Wednesday, August 8, 2012

Hen Fruit.

The gals over at DS just can't do anything right. 


You are making breakfast for your estranged (unreasonable, demanding, irrational) child and ask, "What do you want for breakfast?"

Estranged child says, "Two eggs, one fried, one poached."

So you make breakfast, set it in front of your estranged child who looks you straight in the eye and says (here it comes)..."But you fried the wrong egg!"

And that, my friends, is what we are up against. We will fry the wrong egg every time because they're gunning for us. We will fry the wrong egg because you simply cannot win this game.

One observation about the chicks over on Daily Strength is that they all had their kids tell them to fuck off.  Over here in Blogacon, we have all (most of us) told our parents to fuck off.  They can't understand why their kids won't associate with them. Most of us wouldn't go back there if you held a gun to our head. 
This isn't a coincidence.
They are clueless.
Their kids have got clues for them.
They are too busy shouting them down to listen.

 I almost feel bad for some of the people there. I  mock them and ridicule them. But I don't really know if they are straight up or not. You know some of them have to be.  I went there and the FIRST! thread is the the purple text below. She lays it on pretty thick. She cried for three hours?
I didn't cry for three hours when the Dallas cowboys muffed what should have been their third super bowl win in a row.  

It's all in the tell. Read them through and there is always that crack that lets you know it's all bull shit and a pack of lies. 


Double reverse histrionic punt fake. On three. Ready break. 

And swish.  I couldn't make this up if I wanted to. 
Here is more.

I am completely alone. I have another daughter, my youngest, who unfortunately made some wrong choices and she is in prison; some other pain that I have to deal with. On top of that, my mom is 93 years old and was hospitalized 3 times during this summer and I have not been able to go see her because she lives in the Islands and since I am taking care financially of my daughter who is in prison. I dont have enough money to fly over there. 

Since when do people in prison pay rent? That's how we got the phrase three hots and a cot. It's not five star accommodations but the price is right. I doubt if her daughter has any bills on the outside. Most people get out of jail and start over.  I am thinking the no contact daughter is the scapegoat and the one in prison is the golden child. The scapegoat is called everything but a C***. The golden child made some bad choices and unfortunately is in a women's prison. Surrounded by hundreds of other women. Savage, sex starved women taking showers.  Naked even.  

I got sick to my stomach. Honestly, my grievance is not that she wanted to re establish a relationship with her ex husband. My grievance is how she changed from one day to another from being the loving daughter she was to this monster who despises me. I am also apalled at how she is disregarding her two oldest children, not taking unto account what they feel and think. I think I am going to contact a therapist. I dont think I can deal with these by myself. I have always been a strong woman. I have dealt with cancer, loosing my job and eventually loosing my home, my daughter in prison, and many other things, and I always had the opinion depression was a luxury that I couldnt afford. This time, I feel as depression is here and I have to get help to deal with it.

So this is really about her daughter hooking back up with her ex-husband.


Their father died about 14 years ago and I have raised them by myself for 30 years now.
Is this new math? Or does having two kids make six months equal a year? 
Your mum is so fat that if there was a circle of people with radius xpir^2, she could sit in the middle and sit on everyone.

Why is it so hard for them to walk away? I have gone no contact and as much as I piss and moan it's not because I lost this magic relationship. It's my anger for all the years I wasted on a person who would just as soon see me dead so she ramp up the drama and crocodile tears and fake grief and be the martyr forever more. And do it without any fear of me around to tell people what a lying sack of shit she is.


vicariousrising said...

Snicker. I'm so glad you save me the trouble of going to the estranged parent sites and do the analysis for me. Otherwise I'd be tempted to leave them a responding post that would be deleated before I could blink.

Gotta love their revisionist history. I wish they were half as devastated as they pretend to be. They're just mad they don't control their kids and they love the poor me drama. These folks would be miserable if their estranged kids were around and doing as commanded. They're just miserable people, period. Their kids were lucky to get away with whatever self-respect they might still retain.

