Guest guest Posted December 27, 2010 Report Share Posted December 27, 2010 Your fairy-tale analogy resonates with me, Karla. I felt like a half-orphan myself half the time when I was growing up; my own mother rather often treated me very much as though she resented having to take care of me (like I was an unwanted step-child she'd been saddled with.) The crazy-making part of my situation is that my nada could also switch over into The Good Mother persona and behave in thoughtful loving ways, sometimes, as though I was the darling of her heart. It was like being raised by a female Dr Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and never being sure which one I'd encounter at any given moment. I grew up a very nervous, anxious, jittery child who startled easily and tried to blend into the wallpaper as much as possible. Not surprisingly I wound up completely trauma-bonded with nada. -Annie > > My nada was the embodiment of the wicked stepmother we read about in fairy tales. Completely unrelated to the wonderful, real-life stepmothers that are everywhere in our world, nada actually was the wicked caricature that came from a writer's imagination . . . only much, much worse. > > Even in fiction, it was like the author couldn't write such cruelty without removing the witch from the heroine's bloodline. It's tough to believe someone could be biologically related AND so destructive towards a child. > > So today I was trying to reconcile the fact that nada is the wicked outsider in my life with the fact that she gave birth to me and I look just like her. > > Here's what I came up with: > > I raised myself. I've always had to be my own mother. I'm also the wonderful, kind, adoptive mother that provides safety, sanity, and kindness to the heroine (me as well, thank you very much). > > That makes nada, by default, the wicked stepmother. Unwelcomed, far removed, and cast out of the heroine's life. Sheer justice in that. > > Thanks, all. > > Blessings, > Karla > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted December 27, 2010 Report Share Posted December 27, 2010 Your fairy-tale analogy resonates with me, Karla. I felt like a half-orphan myself half the time when I was growing up; my own mother rather often treated me very much as though she resented having to take care of me (like I was an unwanted step-child she'd been saddled with.) The crazy-making part of my situation is that my nada could also switch over into The Good Mother persona and behave in thoughtful loving ways, sometimes, as though I was the darling of her heart. It was like being raised by a female Dr Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and never being sure which one I'd encounter at any given moment. I grew up a very nervous, anxious, jittery child who startled easily and tried to blend into the wallpaper as much as possible. Not surprisingly I wound up completely trauma-bonded with nada. -Annie > > My nada was the embodiment of the wicked stepmother we read about in fairy tales. Completely unrelated to the wonderful, real-life stepmothers that are everywhere in our world, nada actually was the wicked caricature that came from a writer's imagination . . . only much, much worse. > > Even in fiction, it was like the author couldn't write such cruelty without removing the witch from the heroine's bloodline. It's tough to believe someone could be biologically related AND so destructive towards a child. > > So today I was trying to reconcile the fact that nada is the wicked outsider in my life with the fact that she gave birth to me and I look just like her. > > Here's what I came up with: > > I raised myself. I've always had to be my own mother. I'm also the wonderful, kind, adoptive mother that provides safety, sanity, and kindness to the heroine (me as well, thank you very much). > > That makes nada, by default, the wicked stepmother. Unwelcomed, far removed, and cast out of the heroine's life. Sheer justice in that. > > Thanks, all. > > Blessings, > Karla > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted December 27, 2010 Report Share Posted December 27, 2010 Your fairy-tale analogy resonates with me, Karla. I felt like a half-orphan myself half the time when I was growing up; my own mother rather often treated me very much as though she resented having to take care of me (like I was an unwanted step-child she'd been saddled with.) The crazy-making part of my situation is that my nada could also switch over into The Good Mother persona and behave in thoughtful loving ways, sometimes, as though I was the darling of her heart. It was like being raised by a female Dr Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and never being sure which one I'd encounter at any given moment. I grew up a very nervous, anxious, jittery child who startled easily and tried to blend into the wallpaper as much as possible. Not surprisingly I wound up completely trauma-bonded with nada. -Annie > > My nada was the embodiment of the wicked stepmother we read about in fairy tales. Completely unrelated to the wonderful, real-life stepmothers that are everywhere in our world, nada actually was the wicked caricature that came from a writer's imagination . . . only much, much worse. > > Even in fiction, it was like the author couldn't write such cruelty without removing the witch from the heroine's bloodline. It's tough to believe someone could be biologically related AND so destructive towards a child. > > So today I was trying to reconcile the fact that nada is the wicked outsider in my life with the fact that she gave birth to me and I look just like her. > > Here's what I came up with: > > I raised myself. I've always had to be my own mother. I'm also the wonderful, kind, adoptive mother that provides safety, sanity, and kindness to the heroine (me as well, thank you very much). > > That makes nada, by default, the wicked stepmother. Unwelcomed, far removed, and cast out of the heroine's life. Sheer justice in that. > > Thanks, all. > > Blessings, > Karla > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted December 27, 2010 Report Share Posted December 27, 2010 Amen, Annie! That was exactly how it was for me, too. That's what I was trying to articulate--she was often the " good " mother, but very sinister and subtle in her wicked treatment of me. I was both the all bad child and the all good child, in randomly alternating seasons. Exact opposite of the wallflower, I coped by being perfect and charming and the capable soother of all chaos. I just realized today that I learned to take as many emotional beatings as she could dish out and still hold on to a standard of perfection when it came to mediating and " kindness " to her. i.e., making all of her insane abuse okay and soothing HER feelings for it. Ack. In all ways, I held myself to a high level of achievement no matter how much abuse I sustained. I learned to disconnect the two, somehow. That was one of the things I decided for myself today--that I would no longer hold myself to any standard of perfection if I was taking a beating of any form. From now on, I don't want to ever absorb abuse and just go on. It was my strongest coping skill, so no wonder it's lingered. Have you read " The Betrayal Bonds " by Carnes? Wow, did that resonate with me!! Thanks for getting it-- Blessings, Karla > > > > My nada was the embodiment of the wicked stepmother we read about in fairy tales. Completely unrelated to the wonderful, real-life stepmothers that are everywhere in our world, nada actually was the wicked caricature that came from a writer's imagination . . . only much, much worse. > > > > Even in fiction, it was like the author couldn't write such cruelty without removing the witch from the heroine's bloodline. It's tough to believe someone could be biologically related AND so destructive towards a child. > > > > So today I was trying to reconcile the fact that nada is the wicked outsider in my life with the fact that she gave birth to me and I look just like her. > > > > Here's what I came up with: > > > > I raised myself. I've always had to be my own mother. I'm also the wonderful, kind, adoptive mother that provides safety, sanity, and kindness to the heroine (me as well, thank you very much). > > > > That makes nada, by default, the wicked stepmother. Unwelcomed, far removed, and cast out of the heroine's life. Sheer justice in that. > > > > Thanks, all. > > > > Blessings, > > Karla > > > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted December 27, 2010 Report Share Posted December 27, 2010 Amen, Annie! That was exactly how it was for me, too. That's what I was trying to articulate--she was often the " good " mother, but very sinister and subtle in her wicked treatment of me. I was both the all bad child and the all good child, in randomly alternating seasons. Exact opposite of the wallflower, I coped by being perfect and charming and the capable soother of all chaos. I just realized today that I learned to take as many emotional beatings as she could dish out and still hold on to a standard of perfection when it came to mediating and " kindness " to her. i.e., making all of her insane abuse okay and soothing HER feelings for it. Ack. In all ways, I held myself to a high level of achievement no matter how much abuse I sustained. I learned to disconnect the two, somehow. That was one of the things I decided for myself today--that I would no longer hold myself to any standard of perfection if I was taking a beating of any form. From now on, I don't want to ever absorb abuse and just go on. It was my strongest coping skill, so no wonder it's lingered. Have you read " The Betrayal Bonds " by Carnes? Wow, did that resonate with me!! Thanks for getting it-- Blessings, Karla > > > > My nada was the embodiment of the wicked stepmother we read about in fairy tales. Completely unrelated to the wonderful, real-life stepmothers that are everywhere in our world, nada actually was the wicked caricature that came from a writer's imagination . . . only much, much worse. > > > > Even in fiction, it was like the author couldn't write such cruelty without removing the witch from the heroine's bloodline. It's tough to believe someone could be biologically related AND so destructive towards a child. > > > > So today I was trying to reconcile the fact that nada is the wicked outsider in my life with the fact that she gave birth to me and I look just like her. > > > > Here's what I came up with: > > > > I raised myself. I've always had to be my own mother. I'm also the wonderful, kind, adoptive mother that provides safety, sanity, and kindness to the heroine (me as well, thank you very much). > > > > That makes nada, by default, the wicked stepmother. Unwelcomed, far removed, and cast out of the heroine's life. Sheer justice in that. > > > > Thanks, all. > > > > Blessings, > > Karla > > > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted December 27, 2010 Report Share Posted December 27, 2010 Amen, Annie! That was exactly how it was for me, too. That's what I was trying to articulate--she was often the " good " mother, but very sinister and subtle in her wicked treatment of me. I was both the all bad child and the all good child, in randomly alternating seasons. Exact opposite of the wallflower, I coped by being perfect and charming and the capable soother of all chaos. I just realized today that I learned to take as many emotional beatings as she could dish out and still hold on to a standard of perfection when it came to mediating and " kindness " to her. i.e., making all of her insane abuse okay and soothing HER feelings for it. Ack. In all ways, I held myself to a high level of achievement no matter how much abuse I sustained. I learned to disconnect the two, somehow. That was one of the things I decided for myself today--that I would no longer hold myself to any standard of perfection if I was taking a beating of any form. From now on, I don't want to ever absorb abuse and just go on. It was my strongest coping skill, so no wonder