Saturday, November 26, 2016

10,000 Maniacs

Image result for 1408 movie


https://www.coloradohistoricnewspapers.org/cgi-bin/colorado?a=d&d=DCN19671109-01.2.49
I was googling around and found this old newspaper article about my beloved mother. If you read down you'll see that when they dumped the dudes body on the side of the road he was still alive and moaning. After they drove off the guy actually was able to get out and crawl down the road seeking help. Help that was not ever coming.


I can always count on my sister to send me stuff that gives being raised by the bopsy-twins some perspective.


 "I think they proved to the world they were wrong, it isn't just us seeing it.  Everyone who ever knew them
knows they were fucked up.  Maybe not the extent of it, but people aren't as dumb as they thought.
Pretty much for the world, any of the things they did tells the world they'd screwed up. Killing yourself
or other people, going on trial for killing people, disowning your own children over nothing, neglecting children, hating your own children, not having a funeral, or memorial because you're too stubborn, talking about your children like their dogs. Seriously, just running your own kids down to everyone is enough for most people to back away and go whoa, that's freaky". 

62 comments:

q1605 said...

I have no answers for any body that is curious about what my point might be. Maybe its to show what they are capable of, or the lack of concern a Narcissist parent shows their children. I am positive my mother thought she was a good mother. But when we no longer paid her the respect she thought she deserved, she went out and bought new kids and disowned her own. I really don't think she thought of us at all. Not in terms of how her actions had consequences on us. Her net effect on us was for us to die an early death from stress related disease's. I consider my father's suicide a stress related end after a life time of her mind fucking. The rewards for indulging these people are not commensurate with the toll they take. So if you are no contact my advice is to keep it that way, and if you are not completely shed of these toxic fuckers I would suggest you get the hell way from them.

RazedbyPD said...

Hi q. I always get something from your posts. It must be beyond words to have print proof of your "mother's" cold-hearted savagery, that horrendous sack passing as human. Most of us can only guess about our families and what never made the news; you know, like the rest of your life with her. Your "mother" reminds me of my maternal "grandmother" who I heard used to work in a brothel during the great depression, used her non-combative, not-so-quick-witted husband to hold together her pretend family while she had apparently internalized brothel living and had numerous 'boyfriends' throughout their marriage. She apparently accused one of her 'boyfriends' of INFIDELITY and chased him around the house with a butcher knife. That's not weird... She "farmed-out" the kids she didn't like of the five she brought into the world. They were farm labor while her favorites learned the tricks of narcissistic PD and all of them ended up with some variation of deeply fucked-up character.
Anyway, I like to visit your blog for the shade and I stay for the boundaries. You're like a little lighthouse out here as I still work at cutting my moorings to "family" with a pocketknife. I'm glad you have your sister, hopefully making your holidays less spooky and hollow.

q1605 said...

Pardon my crudeness, but after a while I feel like I am pissing in the wind. That the only utility I gain from rehashing her exploits is to just keep picking at it until it bleeds. Most people who met her were left thinking she must be related to royalty. I always thought that was a neat trick because what we got behind closed doors more resembled a werewolf. Even in the face of the damning evidence. I don't think I will ever be able to convey the experience of living with a psychopath and having people tell you how nice they think she is. She had such a carefully crafted facade of sanity that people never cared to look behind. Its as if wearing your make up just so and dressing in a smart out fit mitigated her role in a premeditated murder. She was always willing to roll the dice as long as someone else would be the ones cleaning up behind her. Thanks for the kind words and for taking the time to write. I was talking to a friend about how depressing Thanksgiving is for me until in writing her I remembered that the thanksgiving after her crime I had to speak to my mother through a Plexiglas hole in the wall and I guess that's probably something that accounts for my solemn feeling during this time of year. So bit by bit I brick the wall. I am too old to realistically think I will get over all of it. So I have to take it a day at a time.

RazedbyPD said...

"...if you ever met me in person you wouldn't match me with the person who fought back in the end." I get that, though I probably wouldn't care. You have the decency and intellect to say what your troubles are. You aren't just burying people in personal garbage, exhibiting disgust toward even the kind-hearted while you get over yourself. You're very honest.

Pissing in the wind is all we're ever doing it would seem. Many people either have the luxury of or are self-lobotomized into a single-mindedness that has no room for our troubles, let alone that shit over which cannot be gotten. (I tried to church that up a little with proper English... HA!) I think sometimes sanity is maintained by reliving the reprehensible, to become vigilant through advice from places where we needn't ask for permission to speak. Where it's a requirement because we clearly need someone to hear us, to relive it, precisely because it's so reprehensible!

I'm glad your "mother" is gone. She wasn't going to be forthcoming with regret. I wish you could have gotten even a morsel, but she never would have given it, obviously, ever. People in my life I wished to have regrets are still motoring around like victims of the world, problems so big, they make a hangnail sound like a near amputation. Meanwhile they're liars, thieves, and abusers; alienating through chaos, yelling about what a piece of shit I must be. They don't read, they don't improve themselves, they have no real interests except in their own delusions, they just take and gripe and... Blobs creating huge problems for others, taking what isn't theirs with frightening behavior when they don't get their way (whatever that is) in every moment.

You were obviously very restrained re your "mother". You so clearly have so much more to give the rest of this godforsaken world that needs people like you, but she went way too far... Best that she's gone. But you don't shy away from people rehashing their pain, so, I mean it is your blog; rehash away! This is all we're left with, right? Hanging out on a blog where hey, there's somebody who had a shitty life too! And he still has the sense to take it seriously and care about others!

BTW, I was an absolute wreck/asshole when I was turned loose on the world as a teen/young adult, but I gradually corrected my navigation system back toward who I knew I was inside. Lotta good it did me within the FOO, as we all know, they need me to self-destruct as proof that I'm defective. There was a lot of damage already done (and there's proof plenty of the damage), but it's never enough is it? They'll continue to abuse no matter what and it has nothing to do with me. As MF says, "Fuck em", they'll never stop, till they're dead. So if you find one dead, don't bother with resuscitation because they'll just be up and at it again.