Charity said...

As I've shared in a number of comments, I went through a lot of extreme abuse from both of my mentally ill/personality disordered/empathy impaired parents, abuse that continues to the present day in the form of vicious character-assassinating lies and book-length hate letters from my now-elderly momster (with whom I have been No Contact since 2006. Dad died in 1988, after 8 years of NC).

I grew up believing I was born inherently unlovable, unlikable, and "crazy like my father." When I was 10 I asked my mother why she didn't like me, and she said "It's just YOU, it's just the way you are, it's the way you THINK." I had hoped she would give me a tangible answer that I could fix, but her answer told me I was hopeless.

It wasn't until I turned 50 that I finally learned what has been "wrong" with me my entire life: PTSD. I was diagnosed after taking a full battery of psychological tests. My doctor told me that I wasn't "crazy," I was psychologically injured. "Having PTSD as a result of overwhelming trauma is NORMAL, just as it is normal to bleed if you are stabbed." I had no evidence of any personality disorders, either, although my doctor said me he couldn't understand why I didn't! "You should at least be Borderline, after the trauma you have gone through," he said. "But you are just too nice to be borderline!" I have empathy, you see, almost too much of it.

So it's official. I'm not crazy, and I'm not borderline or otherwise personality disordered. But I AM badly broken and very dysfunctional. I have been “broken” with PTSD since I was a little girl. Psychologically, I am like a person who was viciously stabbed multiple times, and left to bleed out.

You wouldn't expect a person who is on the threshold of death from multiple stab wounds to function like a normal person, to go to work, cook, keep the house clean, keep herself clean, and take proper care of her children - but when I first got married (at the age of 16, so desperate was I for love) - and when I had my children at the age of 18, 21, and 26, I was a broken needy depressed anxious insecure emotional wreck. Not my fault, and very normal considering what I had gone through, BUT: I was NOT FIT to be a mother. No more than a person lying in the hospital after being run over by a truck, is fit to feed and care for tiny dependent children.

I love each one of my children enough to die for any one of them, if need be. But dying for someone is almost easier than living for them, if you know what I mean.

I get along great with 2 of my 3 children. My eldest, whose 41st birthday is today, does not wish to have anything to do with me.

And I don't blame him. At first I did, but I've learned some things since then.

Even though my brokenness was not my fault, and although I did my best as a mother, AND despite the fact that I never did 1/100th the horrible neglectful hateful abusive EVIL things to my children that my parents did to me, I was not the mother that my children needed, and deserved. All children need, and deserve, a mother who LOVES them unconditionally, who accepts and celebrates them Just As They Are, differences and faults and all. All children need and deserve a mother who will sacrifice for them, and a mother who is mentally, emotionally, financially, and socially stable. Every child needs and deserves a secure, safe, peaceful, happy, loving home.

My children did not get those things, because I was so badly broken. I was too depressed to function many days. I was overwhelmingly needy, because the vast majority of my normal human needs had never been met. I was immature as hell. I could barely take proper care of a house plant, let alone an infinitely priceless child. (continued next comment)

Charity said...

(continued from previous comment)
For years I lived in denial of how bad of a mother I have been, because I could not bear to face it. Facing it would have been the final "straw" that killed me. Until I began to get some truly helpful therapy, after my PTSD was diagnosed in 2003, and I finally began to understand that my brokenness, my “craziness,” is not my fault - until then, I could not bear to be honest with myself about how profoundly I have failed my children. I kept comparing how much better they had it, than I had it. At least they were not sexually abused, as I was! At least I never tried to gas them all to death, as my mother did! At least I never dreamed of sitting on my daughter's husband's lap, like my mother did, right in front of my daughter, after telling my daughter that as the Biblical head of the house he had every right to BEAT her if she “needs” it!

