to charities.....I was and

still am a hard-worker.

But, she never saw any of it. Never told me I was doing a good job. She would

always yell at me " when are you going to find a good husband...you're running

out of time! " I was 20.

My mom has never seen me skate. She never heard me sing in public. She

threatened me to stop singing and skating. She wanted me to get married so I

could " have someone to take care of me " ....uh.....that was supposed to be HER

job description...I wasn't looking for a man to " take care of me. "

She will never realize the person I've always been...someone who always tries to

look on the bright side, someone who loves art, music and athletics...someone

who loves deeply and feel deeply and is very compassionate and empathetic.

It's been a long and lonely life for me...even though I found my great husband

and have 5 amazing kids.

It's was a shame to waste so much time on nonsense.

Amy

Emotionally damaged

I get asked the question sometimes, " How do you think you became the parent you

are when your mother and father were so awful at parenting? " And I always say,

" I don't know. I just do the opposite of what was done to me. " But I've been

thinking a lot about this lately since my kids are getting a little older and I

think it's more than just making a conscious choice to do things differently.

Maybe there is actually something hardwired wrong inside the BPD's brain that

they can't help (and maybe I am making excuses for my mother's behavior because

I don't want to think she would abuse me just for the fun of it). I parent on

instinct as well as making a conscious decision of what to do and not do, but it

seems like my mother never had that instinct. She was never able to separate me

from herself and comprehend that I might like a different color than she does or

a different food. On every basic level, even my opinions were made for me by

her.

Do you know that I never had a taco until I was 15 years old. And do you know

why? My mother told me I hated them because she hated them. And I believed

her. When I tried one and liked it, she started berating me and saying things

like " Who told you that they were good? Why do you want to eat that crap? " As

if I never had an opinion. Even if I had an opinion different from hers, she'd

want to know WHO put that opinion into my head...like I was not able to form

thoughts and opinions of my own. It wasn't just about tacos. It was

evvverything frorm what I ate to what I wore to what music I liked and on and

on.

When my kids accomplish something and say, get recognized at school, I beam from

ear to ear and feel so proud of THEM and I can acknowledge that THEY made the

effort and it was THEIR accomplishment. I can be proud of them and praise them

for their good work while separating myself from them and knowing it was about

THEM and their talent.

My mother would take credit for anything me or my sister did. Made

cheerleading? Oh, it's because the judges know who my mother is and they were

afraid not to put us on the team...as if she were so intimidating (she would say

that). Made good grades? Oh, it's because my mother was so smart and taught me

so well. These scenarios are endless in my childhood.

It scares me to think I came out of my childhood as well as I did. I mean, I

literally lived in hell as a child and thinking about it gives me cold chills

all over again. My therapist asked me to imagine my children in my childhood

and I can't...they would be emotionally scarred for life if they even spent 5

minutes in my childhood.

Well, I'm pretty sure I'm rambling at this point, but I wonder if anyone can

relate to these kinds of things.

[Guest guest]

Most definitely!  And one of the things I struggle with in therapy is that I

managed to be different by blocking out a lot of it.....and I have this

irrational fear that if I let it back in now, remember and deal with it, it will

somehow undo the ways I have managed to be different than my mom.  I also deal

with a significant amount of dissociation, which is HARD, yet I also think that

had a lot to do with me being able to NOT become what she was OR what she tried

to make me become.

Subject: Emotionally damaged

To: WTOAdultChildren1

Date: Friday, December 3, 2010, 6:12 AM

 

I get asked the question sometimes, " How do you think you became the parent you

are when your mother and father were so awful at parenting? " And I always say,

" I don't know. I just do the opposite of what was done to me. " But I've been

thinking a lot about this lately since my kids are getting a little older and I

think it's more than just making a conscious choice to do things differently.

Maybe there is actually something hardwired wrong inside the BPD's brain that

they can't help (and maybe I am making excuses for my mother's behavior because

I don't want to think she would abuse me just for the fun of it). I parent on

instinct as well as making a conscious decision of what to do and not do, but it

seems like my mother never had that instinct. She was never able to separate me

from herself and comprehend that I might like a different color than she does or

a different food. On every basic level, even my opinions were made for me by

her.

Do you know that I never had a taco until I was 15 years old. And do you know

why? My mother told me I hated them because she hated them. And I believed her.