PS To me there's no such thing as "crudeness" when you come out on the other side of this kind of treatment with most of your marbles intact. (But you were polite to mention it. :) ) You have quite a few stories of some shit that went down; war wounds that probably won't "heal". Crudeness is part of the 'spoken word', no PC expected from me on this topic for sure. (And a lot of us are getting too old for real repairs, I think it's a human warranty thing.)
PPS I'm sorry for your experience that clouds Thanksgiving. Maybe to help rearrange that memory for you, Pexiglas Hole in the Wall could become a title to something... Song? Greeting card? Reader's Digest, Large Print?

q1605 said...

Razed.....I think some of your comment may be you responding to a comment of mine I ended up pulling. I don't mean to gas light you, but there are plenty of people that would write me off by what I wrote in answer to you. Little did I know that my mother and ex wife were in cahoot's and she would love to get her hands on something current to paint me as unhinged. I am just tired of it. Tired of her. And tired of them. They won. They took our whole family and any thing we had and trashed it. And I can live with that. I sometimes bemoan the fact that my ex-wife stole everything we had but she didn't take anything my mother didn't give her. I don't even feel I have the right to visit my grandmothers grave because my ex even owns that. Or she owns the unoccupied graves. But I will never visit them again. When I first found out my mother was dead the funeral home wouldn't send me a death certificate without my ex -wife signing off. I can get one from the county but fuck it. I don't care anymore.

q1605 said...

Razed...the one thing I have acquired that was new to me was that these guys are enormously resourceful when it come to mucking around in the lives of the people they perceive as their enemies. They have that "the enemy of my enemy is my friend" taken to the Max. I just don't see the payoff. Especially when they apply it to family members. If you just tell the truth it's the only story you have to keep up with. I always heard people talking about their Narc's use of private eyes etc and kind of discounted it. Not any more. I backed into a friends car and my mother knew it before I did. In fact her throwing it up in my face was what sent me off the rails. I had called her about some tacky comments she made to my wife when I had her( my wife) pick up my computer after I went NC. I called her up and instead of us addressing her veracity challenged state, I found my self explaining about the fender bender. I just kind of asked her how she knew that and it was obvious. I backed into the guys car and instead of taking it up with me he called my ex-wife who gave them my mothers number. THAT's what flipped me out. That my mother was already getting her net work of backstabbers lined up rather than just talk to me. It's so much more fun to ambush people then it is to carry on like an adult and make amends to people you have been dumping on for decades.

q1605 said...

Razed I keep going back up and reading things you wrote that spurs my memory. The being wholly unprepared to become a fully formed adult is something that I got too. For two people who had sex 24/7 my parents were the most repressed people I have ever seen. We were in New Orleans for a long week end and the motel had a pool so I am approaching Nirvana at the prospect of unbridled pool privileges. At this point I might have been 6 or so. But I am bugging them about taking me swimming because you had to have an adult in attendance. So to head things off at the pass when all she really had to do was pull up a chair by the pool and make sure I didn't drown she broke into this long disjointed conversation about women's hygiene and how she couldn't get in the pool for reasons I would have rather not heard. So instead of me swimming and her watching me I end up going no where near the water because swimming meant I had to take my fingers out of my ears and not go LA LA LA la la la They had me so cowed down that when I played football in high school I wouldn't ask them to buy me a jock even though if the coach caught you playing with out one he would pull you out of the game.

RazedbyPD said...

Ah q, I see now the change you made; no matter. I know about tired, not your kinda tired, like I said it was my maternal "grandmother" who was the psychopath, but mommy-dearest learned to malign and scapegoat from the best! (She was one of the favored children, so she has the GC excuse; a dipwit with delusions of superiority is quite the thing to behold.) I have the kind of tired that makes me worry I'll just scream incomprehensible shit at people who I needed to go no-contact with but haven't technically. They are younger relatives, part of the "in-crowd", but haven't done anything to me; they just don't know their own relatives capabilities and why people are part of the out-crowd. It makes me tired to think how to handle stuff like that.

Graves and memorials, birthdays and holidays are all irreparably ruined and smeared with the forever and absolute reminder that we don't belong. We can't and who would want to at this point, except that they stole it from us! We don't have anyplace else where we can go to recall a fond memory or to celebrate with others. They take it all. Any relative that may have been safe yesterday... Just wait for it. PDs'll get their dirty little fingers and large noses into those relationships too.

Sometimes I feel like I'm two people. Not because I'm particularly duplicitous, though I guess we all have a private/social self, but because there is the one who I am and enjoy being and there's the one who has and continues to be fabricated by them. Like your "mother" saying you must be on drugs or that you're brain-damaged, but then there's you, the real you.

This is obviously more than just tedious and tiresome. We're talking about our grip here. I know I can't truly comprehend what you've been through and the diabolical implications this kind of treatment has for you everyday still. The behaviors of a true psychopath are obviously much more lethal than your run of the mill narc or BPD, etc... I may not understand, but like I said, I get a lot from reading your posts and I can feel compassion from you and my own for you. Psychopaths seem much more ambitious than their lesser PDs like your ex. But the PDs seem like lazy takers, so whatever's given, well who are they to object?!! I just don't know how conscience is formed, but it seems there comes a point of no return for all of these reckless, less-feeling types.

I'm sorry so much was taken from you and the little bit of family you have. I have a little family, but no one I trust from my own original family. My husband's family is too busy being enamored with themselves to be considered real trouble, but we're not very close. We have raised a couple of youngsters to adulthood who don't seem to want to kill us, so I guess we experienced genuine love there. (wink) They're great young people and I am forever grateful for them, but I had to be careful not to hang on too tight.

I'm too dense to remember that I'm not welcome most places that FOO have tried to cordon off for themselves, so I'll probably keep stepping in their traps. I do have the feeling that we've never welcome back to my hometown, so we're steering clear, but we just moved a little closer and that seemed to get them all jiggy, revving up new smears and 'opposite' behaviors. (Guess they claim a much larger area under their purview than just the hometown.) Yep, I understand being tired of it all. But I'm keeping my grip on who I know I am, I worked too hard to get her back (even if I do feel like two people at times.) I wonder if that helps you too to know who you are and that they didn't get that guy?

Well, I like you. And I wish you had what was yours to have, settled without question, at this point in your life. I'm sorry you don't. I'm sorry it's so easy to undo what good people build and deserve.

RazedbyPD said...