BUT: the hell I went through in my childhood was not my children's fault! The fact that they had it “better” than I had it, did not mean they had it GOOD, because they didn't! Saying "I did the best I could" may be true, and it might make ME feel better, but it doesn't help THEM! Trying to “excuse” or justify or minimize my wrongs, in order to make me feel less terrible about me, negates their very real pain and dismisses their very justified anger – and that is no apology,

The bottom line is that my children were born to a broken mother, and their childhoods were very hard because of that. They needed and deserved a much better mother than they got.

I understand this more, the more I learn about how deprived my childhood was. Right now I am halfway through the book "The Emotionally Unavailable Mother," written by Cori (I can't recall her first name). I bought this book to help with my ongoing process of healing from my childhood wounds.... but as I read this book, and others like it, I keep getting hit SMACK Between The Eyes with the TRUTH that I was a worse mother to my three children than I, in my ignorance, had previously realized!

I have told my 31-year-old son, and I told my 37-year-old daughter, that I now realize I was a horrible mother to them in many ways. I told them both that I am not asking them to forgive me, because, I said, I have learned that they have the RIGHT to be FUCKING PISSED OFF at me, for the rest of their lives, for how bad they had it growing up. I want them to HATE me, if that's what THEY NEED TO DO, to help themselves HEAL from the SHIT that my brokenness put them through.

Because, when it comes to my children and the many ways I failed them, I now understand that it's not about ME, it's about THEM.

I hope and pray the day will come when my eldest will allow me to tell him what I have already told my other 2 children. I want to be able to look in him the eyes and admit that I owe him about 10,000 apologies, and that I realize I can never make up to him for the many wrongs I have done against him, but OH how I would love to TRY.

I would give everything I own, swim oceans and climb mountains, to be able to turn back time and parent my children all over again, knowing what I wish I had known... 41 years ago.


Tundra Woman said...

My, my, my how these NPs give themselves away: "They're GUNNING for us." Er, no. We're RUNNING AS FAST AND AS FAR AS WE CAN FROM YOU. But you can not have the decency to leave us the fuck alone. You've done enough damage, OK? So stop with the bitching, pull up your panties and get over your NP self. And what further evidence would I need to put an "N" in front of the "P"? " simply can not WIN THIS GAME." There it is, in all it's disgusting glory: A GAME. And who ELSE but a NARC would see an ADULT who terminates a relationship with them as a "GAME"? That's how they view the lives they endeavored to wreck in an effort to ensure THEIR sick, twisted "Needs" were met. No surprise, when ya do what ya did, ya get what ya got: Our lives are nothing but a "game." And a "game" to be "won" or "lost." Not a life. Not as an autonomous human being who is an adult as as such has both the right AND the responsibility to determine who will and more importantly will NOT have access to us OR our children.
Then we have Exhibit B: I do believe you nailed this one, q. The one in Prison is having her "golden" sheared for the safety of the rest of society. I don't know where you all live, but in my neck of the woods-literally-you have to WORK your way into PRISON. Jail? Not so much, it's kind of the local all-purpose detox/mental health unit. But PRISON? Sweet-stuff, this isn't a matter of "made some wrong choices." This is a CRIMINAL LIFE-STYLE "CHOICE." No more, no less. And yes, she gets 3 meals, a bed AND "educational opportunities" to ensure when she gets out, she can exercise her newly minted-skills on OTHER non-criminal, basically normal citizens-like you and me. So just keep sendin' her money and she'll "looovee you" and get paroled to your ass where she can continue to steal you-and everyone else blind if not DEAD. Yep, the other daughter has decided to let mom swim with the sharks and she's headin' for the land of sanity with the ex. Good choice. I wouldn't want my kids around a "grandma" OR an "Aunt" like this pair either.
Perhaps that site would be better served/titled as:
Axis II: Bat-Shit Crazy, NOS.

q1605 said...

Good call TW. And it's a game they lose when we go no contact. What do they expect? They get to run around and be as crazy as they can be and we are supposed to sit there and take it?
I can vouch for prison. Catching a chain takes a lot work or I would have gone.
Charity. For a person who claims to have strayed so far from her center, you make a lot of sense.

Charity said...

