Tags
anger, anxiety, anxious, depression, Emotional Abuse, Mental Health, Mental Illness, Parents, suicidal ideation, suicidal thoughts, suicide
I don’t know how coherent this is going to be so please forgive me in advance.
Our parents gave us every advantage in life. And they worked their asses off to do it. Both of them grew up poor. Mother’s family was just straight up poor and Father’s father was a minister and while the church gave them a place to live, salary was sometimes paid in the form of chickens in the early years. Plus, Poppop squirreled away cash when he got it. They lived poor partially on purpose. Which is a good thing because Mommom is now 97 and has money to live on.
But, my parents didn’t want to live poor, so they worked their asses off. Father was a pharmacist and in the mid 70’s he was able to buy a drug store in a city an hour away from where we lived. In the 80’s he bought out his partner. Every day a 2 hour round trip, and when snow threatened he got a room in a hotel close to the store so he could open even in bad weather. When I graduated from high school, they moved closer to the store and the house they built rivaled Tara from Gone with the Wind.
Brother and I had things growing up. We got the gaming systems as they came out and we must have had 30 games for our Atari. We got a computer in the 80’s. We had piles of clothes, we went to a great school, I got a car when I turned 16.
But, underneath, we felt like nuisances. Growing up was difficult for me and Brother. The picture of the perfect family was complete and as long as you didn’t scratch the surface too hard, it held. But dig just a little deeper and the dysfunction was blinding.
My mother is a masterful con artist. She can take the words you say, twist them and hand them back to you and you will wonder why you were so horrible to say what you didn’t say. She also has the most amazing selective memory that I have ever encountered.
We were generally not spanked as children, although when we were Brother always got the belt. Mother will tell you that we were never ever ever hit as children. Ever. However, I remember quite vividly cowering in a corner as she hit me over and over with the first thing her hands touched, which happened to be one of those heavy duty plastic brushes with the really stiff bristles. My crime? I wanted to explain myself.
I became a prolific liar. We were never allowed to just talk to our parents. We obey. Period. End of story. The word “why” would get you grounded for a month. Trying to explain why you asked “why” would get you another month. God forbid I was in a play during this time of grounding. Days before the performances I would be told that I couldn’t perform. I would say that I had some minor breakdowns back then. I would always end up being able to go onstage but the stress I experienced waiting for permission was nearly more than I could handle.
I went to college. I didn’t want to, but it wasn’t up to me. I was the first person ever on my mother’s side of the family to have the opportunity, but I didn’t want it. I had no idea what I wanted to do and I didn’t see the point on spending money on something that I didn’t want. I joined a sorority because Mother wanted me to. And I got tired of being lectured about it, so I joined one that was having a spring rush, so I didn’t have to go through all the craziness of full blown sorority rush season. However, once I got there Mother didn’t want to pay the fees. She did, but she bitched and moaned for months after she wrote the check.
Midway through the spring semester of my junior year, I quit school. I didn’t tell my parents I was quitting, but I stopped going to classes and used my dorm room as a temporary place to stay until the semester ended. I was burned out, and the latest disagreement between my parents and me ended with the following dictate. “You will live at home during the summer and work. You will follow the rules of our house. And you will transfer to a local college and pay your own way”. I figured if I was going to pay my own way, I may as well do it making myself happy.
I attempted suicide when I was a teenager. I just took about 20 pills from my parents medicine cabinet. I fell asleep, but I think most of them were probably vitamins or something else innocuous. I didn’t tell them till I was much older.
My brother turned to drugs and was emancipated at 16. To my parents credit, they did try to help him, but since they were a big part of the problem, that didn’t work so well.
I have managed to build my boundaries. She still has the ability to send me from a room crying if she chooses to, but I keep rebuilding my boundaries (thank God for therapists) and they’ve been holding for a very long time.