I'm noticing your afterthoughts after I send my reply which makes it look like I'm just skimming past the outrageous stuff you lived through. Sorry! I'll wait a bit so we're not typing at the same time. The pool deal is just gross. Especially for a little boy! OMG! Mommy-dearest was so uptight she explained NOTHING! But she still accused me of being seductive and exhibiting a sexiness that I'm pretty sure, as a tomboy, was non-existent when I was TEN! When I was a little kid, she treated me like I was a 35yo skank and as if I already knew everything all sleazy women knew... I remember her telling me I had a sick mind because I was singing out loud, just proud to know the words, "Why Don't We Do It in the Road". (I had no idea, I was nine and very uninformed.) She, of course, was the opposite of her projection; pure as freshly fallen snow. I think her children were actually conceived while she was fully clothed! HAHAHA! I'm serious!

q1605 said...

BTW I got your "why don't we do it in the road comment. I think that was my first Beatles Album. Or on my first Beatles album.

q1605 said...

And my mother would call a woman a whore as she gave guys a Beej in the parking lot behind a bar.

q1605 said...

Fully clothed..... you're cracking me up.

RazedbyPD said...

Hi q. Yeah, I sometimes wonder what it was like for Mr. Mommy-dearest, who was no peach himself, btw. But to be a young man, feeling all frisky, then looking under the marital covers to see the two sweatshirts, four pairs of sweatpants and wool socks he called his wife. He must've felt rather exposed, but nothing that a coupla stiff drinks couldn't help him overcome. She's the true psych def of "splitting". Her natural human self was torn apart in her head and projected onto others, always. He was some nasty pervert; she was just a nice girl who wanted to get some sleep, then this pervert walks in! So bizarre. But, of course, he didn't know this is what he had married since she never had an honest dialog with anyone ever in her life. Her mother, though, might have been your mother's sister, twin, evil auntie... She'd be outside the tavern doing a guy, just passing the time, while she waited for her 'husband' to drive over to give her a lift home; after he got the kids to bed and the dishes done up!

RazedbyPD said...

Oh and PS About singing that song out loud. I asked my older friend who was in the 4th grade why I wasn't supposed to sing it. She told me it had something to do with married people. Then we sang it really loud together while we rode our sting-ray bikes around the neighborhood! I was always a little bit too independent-minded that way.

q1605 said...

I am waiting for an ap that allows you to call back to a previous time and tell them if you don't fucking want kids just don't have them. Its not against the law to not have a kid. You obviously didn't want the ones you got and since abortion is not legal past the fourth or fifth trimester, just do without. It will be better for all of us. And if I check back when you guys are knocking boots I fully expect to see you wearing at least two condoms and a tube sock and have that shit wrapped in electrical tape or we are going to have a huge problem. I know it's a teen age mantra to say we didn't ask to be born but you aren't asking me to clean my plate, you are asking me to sweep up a whole set of dinnerware that got smashed when you guys turned Sunday dinner into a cage match.

q1605 said...

Or you can just "do it in the road". With any luck a truck will run us ALL over and we can quit this abortion you guys call a marriage before it gets started.(I knew if I put my mind to it I could work in the title to a Beatles song).

q1605 said...

Richard Pryor's grandmother had a bordello And Truman Capote was raised in one. Last time I checked they were still dead, mostly after a tortured life of alcohol and drug abuse.

q1605 said...

Razed....I don't know why they feel compelled to be so graphic about sex etc. My mother one time said something about women fouling their bed with their menses. Not the word she used but I try to be delicate when I can. And this was really the first time I noticed her projection as she was ladling it on. I was thinking you are a woman and you have two kids so your plumbing works just like any one's else. So why are they disgusting leches and you are snow white?

RazedbyPD said...

"... So why are they disgusting leches and you are snow white?" Well, q, as near as I can tell, these are decisions made on high and handed down through the ages. It is believed that only a select few receive the golden tablets as unquestionable testament to and proclamation of their effervescent purity. Therefore, they don't actually have to do good things to retain their chosen status, they just need to be. They are and always will be purity, goodness and light.

I, however, had a grimy shop-rag shoved at me. On it, my destiny was scrawled in black grease. It said, "vile beast."

These are ancient traditions, q. You must stop questioning, lest you find yourself sacrificed to the volcano (or whatever is available in your area). I can see you've already experienced a vicious equivalent in many ways, so it doesn't matter if you question now; that's just part of the mythology...

I don't know why they attribute such wicked things to others that they alone come up with in their abnormally vindictive and putrified minds. I'm at your blog here because I can only sort of make sense of this. I need commiseration with normalcy (or is this actually an aberration?). I guess it's easy to pretend to be snow white and pure if every disgusting thing you think, you let rip like silent-but-deadly gas. Waving and wafting it toward people you've deemed, at best, to have the qualities of an outhouse. While you scurry over to get another cup of punch, everyone will notice the stench, but few will know how it came to be; just who's still sitting in it. I didn't know enough to move. (I guess the stink had become familiar.)

Mommy-dearest wasn't overly verbal about sexual things, she might broach the subject and then just think weird shit, glaring at me while she did. Oh, but she knew what I was thinking! hahahaha! Her mother though, would dive right into sexual topics and warn Mommy-dearest she'd better keep an eye on me. (She called me "that one".) I just sat there with my coloring book, listening to them jabber on, venom dripping from their teeth.

The lack of acknowledgement that we were just kids really gets to me as an additional layer of abuse, but I guess that's one of the reasons they talked to us that way, they didn't see us as children. It's like they were just thinking out loud in our presence. Whatever. Most kids couldn't have possibly been able to process such adult concepts even if they'd heard about them; there was no context yet. OTOH, they seemed to know we were children in that they freely took advantage of us not knowing better than to just take their abuse. I don't know, I get confused if I ponder too long.

On a lighter note, she told me she never wanted me. She actually came out and said that when I was much older, but all my life she would express it in anger. I think her words were, "I wish you'da never been born!" She made an effort every single day for me to carry, thereby become, her darkest thoughts as far back as I can remember.

I was third of four kids. When kid two died as a youngster, she said, "the wrong one died." Just a guess, but since I was the one standing in front of her when she said it, I don't think she was referring to either of her two favorite angelfood cake-like sugar cookies with yummy cream cheese frosting, kid one and kid four. I'll go ahead and say it here for clarity (wink): She meant me, the "worthless piece of shit".