Thank you for that, Q.

My loyal husband tells me I'm way too hard on myself. I don't know if he's right about that, I really don't. My trauma therapist says I'm much too hard on myself, too.

All I know is that when my first child was born 41 years ago today, the love that flooded every molecule of my being was HUGE. When the nurse handed him to me for the first time, I literally felt like she was handing me the whole world! And I vowed in that moment to never make a mistake with him, to never hurt him, to protect him from every harm, always.

As I was holding him that first time, looking at him with eyes of wonder, he waved his little fist in front of his face and scratched his nose with his fingernail. It left a little red mark on his nose. He was past due by almost a month, and his fingernails were all very long. So I dug into my purse, got out my nail clippers, and started clipping his nails. On the second or third fingernail, he jumped suddenly, and the clipper nicked his tiny finger and made it bleed a drop of blood. He cried, and I cried. Not ten minutes had passed since my solemn vow to never make a mistake and to always protect my child, and I had already hurt him!

Of course that tiny nick was no big deal... but it was a profound moment for me, wanting only the best for my child, and as an 18-year-old girl who had been told all my life that I was born crazy, unlovable, and unworthy, I was so afraid that I wouldn't be able to provide for my child the way my heart longed to do.

A few years later, when I was going through a divorce from his unfaithful, lying, physically and verbally abusive narcissistic father - the one whose lap my then 35-year-old mother had sat on, shortly after we married - I went into such a terrible depression, that I could barely take care of my children. I know from the book I'm reading about the emotionally unavailable mother, that a deeply depressed mom is by definition a neglectful mother, even if she is going through all the correct motions of feeding and caring for her child - the mere fact that she is depressed is intself harmful to the developing psyche of the child, even though later in life her child most likely will not consciously remember it, the harmful effect will remain.

So, yes, everyone makes mistakes, there are no perfect people, and thus there are no perfect parents. But the more unstable one is when one is raising children, the more mistakes that person will make. I was too young, too broken by PTSD, and I was too ignorant, having been taught all the wrong things by my abusive neglectful parents, and their strict cultic religion. I grew up hating myself because hate is what I got from my parents. It's true that if you don't love yourself, you can't really fully properly love anyone else. I have struggled with very low self esteem all of my life, and that is another unhealthy legacy that I passed on to my poor children.

It's a tough balancing act, being honest and repentant about the wrongs I have done, not trying to minimize them or excuse them away, but also understanding, as my husband and my therapist keep telling me, that I need to give myself a break and try not to beat myself up, because for one thing beating myself up doesn't do any good, and also because I was badly broken by extreme multiple abuses - I haven't told about all of it, not by a long shot - so it's really a wonder that I survived my childhood at all.

The bottom line, though, is that I was too broken to be the mother that I wanted to be, the mother that my children needed and deserved. I regret that, more than anything else in my life. Being angry with my abusers is one thing; being angry with myself is far more painful.

I wonder if this isn't why more parents won't own up to their misdeeds - because facing it, owning it, without sugar coating, whitewashing, minimizing, or excusing it, makes a person want to give up and die?

q1605 said...

I would think owning up would be liberating. You can finally quit reading off a script that never rang true.
I guess some of that depends on the severity of the abuse. But my mother wouldn't fess up to not tying my shoes.
Their sick. They like being sick. And they want you to be sick with them.
All in the name of maintaining a facade that only they care about.
They remind me of a cat that falls out of a tree and lands in the pool and almost drowns. It'll climb back out and look around to see who noticed.
Then stroll off with that look of "you didn't see me fall in that water. That's my story and I'm sticking to it."

Anonymous said...

"They like being sick. And they want you to be sick with them."

That's the truth there.


q1605 said...

My first wife got the bright idea of me having a vasectomy.
I didn't jump at the chance. But I didn't say no.
It was all I could do to take care of myself.

Tundra Woman said...