When I tried one and liked it, she started berating me and saying things like

" Who told you that they were good? Why do you want to eat that crap? " As if I

never had an opinion. Even if I had an opinion different from hers, she'd want

to know WHO put that opinion into my head...like I was not able to form thoughts

and opinions of my own. It wasn't just about tacos. It was evvverything frorm

what I ate to what I wore to what music I liked and on and on.

When my kids accomplish something and say, get recognized at school, I beam from

ear to ear and feel so proud of THEM and I can acknowledge that THEY made the

effort and it was THEIR accomplishment. I can be proud of them and praise them

for their good work while separating myself from them and knowing it was about

THEM and their talent.

My mother would take credit for anything me or my sister did. Made cheerleading?

Oh, it's because the judges know who my mother is and they were afraid not to

put us on the team...as if she were so intimidating (she would say that). Made

good grades? Oh, it's because my mother was so smart and taught me so well.

These scenarios are endless in my childhood.

It scares me to think I came out of my childhood as well as I did. I mean, I

literally lived in hell as a child and thinking about it gives me cold chills

all over again. My therapist asked me to imagine my children in my childhood and

I can't...they would be emotionally scarred for life if they even spent 5

minutes in my childhood.

Well, I'm pretty sure I'm rambling at this point, but I wonder if anyone can

relate to these kinds of things.

[Guest guest]

I recently got asked the same question. It's not like I sit around and talk

about my nada to people. They don't get it. But somehow it came up, self esteem

and all that and I shared just a couple things about my life and where I'm at

with self esteem.

But then I was asked the same question about being the type of parent I am. I'm

with you: we know what feels horrible and we don't want to repeat it. Yes, I

found myself getting all wound up, angry and crazy about the dumbest things when

my kids were little. The day I ranted at my toddler because he stepped into the

kitchen while I was mopping, I knew I was being like my nada. I hated myself at

that moment. There were many moments like that where I caught myself being a

bitch. I don't know how many nights I cried and wanted to be dead because of my

anger. The guilt was eating me alive.

But in spite of my screw ups, all 3 of my kids have grown into amazing adults,

responsible, caring and giving. They even seem to love me in spite of my

stupidity at times. It was hard work to be different from what I had as a child.

But I was determined that each of my kids would know love, feel loved no matter

what and know that I'd always be there for them, day or night.

>

>

>

> I get asked the question sometimes, " How do you think you became the parent

you are when your mother and father were so awful at parenting? " And I always

say, " I don't know. I just do the opposite of what was done to me. "

[Guest guest]

With BPD nadas it is all about THEM and we are just an extension of them. We

aren't human - we aren't a separate entity - we have no right to our own

beliefs, likes or dislikes or choices earlier in life. As we grow into adults,

we are STILL seen as an extension of them and still not human, separate

individuals.

When I was a child, my nada chose everything for me and I had no say. I wasn't

allowed to even pick a FRIEND for myself and nada picked someone who was 4 years

older than me who was very much like her. I had no life. I had no friends

except the one BPD brat in the making and once a year I was allowed to invite my

classmates over for a birthday party. It was the one time a YEAR that I felt

like a normal kid and nada to this day calls me a 'party girl' because I 'always

wanted a birthday party every year from the time you were 5'. Of course I

looked forward to that so much because it was the only time I felt like a part

of a group and of course nada made sure it was only the children of the richer

parents in town who were invited even then.

Nadas are so warped! I don't have to tell any of you that on here.

My nada told me the other day " I have to TEACH you how to be just like me before

I go and that means you are never to express your feelings to ANY of your

so-called friends; you are never to voice your beliefs if they are different

than theirs. You are to agree with them and go along with whatever they say and

whatever they want you to do. If they abuse you, you are accept it and never

get angry or stand up for yourself. That way you will get along with everybody

like I do for the rest of your life " . Huh?! Nada NEVER did anything BUT voice

her beliefs - express her feelings - get angry - stand up not only FOR herself

but against anyone who went against her (except for the outside world of course

when she was trying to impress someone with how sweet she was) but that was only

for self-fulfilling reasons and behind their back she did as she pleased. It

was always all about her and it still is. The ONLY way I get along with her on

the surface during our now daily phone calls is if I make it all about her and

that's it.