Thanks for your effort to work the title of a Beatles song into the mix. Nice little catch-all. And the fourth, fifth, thirty-fifth trimester; why not give-up already, we're clear about their feelings. I guess they don't learn too fast and seem to me to be just gluttonous at this point.

q1605 said...

I had a bit of an epiphany last night watching "The Graduate"
If the comment is not quite a seamless fit it's because the whole thing was written in after thought and like the Beatles song I am forcing it where the natural conversation didn't steer it to.
I usually hate movies that attempt to portray the true nature of the
sociopath. Because they turn them into some caricature that betrays
their true nature. Or at least that of my mother. They bounce from
bloodthirsty brain eaters like Hannibal Lecture who have blood vessels
dangling from their mouth's to the people that cheat on college exams
with no remorse. But it was right in front of me the whole time. Mrs
Robinson on the Graduate is my mother. She calmly ruins her daughters
relationships and wedding and fucks her daughters fiance and her
husbands business partner as calmly as she lights up a smoke. You see
the disconnect in her eyes as she orchestrates one chaotic event after
another. But look close enough and you see that smug satisfaction of
being the architect of everyone's demise. That is my mother. She had
no real life outside of swilling gin and smoking and stepping on
everyone around her. Out side of the drinking and smoking she could be
a carbon copy of my mother. Sitting around and blaming boredom for
her lack of boundaries while she had ample resources to build a real
life off of the tennis court.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-3lKbMBab18

RazedbyPD said...

Isn't it weird when you see something so obvious that it knocks you over like that? A lot of relatable material there, huh? "She had ample resources to build a real life off of the tennis court." Except for a conscience. She lacked that one little resource, negating her ability to "build" anything. From what I've gathered, eventual destruction is the motivation, framework and ultimate goal with sociopaths. If they "build" anything, there's always manipulation for the backup plan, ensuring they end up taking it all for themselves in some way, shape or form in the end. They spend so much 'down-time' slithering around in the recesses of their minds, searching for what they can perceive as new weaknesses out there to exploit.

Your "mother" was a very spooky woman. (I'm sure I don't need to tell you that.) Your descriptions of her everyday behaviors can read like those of a dumb narc or BPD, etc..., but there was clearly much, much more that was calmly calculating and sinister going on. (Oh, I don't know, like murder!) Makes me shiver to think of you having to rely on that for anything. I'm sorry that was your world. And for its aftermath.

I haven't had the pleasure of personally knowing a sociopath that I'm aware of. Most NPDs and BPDs in my life have been adequate to really mess-up my ability to see reality till waaaay later. I hate that, a lot, actually. So I'm glad when something or someone gives me a kind of mental shoulder shake, telling me to take a second look. There's so much sorting to do after the fact. It's like every interaction needs to have my own feelings and thoughts removed so I can see, oh, that's what that was! Then I have to put all my thoughts and feelings back in so I can see how normal I actually was. What?!! How much time does anyone have for that kind of exercise? It could take a whole other lifetime! Or two! Epiphanies are definitely helpful.

I'm guessing you didn't mind that moment, watching The Graduate, even though you've been looking into old lizardlady for a long time. You still got the, oh, that's what she was! Maybe it's a good thing that it takes a long time to understand the lizard brain because, well, it's so lizard-like. I just can't get past my own disbelief at how much I still don't know about how, why and by what creature it was that we were set up for such laser-focused abuse. And, most disturbingly, that we really can never really make them pay for it, for all the reasons you well know.

q1605 said...

Here is an old post describing my mother.

http://rumblestripq.blogspot.com/2011/12/get-off-of-my-cloud.html

I think it was you (Razed) that had a comment about how as she/you grew older she/you sort of split into two psyches. One was adult like but the other could drag you back to that inner child ready to be dressed down by Mommie dearest I could scroll up and check but it takes me longer each day (to pull out of my morning stupor)So forgive my laziness. But the gist of it was how both sides of your personality suffered. Later it made me think of a book called "Flowers for Algernon" It's about a guy who was born very mentally challenged and eventually joined in an experiment in which these doctors preformed surgery on him and it unlocked the defective ways the proteins in his brain were folded that made him dysfunctional. But he went from non functional to genius level in a matter of months. So much so that he out did the people who "fixed" him. He had worked at a Bakery and thought he was well liked. But as his intellect progresses he realizes that the people he thought were his friend kept him around to play tricks on him and they were not laughing with him they were laughing at him. And his knowledge progresses to to the point it becomes a total role reversal in that he intimidates them more than anything else. But the whole ride up the scale, when ever he either drinks too much or tries to interact with women or really any thing that blurs intellect with human emotion his old self rises up and he can't handle it. So like before he acts in ways that undermine his successful interaction with normal people. He even talk as if that alter ego steps out side of himself and can actually be looking in at him like a third party participant.
I am going to leave a couple of quotes from the book because if wasn't you it sounds like me in that I identify with this level of out of sorted-ness. After a family member commits suicide people treat you different and they are not trying to be unkind they just know how to act with you. What ends up happening is you start feeling very alone even in a crowd of people. Blah blah blah I am reaching my limit of trying to sound like I have a point to make. Other than you should check it out. It was made into a movie called Charley and it's good.

q1605 said...

https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/3337594-flowers-for-algernon

“A child may not know how to feed itself, or what to eat, yet it knows hunger.”
― Daniel Keyes, Flowers for Algernon

“How strange it is that people of honest feelings and sensibilty, who would not take advantage of a man born without arms or legs or eyes—how such people think nothing of abusing a man with low intelligence.”
― Daniel Keyes, Flowers for Algernon

“I don’t know what’s worse: to not know what you are and be happy, or to become what you’ve always wanted to be, and feel alone.”
― Daniel Keyes, Flowers for Algernon

These are ones that jumped out at me. I gave you a link but the words hit home much closer in the context of the book.

RazedbyPD said...

You were right. It was one of my dilemmas I put out there. Thank you for the link. I'll check it out for sure. BTW, do you remember how fucking unnerving it was to realize they never laughed with you when you related crazy experiences, but were always laughing AT you?!!! My cheeks blush just recalling those moments of clarity. And that sadistic laughter came at me from the faces of the most lazy, uninspired, stupid (tho not low IQ), unmotivated, depressed, fearful, bigoted, stunted (did I say stupid?) people I've yet to meet anywhere else in my travels, jobs or while pursuing simple interests. (Well, there was that one bitch in the PTA... oh, and the charge nurse at that one job... and... ;) ) Yet, that was what I was supposed to call "going home". The whole idea of feeling like two people or even a third as observer is a trip; a lot like that really uncomfortable time when I said yes to shrooms. I really appreciate you thinking about this and shining a light on it. Thanks again.