Remember, this is NOT about "making mistakes." We ALL do, and kids want nothing more than to be loved, to please their parents. That's it in a nutshell. What we've experienced is a PATTERN OF BEHAVIOR over YEARS. This "make a mistake(s)" these parents speak to so frequently is IMO another indicator or minimizing-not OWNING their behavior, which fits right in with their pattern of denial, rationalizing, gaslighting, sabotaging, etc.
And when we walk away-finally-we're no longer participating in their crazy. Which leads to fury on their part. How do we know this? Why the constants we see in terms of their responses? The Smear Campaigns, the Recruiting Efforts, the Denigration of their AC, the Stalking, the Boundary Busting Tactics etc. Does this speak to any kind of NORMAL PARENT? C'mon, regardless of our individual circumstances-and each of us ARE unique-why are the tactics so consistent? The only conclusion I can come to is these parents are NOT "Normal." Or remotely "Parents" in the commonly accepted sense of the term. Through their behavior a Temporary Estrangement becomes a PERMANENT state of affairs. And they have no one to blame, to hold accountable but themselves. And that is NOT going to happen. The more the "Parent" engages in behaviors such as these, the further the AC will remove themselves both physically and psychologically and more permanent the estrangement WILL become. Giving an AC all the time and space they've requested will allow the AC to revisit the decision-none of us terminate a relationship with a parent simply because of a few "mistakes." It takes YEARS of concerted effort to destroy that bond, but they succeed spectacularly. Their behavior when the AC sets up some boundaries ensures the AC's sense that something is very, very wrong here is validated, confirmed beyond any hope for reconciliation. Clearly, "reconciliation" never was the REAL agenda on the part of the "Parent": Let the "Games" begin.

Anonymous said...

"And when we walk away-finally-we're no longer participating in their crazy. Which leads to fury on their part".

This is similar to a conversation I just had with a friend about a crazy neighbor she has who acts out and wants other neighbors to interact with her about it. And she was saying it's weird, but she thinks the neighbor wants other people to react to her, interact with her about it, that's her motive. Like a naughty child wanting attention from a controller parent. And I think it's also true about these awful parents. They want the dysfunctional interaction they have with their children. And that's why they blow up when we pull away. It's some kind of sick co-dependent relationship using us as whipping posts or scapegoats to fill their needs.


Anonymous said...

"Their behavior when the AC sets up some boundaries ensures the AC's sense that something is very, very wrong."

Oh yes! When I didn't go see my mother in 2004 is when she blew up spectacularly. Just because I set a boundary and said the word No. But if she doesn't like me as she says, and she doesn't want to see me, then why blow up when I refuse to go see her? Bizarro. If I had gone down there she would pulled some bullying stunt or abuse on me.


Charity said...

I agree with what you guys are saying, there's a big difference between my momster's evil acts, and my grievous mistakes as a mother. The #1 difference is that my mother does not love. Whereas most normal mothers will throw themselves under a bus if need be to save their child, my mother threw me under the bus to save herself - and she did this over and over again.

There was never a day in my kids' lives when I would not have laid down my life to save any one of theirs if I needed to.

Another major difference is that my mother lies. She tells horrid lies, to tear me down, whereas I am honest to my own detriment at times, and as for tearing my children down and slaughtering their reputation, I would never do that! I do the opposite, I build them up, I tell them, and others, how awesome they are, because they are!

Then there is empathy. I can FEEL other people's pain, but my momster doesn't seem to have a clue about anyone's feelings but her own.

I could never do the things my mother did. I can't even understand the things my mother did. I witnessed them firsthand, and even so I can scarcely believe the things my mother does!

But I did make some big mistakes with my kids. Not on purpose, not because I didn't love them with all my might, and certainly not because I wished to ever do them harm: I made mistakes with my kids because I was SHATTERED with Complex PTSD - shattered so badly that when I was 14, when my dissociating PTSD symptoms first started, I was diagnosed with Schizophrenia. This was in 1967, when PTSD was unknown.