You are healthy. Your nada is BPD and very mentally ill.

You are a good parent. Your nada was a bad parent. No comparison! But of

course we are taught to believe we are very deficient and incapable of making

good decisions. We are trained well.

You are proud of your kids and your nada was incapable of being proud.

Of course she took all the credit if you did anything well or won something. My

nada did that too. I remember when I was making ceramics my nada went down to

the ceramic studio without my knowledge and bought several pieces of greenware

for ME to clean and paint for her for Christmas gifts one year. I painted them

all and SHE gave them to relatives and friends of hers and told them SHE made

painted them! I didn't care in one respect but in another I was miffed when

these people told me afterward that my nada was 'such a talented artist' and

'painted such beautiful faces'. My nada didn't have an artistic bone in her

body.

[Guest guest]

yes, i can relate.. i also deal with a lot of dissociation as a way of coping

and sometimes it can get in the way of my relating to others now.. it did serve

me well in the past tho, as a way of being 'cut off' from the damage my nada

would try to inflict.. as a way of asserting my independence in one of the only

ways i knew how, to simply separate myself from her if only in my mind at the

time.  later when i was able to separate in my location from her and later

still when i went lc and nc with her i began to become aware of how this coping

skill that served me so well in the past has become a problem in trying to

communicate with people who are good to me.. and so the struggle goes on.. it's

a lot of hard work, but worth it!  to have a happy life is the best revenge i

know.blessings and may we all heal,ann

Subject: Emotionally damaged

To: WTOAdultChildren1

Date: Friday, December 3, 2010, 6:12 AM

 

I get asked the question sometimes, " How do you think you became the parent you

are when your mother and father were so awful at parenting? " And I always say,

" I don't know. I just do the opposite of what was done to me. " But I've been

thinking a lot about this lately since my kids are getting a little older and I

think it's more than just making a conscious choice to do things differently.

Maybe there is actually something hardwired wrong inside the BPD's brain that

they can't help (and maybe I am making excuses for my mother's behavior because

I don't want to think she would abuse me just for the fun of it). I parent on

instinct as well as making a conscious decision of what to do and not do, but it

seems like my mother never had that instinct. She was never able to separate me

from herself and comprehend that I might like a different color than she does or

a different food. On every basic level, even my opinions were made for me by

her.

Do you know that I never had a taco until I was 15 years old. And do you know

why? My mother told me I hated them because she hated them. And I believed her.

When I tried one and liked it, she started berating me and saying things like

" Who told you that they were good? Why do you want to eat that crap? " As if I

never had an opinion. Even if I had an opinion different from hers, she'd want

to know WHO put that opinion into my head...like I was not able to form thoughts

and opinions of my own. It wasn't just about tacos. It was evvverything frorm

what I ate to what I wore to what music I liked and on and on.

When my kids accomplish something and say, get recognized at school, I beam from

ear to ear and feel so proud of THEM and I can acknowledge that THEY made the

effort and it was THEIR accomplishment. I can be proud of them and praise them

for their good work while separating myself from them and knowing it was about

THEM and their talent.

My mother would take credit for anything me or my sister did. Made cheerleading?

Oh, it's because the judges know who my mother is and they were afraid not to

put us on the team...as if she were so intimidating (she would say that). Made

good grades? Oh, it's because my mother was so smart and taught me so well.

These scenarios are endless in my childhood.

It scares me to think I came out of my childhood as well as I did. I mean, I

literally lived in hell as a child and thinking about it gives me cold chills

all over again. My therapist asked me to imagine my children in my childhood and

I can't...they would be emotionally scarred for life if they even spent 5

minutes in my childhood.

Well, I'm pretty sure I'm rambling at this point, but I wonder if anyone can

relate to these kinds of things.

[Guest guest]

Hi, I am new here. My first post has not been approved and posted yet but I am

reading this thread with interest.

Forgive my lack of knowledge of this whole thing, but I notice many of you

mention dissociating with your parents. Would that explain why I have always

been unable to have any sympathy for my mom in any situation? She can burst into

tears in a dramatic retelling of an event and I find myself staring blankly at

her and forcing myself to utter some sort of sympathetic words " I'm sorry to

hear that " while in the back of my mind, I am fighting the impulse to leave the

room?

Does that make sense?