RazedbyPD said...

PS I contradicted myself by calling maternal "grandmother" a psychopath and then saying I didn't really know of one in my life. She wasn't one. Just another BPD, NPD, APD, WTFPD with psychopathic tendencies, that was the closest I'd come to the likes of your "mother". She was too desperate and reactionary to be a true socio/psychopath. She was mean and nasty, like an old lady who would stop watering the roses to spray kids with the garden hose for looking at her while walking past her property. She couldn't connive her way out of a wet paper bag.

q1605 said...

Sometimes it's impossible to keep it all straight. There is always some gender disagreement that I either catch later or not at all. It really gets hard and it's our story. I used to mention that when they shot at the guy they killed I had to start wording it better. I used to say they shot him in the back and it's lucky they didn't shoot into the windows of the house behind him. One of my blog friends pointed out that shooting a guy in the back and hitting the house behind him would be a neat trick. For a second I just had to look at it and say "indeed it would". And I thought more about it since I had lived there and knew how the buildings lined up etc(and knowing the cops dug bullets out of the shutters in the house across the street) And it gelled. The guy was hauling ass to get away from them so when they shot at him the bullets whizzed by the victim and hit what he was running toward. She is a good friend that I talk to in email but it go's to show how easily things can not appear to be what they seem. If the concrete dynamics of bullets and their trajectory can get muddied up what chance do things like genders and the have to stay straight. In my family we are mostly from the same county and until you get to my mother we had a bunch of cousins and aunts and uncles and a robust family tree. But when you look at the time my mother appeared the family tree looks more like a fence post. If we don't die before our time we choose to not bring children into the world. Years ago I had vowed that these genes would end with me and got the snip. My sister has a son who has a three year old and they have a nice nuclear family going over there, But it is despite my mothers presence not because of it.

q1605 said...

BTW, do you remember how fucking unnerving it was to realize they never laughed with you when you related crazy experiences, but were always laughing AT you?!!! My cheeks blush just recalling those moments of clarity.
Boy Howdy! That's why I ramped up my letter writing to her. I finally figured out my murdering promiscuous cold blooded mother was making me a pariah. So I said the throwing stones part of this war will begin........What does he say in Julius Ceaser? Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war! There are things I sent her that I can't post because it violated the Terms of Service agreement with Google. This police chief here looked she screwed for years looked like a popular buffoonish leader of a local children's show and I would just mock the shit out of her and send it to her in the mail. I knew what friends of hers were screwing guys behind their husbands back and sent telling them who and when it was going on. I guess I should have left them out of it but it's too late baby it's too late.
I doubt she ever had anyone unload on her like I did, but I got 50 plus years of pent up rage out in a couple of months. My favorite and the one that google would cut my account for was I found a site with pictures of women doing the nasty with stray dogs so I pasted pictures and put a caption that read somebody get a bucket of ice water and a broom Barbara's in heat again. HAHAHAHAH I crack my self up. This I just sent to her and not her friends. I may be crazy but I am not stupid. If I ever become a commerce sight that one alone would probably pay for my retirement.

RazedbyPD said...

q, I just read your travel log of a 6yo...

q1605 said...

All I can say is it's the glorious results of a misspent youth. Or I can follow the lead of my mother and ex wife and say PROVE IT WAS ME! If all you have is something someone claiming to be me might have written you have no case. My cat likes to walk on my keyboard and it might have accidentally hit all the keys in the right sequence. You know the ten thousand monkey defense where you give an infinite number of chimpanzees infinite time and sooner or later they will produce a work of Shakespearean tragedy. For your time I will however give you this video taken at my mothers murder trial at no extra cost. It was before my mother had her sex change and joined the counter culture
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8a3mk9sp0oE

q1605 said...

While I have your attention I am going to add this clip from Charley. I forgot how sad it is. Alger-non is the name of the mouse that was the test subject to base the procedures on before they preformed it on humans. The mouse eventually dies a horrible death and Charley now knows that the same fate is to befall him. So in one fell swoop he coexists as a genius all while knowing he is doomed to lose the ground he covered and end up worse than where he started. As he sees and feels dementia closing in on him he asks the woman he at one point was romantically involved with to take some of his money and buy flowers and put them on the mouses grave after Charley himself will be dead.
Its fraught with symbolism and an undercurrent of psychology. It basically asks you would you rather know the absolute best truth you can know or would you rather remain ignorant of your situation. It asks if gaining all this functionality is really worth it. Sort of like talking to people that will never go No Contact. Are they better off than those of us that do? I can't imagine what things would have been like not going NC but really none of us have a choice. We will all die and that's about as NC as you get. There are a lot of people that (I think) blur the line between hate and No contact. For those who lived with a horrible person who view it as more of a survival tactic. My father kept his head in the sand and by the time he pulled it out he was so far gone death seemed the better way out. Somewhere in all of us is that small child still resides hoping for a sliver of humanity to cling to to try and make it all seem OK. Until my mother died My hard drive ran from sun up to sun down. It hasn't changed that much now. I am like a speed freak trying to put together a jig saw puzzle with too many pieces missing for it to come together. Like I said further up if you are looking for answers I am in short supply I wouldn't tell you to blow off your parents even if I could. It's all a very personal decision that you will have to make for yourself.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fLW9JM8GaK0

RazedbyPD said...

Hi q. I just had a comment all typed up and ready to send... computer locked up on the word "miscreant" so, that's probably all you need to know about that post. lol.

The movie clip was sad. It's like learning the world as we have known it may be on a trajectory into extreme chaos and deadly upheaval as each system's fa├žade is removed and evaluated honestly. Do we want to have the knowledge and try to prepare for that? Pretty much too overwhelming to think about the big picture, but I like having the information usually, at least to contemplate the variables.