Over the decades I have had more doctors than I can remember tell me that I could not possibly have ever been schizophrenic. But it wasn't until 2003 that I was put through a full battery of psychological tests by a renowned psychiatrist, and his verdict at the end of it all was that I had severe PTSD, depression, and anxiety. That was it. No personality disorders, no schizo-anything.

He also told me he was amazed that I didn't have a severe personality disorder, considering my extensive trauma history. He told me that in his 30+ years in practice he's counseled many people who were far sicker than me, whose trauma histories weren't a fraction as bad as mine.

Two years after I was diagnosed schizophrenic, I was married. A year and a half after that, I had my first child. Meanwhile, beginning within the first month of that marriage, my husband was beating me up all the time for every thing that irked him. He told me after our whirlwind 2 month courtship that he only married me because he was 18 and a high school dropout and about to be drafted. We married in February 1970, when being married and having a child right away kept a man from being drafted. As soon as we married he told me he had never loved me, he was too young to settle down with just one woman, and he was still going to date whomever he pleased. When I got upset and cried, he beat me.

I had zero self-esteem, and since he was rarely home, I thought staying with him was preferable to living on the streets or going back to my evil mother. I couldn't find the courage to leave him until he broke his promise to never beat me in front of our child. (continued on my next comment)

Charity said...

(continued from my previous comment)
I was depressed beyond words. I was broken beyond comprehension. And because I was so Fucked Up, I made a lot of big mistakes as a mother. I was depressed, withdrawn, expected too much of my kids too soon, and I began drinking to numb my misery, which made me even crazier, and I went nuts trying to find someone to love me, but normal guys don't tend to fall in love with a depressed needy emotional basket case alcoholic divorcee with 2 tots and a history of schizophrenia. But users and abusers seek women like that out like prey, especially if she's pretty. So I had a string of abusive relationships during my kids growing up years, and each one left me more shattered than I was before, if that's possible. All of these factors made for a very bad environment for my kids.

At one point when my eldest 2 were teens and running wild and the youngest was a 7-yr-old teen wannabe, I called social services on myself! I told them I did not have a clue how to be a good mother and I needed help! They sent 2 counselors over, and they told me I was the only mother they ever heard of who called social services on herself!

Now, my daughter and younger son have forgiven me. My elder son has not, but I hope someday he will. I do most definitely respect his right to not have me in his life! My elder son had a bad head injury when he was 13, which immediately and permanently changed his personality. I believe if this had not ever happened to him, he would not be so hard-nosed against me. He is hard-nosed against the world, really. He is still intelligent and can hold down a job, but he lost the gentle nature he had before. He is sort of like a young Archie Bunker on the 70s sitcom All In The Family, very opinionated and bigoted and pissed off at the world. His 14-year-old daughter recently asked my daughter, her aunt, what her dad was like before his head injury, because she can tell he isn't quite normal.

But even with all these real and plausible reasons for why my son does not want to be in contact with me, I still feel guilty, I still beat myself up, because I believe that if I had been the healthy sane mother that all kids need and deserve, my son would not be against me, head injury or no.

That's another huge difference between me and my momster. She never accepts responsibility, all she does is project, blame, lie, and make excuses.

The truth is: It's intensely lonely being me. I have not met too many people, online or in person, who were so badly broken by their childhood traumas that they were diagnosed schizophrenic at the age of 14. Most people, once they learn this about me, stop even trying to relate to me. It's like I've told them I'm from another galaxy.

I'm thinking seriously of getting rid of my blogs and going offline completely. I was hoping to meet some understanding people online, hoping to meet find people who could relate to me, the real me, and that does not seem to be happening. But I'll probably hold off a few days on making this decision, because I know that right now my thinking is not my normal, this new antidepressant I started on about 2 weeks ago seems to be giving me a paradoxical effect. I have that with lots of things, for example caffeine calms my nerves and makes me sleepy. On this new med I seem to be getting more depressed, and it's scary inside my head right now, because right now I just don't like me. But I still like some things, like pie and ice cream, so maybe it's just that I'm adjusting to this new med still. I will call my doctor and she what she thinks. (When I reacted so badly a couple of weeks ago to my then-new Rx for Zoloft, I hated everything, even ice cream. That's what I mean. Ow, my head hurts.)