She recently went on some mission trips to a foreign country with her church and

I was completely unable to be excited, happy, or interested in anything about

her trip. (Partly because she is now saying she wants to move there, but that is

another drama).

I'm an RN, not a psych doctor. So some of this is new terminology to me. The

good news is, I am 31 years old and discovering that I am not, after all, a

cold, hearted witch just the product of a mom (and dad) who truly have a mental

illness.

________________________________

To: WTOAdultChildren1

Sent: Sat, December 4, 2010 8:29:58 AM

Subject: Re: Emotionally damaged

yes, i can relate.. i also deal with a lot of dissociation as a way of coping

and sometimes it can get in the way of my relating to others now.. it did serve

me well in the past tho, as a way of being 'cut off' from the damage my nada

would try to inflict.. as a way of asserting my independence in one of the only

ways i knew how, to simply separate myself from her if only in my mind at the

time. later when i was able to separate in my location from her and later still

when i went lc and nc with her i began to become aware of how this coping skill

that served me so well in the past has become a problem in trying to communicate

with people who are good to me.. and so the struggle goes on.. it's a lot of

hard work, but worth it! to have a happy life is the best revenge i

know.blessings and may we all heal,ann

Subject: Emotionally damaged

To: WTOAdultChildren1

Date: Friday, December 3, 2010, 6:12 AM

I get asked the question sometimes, " How do you think you became the parent you

are when your mother and father were so awful at parenting? " And I always say,

" I don't know. I just do the opposite of what was done to me. " But I've been

thinking a lot about this lately since my kids are getting a little older and I

think it's more than just making a conscious choice to do things differently.

Maybe there is actually something hardwired wrong inside the BPD's brain that

they can't help (and maybe I am making excuses for my mother's behavior because

I don't want to think she would abuse me just for the fun of it). I parent on

instinct as well as making a conscious decision of what to do and not do, but it

seems like my mother never had that instinct. She was never able to separate me

from herself and comprehend that I might like a different color than she does or

a different food. On every basic level, even my opinions were made for me by

her.

Do you know that I never had a taco until I was 15 years old. And do you know

why? My mother told me I hated them because she hated them. And I believed her.

When I tried one and liked it, she started berating me and saying things like

" Who told you that they were good? Why do you want to eat that crap? " As if I

never had an opinion. Even if I had an opinion different from hers, she'd want

to know WHO put that opinion into my head...like I was not able to form thoughts

and opinions of my own. It wasn't just about tacos. It was evvverything frorm

what I ate to what I wore to what music I liked and on and on.

When my kids accomplish something and say, get recognized at school, I beam from

ear to ear and feel so proud of THEM and I can acknowledge that THEY made the

effort and it was THEIR accomplishment. I can be proud of them and praise them

for their good work while separating myself from them and knowing it was about

THEM and their talent.

My mother would take credit for anything me or my sister did. Made cheerleading?

Oh, it's because the judges know who my mother is and they were afraid not to

put us on the team...as if she were so intimidating (she would say that). Made

good grades? Oh, it's because my mother was so smart and taught me so well.

These scenarios are endless in my childhood.

It scares me to think I came out of my childhood as well as I did. I mean, I

literally lived in hell as a child and thinking about it gives me cold chills

all over again. My therapist asked me to imagine my children in my childhood and

I can't...they would be emotionally scarred for life if they even spent 5

minutes in my childhood.

Well, I'm pretty sure I'm rambling at this point, but I wonder if anyone can

relate to these kinds of things.

[Guest guest]

Good points, Hummingbird.

I too have wondered this about BPDs: Have they no choice? Or am I just making

excuses? I struggle with these dilemmas every day, because I actually don't

think my mother did weird things by choice. She actually meant well. She was

trying to protect me. But....

So, because SHE always said horrible things about herself -- " I'm ugly, fat and

disgusting " -- the fact that I also walked around saying horrible things about

myself (those very same things) seemed perfectly normal to her and to my dad.

Because SHE was obsessively afraid of gaining weight, I too was expected to be

(and thus became) obsessively afraid of gaining weight. " We " disliked drinking

fluids with meals. " We " hated cats.

If I expressed some unapproved feeling, she felt betrayed and demanded to know

who had influenced me. For instance, I had a friend named when I was ten.

Mom kept calling certain things I did " -isms. "