I subscribe to No Contact anytime, in as many situations as possible now. I like to think of using it like salt and pepper when I'm cooking. It's not an act of hate from me (but I can stir up my hatred pretty easily); it's hate from them that pushes me to No Contact. It's more non-forgiveness (not that they'd see it that way) for the unforgiveable. Unforgiveable to me is anything equivalent or even similar to betrayal, small-group ambush, any cruelty toward people who don't originate hostility, withholding kindness and common decency, smearing or casting doubt upon another's character, and my favorite, launching an unprovoked, blatant insult in public and laughing out loud like a psychotic fool. (I'd like to mark 'em with a scarlet letter equivalent for that one.)

Funny, I've noticed that the family members I've stopped contacting have never tried to get ahold of me for an explanation... Guess they WERE just one-way street relationships. Good. Because I'm a big chicken and won't confront people when I've been carrying around a gunny-sack of their misdeeds; that could quickly get too nutty and out of control. I'm most comfortable with the fade-to-zero approach. I still have card and gift contact with a few extended family strays and one immediate still calls; I haven't quite figured out how to shake that one without "a scene"... I don't answer very often and I never call first; email has ceased as well.

Many people who don't know where we stand have been getting the slow fade, but they'll be clear when I don't show up at another event, funeral, wedding or whatever. I guess that might end up being be "a scene". It seems kind of shitty to do that without explanation, definitely not like me to do that, but they probably won't ask, just smear. I've been so dishonestly and unreasonably represented as shit my whole life; a totally fucked-up hallucination of traits dumped on me to carry around as though it makes perfect sense. When they started to include my immediate family members in their lying, thieving, anti-social delusions (although less directly, thankfully), that's when I swore I'd never knowingly walk into the FOO viper pit ever again. Emphasis on knowingly...

They'd still try to hurt me if they had a chance to pull it off (see my fart analogy above). I'm a chicken for confrontation, but not a coward like them and certainly not nearly as mean. I may quite not have it in me to go all "q" on them, but I'd have to assess the circumstances (wink). I prefer, at this point, to just keep moving away from the remaining relationships; to continue to sort this stuff out without new stuff popping up. HA! Don't we all!?!

RazedbyPD said...

continued...
None of them can stand me or my family. They've all used me and my family members and taken advantage of our collective live and let live nature. They've spent an inordinate amount of time downgrading us to others as proof we don't deserve kindness in return. Oh well. We must've done something right? Whose entire family turns against them without reason? Wait, let me have a shot at the answer... An entire family of miscreants who marry other miscreants and have little babies trained to be miscreants! There, I've almost recreated my previous, deleted blog comment. :)

From what I can figure out, there really aren't answers for us or real help for what we're up against. It's helpful to be here. It's nice to hash it out, connect with another heart and mind. If there are answers, they'd be as likely to show up here on your blog as anywhere, eventually.

q1605 said...

I am having memory issues over here both with my noggin and my computer so If I drop out of sight that is why.
I will say if they don't like you, you are doing something right. My mothers favorite way to drub me was to call me a mark as in the victim of a con man mark. The only two things I can tell that drew her ire to me was that I would give people ( the guy specifically) was one of her neighbors sons a ride to the bus station and If you haven't heard I have a bit of a checkered past. I was on a bus with a guy that just got out of prison and he had been in so long that all the money had changed styles along with the cars that people drove etc and I gave him enough money to buy lunch because the state just dumped him out on the street with only a bus ticket to a half way house. She literally followed me around the house draping her self in my field of vision telling me I was going to end up killed and dumped on the side of the road. Which if you remember was exactly what her and her boyfriend did to the guy they robbed. There was that registered sex offender living with her She also had a guy living on her couch that did 17 years on a 50 year sentence for sexual assault. and her house backs up to the parking lot of a grade school. We live in Texas but you till have to have done something pretty bad to draw a 50 year sentence even if they parole you out after 17. I wish people would consider the cause and effect. I used to act like I was the cops she called on me for writing her nasty letters. So one cop asks her(This is fiction and I am role playing)
Cops:
So miss Hart you say your son just suddenly went berserk and started making this stuff up and sending you letters for no reason at all.
Her:
That's right officer I did nothing to warrant these unfounded attacks.
Cops:
Would you like us to send an officer around to do a well check since this is something new and he might need to be seen by a doctor.
Her:
No I just want you to arrest him and club him with your night stick and taze him while you drag him off and throw him under the jail.
Cops:
I see, and as they walk to the car they are both muttering under their breath about what a cunt she probably is and how it all makes sense. In that it wasn't a sudden thing the poor slob (me) has probably been listening to this shit for years.
My computer is signaling me for a time out and there are two things I don't argue with narcissists and inanimate objects. I guess that is redundant because narcissists ARE inanimate objects. My sister had a friend the beat his father to death with his bare hands and only did eight years. You just KNOW there is a story behind that. But it makes me want to go back and slap the shit out of my mother but the powers that be got to her first. If I could have gotten the same deal I would have paroled out long ago.

q1605 said...

I cut a sentence out and pasted it in a different spot and it screwed my continuity up but it's still decipherable. Sorry.

q1605 said...

Yeah there are a lot of people that subscribe to the school of Don't Worry Be Happy! After a life with that bitch I don't think I know what that word means much less how to be that way in life. For one thing happy is a feeling I could never trust. If someone was showing out ward signs of happiness it was my mothers signal like blood to a shark. Just snif snif someone is having a joy felt moment time for me to rage and put a stop to this non sense before this day gets a second older.

q1605 said...

Another thing is it is impossible to get the point across to others is that when you say mother to most people they conjure up some matronly woman rolling out bread dough for biscuits and putting dabs of whipped cream on wedges of pumpkin pie. That ain't who we got. We got the one that grabs her daughters husbands crank under the table and this is a true story( tells my wife to tell me) while she is in the hospital that I (me) can bring women to her house and bone them and she will make sure she (my wife) doesn't hear about it. This is as close as I can get to what Joanna Ashmun called the water running up hill effect where they do/say something so crazy that by the time it settles in the topic has moved on and they just sit there and watch you doubt yourself that there is no way she just said what she just said even though you just heard them say it. Read that again if you need to. My mother told my wife to tell me to use her house for a place to screw and she wouldn't tell the person she is saying she won't tell. It just doesn't get any better than this. That was designed to create conflict and an argument no matter who interpreted what and how they interpreted it. THEY ARE FUCKING CRAZY PERIOD but if you treat them like they are crazy they will make you sorry you were ever born. (like you aren't already) Joanna has passed on but her site was the one that I bumped into and stopped and said this is her this is my mother. Luckily my wife had figured her out to be bat shit loon and didn't take the bait.
http://www.halcyon.com/jmashmun/npd/

mulderfan said...