Anonymous said...

Charity, so sorry for everything you have been through. I think the hardest part in all the things we live through is accepting ourselves as we are and loving ourselves. We weren't taught to do that at all, in fact we grew up trying constantly to defend ourselves to monsters. But defending ourselves is different from just being ourselves and loving ourselves and saying F-You to parents who even can't accept their own children.


q1605 said...

Charity, I gave up on telling others about all the bullshit....well I never really started. Until way later. People that thought they knew me well would get this odd look and then never be quite the same around me again. Maybe not never but not for a while. No one ever acts the same around you ever again. Not really.
I just leave it out. I only tell women and that is when the relationship gets to a point that I feel like they should know before they commit further.
Sis. I am mostly pissed by how much more I might have been. On all fronts. If that bitch didn't sail in as soon as something good was rolling and take a big dump on it.
She was like a stray cat. Kind of off somewhere else until we got a good roll going.
Then she would come in ruin it. Like she wasn't going to allow something good around anybody. Even if she was a part of it.
Reminds me of a band where the main guy quits and the band replaces him and keeps doing well. So the old guy comes back and as soon as he does the old shit comes with him and the magic is over.

Anonymous said...

Charity, the most important thing I can say to you right now is 'hang on in there tomorrow will be a little bit better'.
I've been on SSRIs it gets worse before it gets better. Some of what you're feeling right now isn't quite real. I know this to be true, I've experienced it. It will get better! Hang on in there and be kind to yourself.

Love Molly

Anonymous said...

true, Q! She never did a thing to help anyone. In fact whatever we accomplished was done in spite of what she did. And then as soon as you get a scrap of something she wants to dart in there and yank it away from you. Makes my head hurt just to think about it.


q1605 said...

If I am wrong correct me. I was as young as you can get and have a memory of something.
Remember when Dad bought that lot down the street from B&E?
Didn't he close on it and have headed toward building a house there and she yanked the rug out from under it all?
I was pretty sure he closed on the land.
Well think about it.
She knew from the get go she wasn't going to live that close to B&E.
They would drop in and either find her north 40 getting plowed or else she wouldn't be there.
Either way she couldn't carry on like before.
So why didn't she put her foot down sooner?
If she let him get all out of pocket knowing she was going to put a stop to it then that was just mean.

Anonymous said...

Yep, he had the land and had blueprints all drawn up for the house. I remember seeing it vividly. B&E and all of us used to go to the land on weekends and clear out the dead brush and stuff getting it ready for the new house. I was soooooo excited about it. Then voila, the land was sold. I'm sure she immediately panicked, but he was so dead set on the idea of it it probably took a while for her constant needling him to sell it took affect. She probably made up some awful story to turn him away from it, like 'oh you don't want to live that close to your sister.....blahblahblah". Nauseating.


q1605 said...

I described this on a post and I thought I was right. Down to the blueprints. So I threw it all in. For the life of me I don't know how I knew unless we talked about it after I was grown.

q1605 said...

I wonder how much money was wasted?

Anonymous said...

You were probably 2 or 3? Just guessing. Ha ha, I bet Emma don't want to live near her either. Whoever is around her winds up being your 'minder', trying to keep her behavior in the range of normal. Which is impossible.

Was thinking about posts on your blog this week, and it seems like these N's want dysfunctional relationships (like you said, they're crazy and they want you to be crazy, too), it's the only way they know how to bond with people -- through anger and hate. They don't know how to do anything else, it's about over powering and controlling others. So if you create boundaries to stop the dysfunction they go into their abandonment issues which is to say they go even crazier..


Anonymous said...

only a hundred typos in that, LOL.
"didn't want to live near her".
"her minder".
that's what I get for eating a fudgesicle and typing at the same time.