it's lingered. Have you read " The Betrayal Bonds " by Carnes? Wow, did that resonate with me!! Thanks for getting it-- Blessings, Karla > > > > My nada was the embodiment of the wicked stepmother we read about in fairy tales. Completely unrelated to the wonderful, real-life stepmothers that are everywhere in our world, nada actually was the wicked caricature that came from a writer's imagination . . . only much, much worse. > > > > Even in fiction, it was like the author couldn't write such cruelty without removing the witch from the heroine's bloodline. It's tough to believe someone could be biologically related AND so destructive towards a child. > > > > So today I was trying to reconcile the fact that nada is the wicked outsider in my life with the fact that she gave birth to me and I look just like her. > > > > Here's what I came up with: > > > > I raised myself. I've always had to be my own mother. I'm also the wonderful, kind, adoptive mother that provides safety, sanity, and kindness to the heroine (me as well, thank you very much). > > > > That makes nada, by default, the wicked stepmother. Unwelcomed, far removed, and cast out of the heroine's life. Sheer justice in that. > > > > Thanks, all. > > > > Blessings, > > Karla > > > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted December 28, 2010 Report Share Posted December 28, 2010 Hi Karla, No, I haven't read that one yet but will add it to my list. Thanks for the rec! There is a growing list of books RE trauma bonding, codependency, and mental illness that I'd like to read. Yes, it sounds like your method of coping was to become as perfect as possible so as to not ever trigger an abusive episode from your nada, or minimize her abuse as much as possible. As we both discovered, nothing worked. The abuse happened anyway, because the abuse had nothing, literally NOTHING to do with us at all. Instead, the abusive behaviors of our mothers had only to do with the fact that they were/are severely mentally ill and way too dysfunctional to have been raising a child in the first place. The tragedy is that our mothers were just functional enough to skate under the radar and seem " normal " and good enough in public, so that only we, the kids, were targeted for abusive behaviors. I think both the public and the psychiatric community is sadly oblivious or perhaps just uncaring that an individual can seem normal and functional to the outside world and yet exclusively target their spouse and children for abuse. I think that the Cluster B pd individuals in this world mostly go unrecognized and untreated, and the damage they do is vastly underestimated. -Annie > > Amen, Annie! That was exactly how it was for me, too. > > That's what I was trying to articulate--she was often the " good " mother, but very sinister and subtle in her wicked treatment of me. I was both the all bad child and the all good child, in randomly alternating seasons. Exact opposite of the wallflower, I coped by being perfect and charming and the capable soother of all chaos. I just realized today that I learned to take as many emotional beatings as she could dish out and still hold on to a standard of perfection when it came to mediating and " kindness " to her. i.e., making all of her insane abuse okay and soothing HER feelings for it. Ack. In all ways, I held myself to a high level of achievement no matter how much abuse I sustained. I learned to disconnect the two, somehow. > > That was one of the things I decided for myself today--that I would no longer hold myself to any standard of perfection if I was taking a beating of any form. From now on, I don't want to ever absorb abuse and just go on. It was my strongest coping skill, so no wonder it's lingered. > > Have you read " The Betrayal Bonds " by Carnes? Wow, did that resonate with me!! > > Thanks for getting it-- > Blessings, > Karla Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted December 28, 2010 Report Share Posted December 28, 2010 So true. I'm not sure I was " perfect " as I was . . . wait a minute. That's not true. I had to be ALL of these things: -perfect -capable administrator (they started to look to me for responsible decisions for the entire family when I was 5) -de-facto leader -whipping girl -black sheep -all bad girl So . . . I was the big screw-up that everyone hated and ganged up on to bully (this was my home, not the elem. school playground). I never did anything right. AND, I was simultaneously the entire household's parent, leader, and responsible voice. Quite a trick that, no? Which sure sheds some light on how my perspective is skewed. Dang. Thanks for letting me talk that out!! Blessings-- Karla > > > > Amen, Annie! That was exactly how it was for me, too. > > > > That's what I was trying to articulate--she was often the " good " mother, but very sinister and subtle in her wicked treatment of me. I was both the all bad child and the all good child, in randomly alternating seasons. Exact opposite of the wallflower, I coped by being perfect and charming and the capable soother of all chaos. I just realized today that I learned to take as many emotional beatings as she could dish out and still hold on to a standard of perfection when it came to mediating and " kindness " to her. i.e., making all of her insane abuse okay and soothing HER feelings for it. Ack. In all ways, I held myself to a high level of achievement no matter how much abuse I sustained. I learned to disconnect the two, somehow. > > > > That was one of the things I decided for myself today--that I would no longer hold myself to any standard of perfection if I was taking a beating of any form. From now on, I don't want to ever absorb abuse and just go on. It was my strongest coping skill, so no wonder it's lingered. > > > > Have you read " The Betrayal Bonds " by Carnes? Wow, did that resonate with me!! > > > > Thanks for getting it-- > > Blessings, > > Karla > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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