Reading that newspaper story made me feel nauseous and dizzy. To be honest, nor for the poor victim but, for you and your sister who lived through this shit.
How the fuck did you ever get this outta your heads and move on? Sadly, the answer is you never completely "recover". Just like losing someone you truly loved, you don't, as my mother ordered after my husband died, "get over it", you just cope with it as best you can.
I'm constantly in awe of how you rose above this shit and became the man I'm proud to call my friend.

q1605 said...

That's why me and sis couldn't be swayed to turn away from each other. For almost 20 years we were the only sane one's under that roof. Last night I was thinking about how Narcs are so adept at what they do. Name someone else who can drive a bulldozer through everything you hold dear and still make you feel like you should apologize to them for the shame of being their target.

RazedbyPD said...

Hi q. The cop conversation was very effective. I liked your role-playing there; made perfect sense of your situation. I can understand your rage; even though I don't really feel things the same way. When fight or flight takes over, my face blushes and I'm scrambling for the nearest exit. (Blushing is such a curse when dealing with these types.) I figure your intense inclination to fight as it relates to the guy taking out his dad with his bare hands, is a similar intensity to my inclination to run. Escape! Guess I'm more like the woodland creatures who hide in the thick underbrush of the forest.

I was trained to never express anger; I did, but it never really went anywhere but down. I'm pretty uncomfortable around it. Mommy-dearest had no problem cornering me so she could let it rip in my face. She was quite the rager behind closed doors. Siblings assumed I must have done something to deserve it so they were safe as her favorites. She'd never do it around Mr. Mommy-dearest, she was afraid of him (to his face). But if I even had a twinge of anger rising in my expression when I was young, I was smacked for being "an ungrateful wretch", "a selfish bitch", then raged at till she got it all out of her system, in my face. It was never considered that I might have a rational complaint; well, shit no! Eventually, I stopped experiencing even intense anger, I confused it with fear and that's where my emotions still sit today.

My point is, I feel like they stir up the most basic animal instincts in us since that's all they can interpret in themselves. Sophistication equals new ways to manipulate and agitate the basic instincts of others. They don't grow or experience challenge and purposeful commitment. They never really overcome inertia in order to do for the sake of doing, improving themselves or the lives of others. I think everything with their inert selves is for appearances only. They only do things so they don't get caught NOT doing them, only through some perceived competitive motivation to one-up. Not to become better more affable and enjoyable people. Nope, instead, they despise others for having their own new experiences, accomplishments and interests for sure. You said it when you said, your "mother" sees someone else's happiness as a shark senses blood in the water. Great analogy.

Oh, what's this? The invitation to The Annual Christmas Party just came in the mail! Why, let's have a look: There's going to be loads of fun! Quite the buffet table, holiday music, board games, and you can bring your favorite dish to share! Aww. Sounds like fun! Yeah, we won't be there.... again. Haven't been in 22 years, why break with tradition now? Ho Ho Ho!

q1605 said...

At anytime they could have called the cops and even if he died they would have easily given them a lessor included charge. Man slaughter or what have you. But no. They left him there to die which upped the ante exponentially. But why bother my mother had my father and his band of barking seals to get her out of her jamb. At the end of the day that's what pisses me off. Everyone in that house had to be effected as bad as she was but we didn't have a choice. Me at age 8 and my sister at 15 would have nipped it in the bud and said call the police. But no one listened to us. No one asked us. Hell we didn't connect everything that happened at the house with the story my dad was telling us about his boss getting robbed and killed until they came to arrest her.

q1605 said...

That blood is now on the hands of my ex. And my fathers blood too.

q1605 said...

I don't think I get the concept behind viruses and mal-ware. Buy our products or we will turn your computer into a boat anchor and make it run like a rusty chain saw. Well why didn't you tell me, I will send you all my cash to a Nigerian off shore account. That's my way of saying my computer crashes more often than it runs well.

q1605 said...

Maybe it's testosterone. May be it is her standing on my neck my whole life to keep her head above her own shit. Looking back I can't believe I did and said some of those things. I am usually considered a nice guy but when you are recounting her madness to her and she just dismisses it with a wave of her hand and a childish "I know you are but what am I". I just finally flipped a switch. That's what started this whole post was the tick box my sister sent me that says you can't look at her life time achievement award and call her anything BUT crazy. She had the money she got from selling the farm and immediately turned it into a high stakes game of keep away. I would so love to hear her and my ex dog me out. It probably sounded like junk yard dogs fighting over a bone.

q1605 said...

Razed I think you are on to something. Sort of back handed mirroring. They never do anything that is spontaneous or for the right reason. They sit back and calculate their whole image for a desired affect we can't see. There is a blog on my side bar From Karen Placek and I am going to butcher this but something about the secret of the universe is choice. Narcissists have one. (this is my words) that if they didn't know they were doing the wrong thing they wouldn't lie about what they do. blah blah blah but that's the way I interpret it. (And now back to your words).
"My point is, I feel like they stir up the most basic animal instincts in us since that's all they can interpret in themselves. Sophistication equals new ways to manipulate and agitate the basic instincts of others. They don't grow or experience challenge and purposeful commitment. They never really overcome inertia in order to do for the sake of doing, improving themselves or the lives of others. I think everything with their inert selves is for appearances only. They only do things so they don't get caught NOT doing them, only through some perceived competitive motivation to one-up. Not to become better more affable and enjoyable people"

q1605 said...

Razed You write very well if you ever want me to post something let me know.

RazedbyPD said...

Hi q. Thanks. But I think my writing looks like the way I live with this 'secret'; all packaged-up by an organizer with this shit neatly stacked in boxes at the back of the closet. I've spent years making excuses for the truth, ignoring it in order to cope, but never forgetting the details of the abuse and its damage to me. I know I would cry a lot more over all the loss and even fall apart if I didn't remain contained and it shows in how I write, I think.

This is a great blog. I like your music choices and the metaphorical pieces you dig up and put together to post here. The way you share your own thoughts on your experiences, showing us the sadness, anger while being entertaining and hopeful all at the same time, well, its a gift; in spite of it all. When you're being "crude", it's more like poetic seasoning (lol-new term) because you're smart. You're deep and charming.