Anonymous said...

yikes, I can't shut up today....
anyway, I was reading Charity's blog, great stuff! But I can't post a comment because I'm not registered. Was going to say on the knife post:

"Charity, I love how you said that and walked out! Yea for YOU!
This post pushed a button for me, they accuse you of thinking something or wanting something, and it's total projection. It's crazy making. How do you disprove it when someone says you were thinking something, and you're a child and they are the 'authority' figure. And how dare they try to convince you that you were thinking something? Grrrrr. It's a total imbalance of power with the kids on the losing end."


Elena K said...

Interesting post. It reminds me of something...

Some years ago, an elderly woman moved into the apartment complex where I lived. She seemed nice, pleasant in a prim sort of way. Let's call her "Jo".

She would often come by to chat. She revealed the great tragedy of her life was that her two sons would no longer speak to her. Despite all they had put her through and all she had done for them, they had disowned her. It was a terrible thing to do to a parent, didn't I think?

I began to have my doubts. I noticed that things always seemed to happen around Jo's perimeter. Tensions would rise, there would be nasty rumors, people would fight. There would be odd incidents too, like having small items stolen, or being reported on to the apartment manager for something they hadn't done. Some people even had anonymous calls to their workplace, telling their boss they were stealing from the company or whatnot.

None of these things could be directly linked to Jo, or not that anyone said (after all, she was such a nice, prim older lady, who would want to make that accusation?) but it seemed anyone who lived nearby or spent time with her was soon having trouble. When the newspaper ran a story about Jo's high school class having their 50th anniversary, some of the other women from her class became very nervous, and asked the reporter not to give Jo their contact information. They hadn't seen her in 50 years, but that was not long enough, apparently. Something was clearly wrong here, even if it was hard to pin down exactly what it was.

Jo was still playing the role of sweet kindly mother who had been unfairly rejected when she slipped up one day. We were talking about pet care when she laughingly mentioned that when she got tired of cleaning up after the family pets, she killed them. She went on to describe how funny it was when she boiled her son's goldfish to death and mimicked how her son had cried.

I guess this is what they mean by the mask slipping?

I must have shown how horror-stricken I felt, because she looked taken aback and then stared at me hard before walking away. We never spoke again - though she was careful to tell everyone it was because she disapproved of me. She moved away soon after that. I was glad. Something about the way she looked during that incident gave me the cold chills.

Several years later, there was story in the paper. An elderly woman had died and her children were refusing to claim her body. No one was sure what to do. The dead woman's neighbor was outraged at how such a lovely woman could have such terrible, ungrateful children. A lot of the people in the newsroom were in agreement. What kind of rotten kids wouldn't claim their mother's body? Considering my own upbringing, I said, well you don't know. There may have been a good reason her children wanted nothing to do with her. Then I checked the dead woman's name - of course it was Jo.

The outraged neighbor had known her all of 3 months. I had still thought Jo was a nice lady at 3 months, too. I don't even want to think about what it was like to be raised by that woman. Sometimes there is a very good reason for no contact.

q1605 said...

Don't I know it. I lived with my mother after she had a stroke. There were little cracks in the mask from the get go. Once they know you know, look out. They don't even try to hide it.
My first (borderline)wife and I were to the point of exchanging gunfire. Suddenly she got very nice. Came home on time and cooked and er.."put out" regularly. Lasted for a couple of months.
In the middle of all this nice nice we went to Mexico with her mother and family. I heard down there that her mother told her she wasn't welcome. She needed to stay here and work on her marriage.
I didn't think too much about it.
So we flew back. We were all on the same plane. We walked through the terminal and got to the point where we were all going to split up and go in separate directions.
As soon as we were no longer in sight of her family (we were holding hands) she threw my hand away from her and said "don't fucking touch me."
I just looked at her and I know my face had this look of oh NOW I get it.
She had spent three months placating me with this act so we could go to Mexico with her family.
And it's not like the mother paid for it. We paid our own way.
We filed for divorce about six weeks later.
I don't know.
Cuh-razy people.