And thanks for the providing the hang out. I appreciate "the session", to drone on. I'll try to just comment like a normal person from now on. I'll be around. Thanks again, q.
PS I think they're charging $300.00 for initial psych consultations now... FYI :)

q1605 said...

Are you reading the same blog I have been writing? I have had some health issues that make me feel like I am not the same person who started here. Suffice it to say there are plenty of people that my death would make them smile, so for now let me leave it at that. I think we share the same imagery and metaphor lobe of the brain. I always thought of all the sordid details I had vowed to take to my grave as a bunch of disorganized thought that could only take form and be sorted out by being contained in a box and stacked in a musty old corner of the attic. But that thinking is what ended up emboldening my mother because she only thinks in terms of what have you not called me on lately. Like there is a statute of limitations on inflicting a horrible child hood on your kids. She left me at my grandmothers at he age of 15 and pretty well drove off. But she neglected to download up dates (if you will) of what her son became as he got older. I can't be bought and that's the only tactic she knows. She hordes everything and holds it over every bodies heads thinking we will capitulate. Guess again dingle berry. What it took that 15 year old kid to survive was the opposite of what you think it was like for me. Bullshit is bullshit and I will call it every time I see it. And honey (mom) bullshit is coming out your ears. And you calling it peanut butter and jelly isn't going to entice me to take a bite.
As unique as I felt my story was/is it's tame by today's standards. I mean how many ways can you say "gun went boom," "man buried before he started to smell bad"?

q1605 said...

I was rereading my sisters comment and she hit it so spot on. Other than me and her I can't name a single person who lost parents independently of the other and neither of them attending a funeral because the surviving parent was having a tantrum. I am sure it happens, but lightening always seemed to single our house out from the crowd.

RazedbyPD said...

Yes, q. I'm reading the same blog. Sure seems like people care about you here. (See Mulderfan's comment above.) Sorry you're having health problems to contend with. I sure wish that wasn't the case. Cyber-people have an awkward time when it comes to lending a hand. Is this something you're able to managing with medical treatment? I'm really sorry you're having to deal with this.

q1605 said...

Man I just had a ridiculously long comment that got eaten. Let me try this again. I am so much better than I was a couple of years ago because of my wife's most excellent insurance. It seems there are two types of back stabbers. One kind stabs you just to watch you bleed and the other kind that stabs you and realizes their betrayal. But instead of not doing they bury it up in your back anyway and find ways to justify their actions by demonizing the person they knifed. Most of my so called friends fell into the latter category. They were hoping my mother would throw some farm money their way so they sided with her and knifed me and told themselves I was a bastard and gimme some loot. By the time they figured out any loose change was going to be hoovered by my ex they had sold me out. So I don't trust really any body from my old life. My mother was so good at Darvo. Google it. That was what I think crashed my computer and my answer to you . Trying to get you a link. It's basically Deny Reverse Victim order. etc. it sort of attacking the messenger while not addressing the message.
Moms friend: Well your son said what???
Mom:he said : x y and z but we know he smokes pot so you can't believe a word out of his mouth. And so on and so on ad infinitum. By the end, I think she got to everybody I ever knew.

Anonymous said...

I definitely heartily agree with q and razed that the other is very good at writing and they contribute greatly to sorting out this weird category of experience. It sure helps. --quartz

q1605 said...

They say that one of the defining characteristics of being raised by a narcissist is a marked inability to accept compliments graciously. So you guys need to cut it out so me and razed don't feel the need to go out and get tazed. Don't taze me bro.

q1605 said...

I really think this is strange tho. People in America are so geared to think of mothers as good hearted allies they they just don't get it. And that we in our hyper-forgiving state will do all kind of mental calisthenics to not have to accept the truth that they hated us for them bringing us into this world. That's probably the hardest part for people to understand. But she's your mother. That doesn't preclude them hating us. But this and but that. If I was arrested for the things my mother did I would have been sentenced to death and my mother would have paid for the chance to flip the switch. Why?..... just because that's why. Good to see you around Quartz. I almost invoked your name on one of the comments here but couldn't remember what you said close enough to try and quote you. I think it was a comment you made one time about you wondered how many homeless people could be traceable to one narcissist parent or another.

q1605 said...

I said America but this problem is definitely global.

Anonymous said...

The homeless people remark sounds like it could have been Peep (now I'm using my husband's computer instead of the kindle, so I get to use capital letters in the middle of the sentence). --quartz

q1605 said...

When you're right you're right and I think you are right. Let me go into temporary Narc mode. Since Peep isn't here to defend herself I am sure it was her.

RazedbyPD said...

Hi q. Today I've had to get some jobs done that I've promised others and I'm on a little bit of a deadline. Wanted to say hi tho and thanks again before I get back to it. You and Quartz gave me a little laugh. I thought of the cartoon chipmunks, Chip and Dale(?), with all their complimenting, thanking each other and saying, "after you," "oh no, after you," etc... Then they go on to stir up trouble. "Don't taze me bro!" lol! :)

q1605 said...

Chip and Dale.......If you knew how many times I wanted to try and find clips from that and didn't know what to google. They lived on a corporate farm and periodically had huge machinery come through and they would almost get run over. I loved that song from when the thing would drive through do do do doodle do do. And right after, the big thresher would come through and they would have to hit the deck. Thanks man!

q1605 said...

Er um girl.

RazedbyPD said...

Hi q. Here's that song, I think. It gets recognizable for the cartoon-minded at about 1:12 min.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qaC0vNLdLvY

q1605 said...

Thats it! I don't think I knew enough about it to google it and actually find it. I watched Fargo right after that and I kept thinking that people that live that far North seem to have acquired "Chip and Dale" syndrome. Der ya go now! Ya can't be running a woman through da wood chipper just to shut her up doncha no. I like Margie's words at the end. It makes me think of my mom. How she says "Dat's a lot of lives for just a little bit of money". If my mom had to pay for her defense I am sure she might have done it all differently. But she had her menagerie of barking seals at her disposal. Not wanting to be part of her side show was irrelevant. If you didn't contribute voluntarily they would just steal it from you (Me and sis)so I will start focusing on the fact that we really had no choice.

q1605 said...

But all in all chip and dale were good times on Saturday Mornings. When we only had three channels on TV and had to smack the side of the set while you adjusted the rabbit ears.