But Brother called last night and everything came crashing down. He has had a lot of legal problems recently. He had gotten help from someone with his business and then this unscrupulous person sued my brother, saying that my brother was stealing and took him to court. Legal fees ran high but the case was thrown out this week with prejudice (so this person cannot sue again). Mother and Father said “oh..cool” when told about this victory. Brother had received a check from some job he had done and used it to pay a variety of bills he was behind with. He went to my parent’s house last night to help them with something and he asked my father for advice. Apparently assuming that Brother had blown his paycheck on crap, Father told Brother that he “didn’t know, maybe you should have just killed yourself.”
…..
…..
…..
Brother called me immediately to let me know what happened from his point of view. Because he wanted me to know the truth. I don’t know what mangled version of this I’m going to receive from parents, but I’m devastated. How dare ANYONE say that to another human being. And to say it to your child???? I don’t even know what to do or to think. And I know that the conversation I end up having with my parents is going to be this completely messed up version of the events making my brother out to be a crazy lunatic.
And I don’t know if I’m strong enough to have the conversation in the first place. I’m already in the depression slump of bipolar, but I only slept about 2 hours last night and I’ve got some kind of manic energy behind the tears right now. It’s like I’m getting everything straightened up around the house so that when I’m forced to my bed, everything is done. I’ve never experienced the nesting urge that pregnant women get, but I’d bet it feels something like this.
So, if you are still reading, I thank you. I don’t think I’ve ever done a post this long. And there is so much more to say. The floodgates are open and I don’t know where this flood is going to carry me.
Lady Quixote/Linda Lee said:
Whew… wow… yes. Yes, I get it. The crazy-making behavior of your parents sounds all too familiar. And how nice for them that they can abuse their children, and still be able to pay themselves on the back and say “We gave them every advantage!”
My mother told me the same thing that your father told your brother. I was a young teenager, feeling deeply depressed. I knew my mother understood what that felt like, because she had gone through a terrible depression when her marriage to my dad fell apart. My mother had threatened suicide many times during that awful two year period, and I had pleaded with her not to do it.
Thinking that my mother would understand my feelings and want to repay the favor, I told her one day that I felt like killing myself. And she said, “Well, if you feel that way, you might as well go ahead and do it. I am sure there are enough pills here to do the job.” And then she walked out of the room, leaving me alone in the room that held the medicine cabinet and all the pills.
Evil. That’s what that is. What my mother said was evil. What your father said was evil. It doesn’t get much worse than that, when it comes to parenting.
Thank God your brother has you in his corner!
You mentioned something about planning to call your parents about this today. Are you sure you want to do that? You already know what you will get: outright lies, denial, twisted half truths, justification, gaslighting, and projection. I sure as heck wouldn’t want to put myself through that if I were you.
But of course, you have to follow your own heart.
Maybe if I were in your shoes I might want to call up the dad and say “Congratulations! You just won the Worst Father of the Year award by telling your son to kill himself!” And then hang up before he can say anything.
But…. like I said, you have to follow your own heart.
God bless you. I am saying a prayer for your brother and you right now. There is real evil in the world. But there is also true goodness.
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Leslie said:
I’m not going to call them. I’ve been working manically all morning to get the house sorted and hubby’s dinner made for work, so that when he leaves I can pass out. I intend to leave the phone in the other room.
It’s hard to describe the things that went on and I’ll be writing more about it now I think, because the dam has broken through all the tape and bubblegum we have used to try to keep it together.
I honestly don’t know what to do.
Good thing is that I have pdoc AND therapy tomorrow. I’m pretty sure we’re going to need to adjust the anxiety meds and I definitely need to talk!
Thank you so much for commenting and following…I really appreciate it.
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Lady Quixote/Linda Lee said:
Yay for your therapy and pdoc!
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SassaFrassTheFeisty said:
Strongs to you and Brother. Always a friendly ear here for you ❤
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Leslie said:
Thanks Sass…I really appreciate it.
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SassaFrassTheFeisty said:
Any time Leslie ❤
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morgueticiaatoms said:
My sister and brother walk on water. Never mind my brother was charged with harassment and stalking twice, or that my sister had committed grand theft auto and robbery before she turned 18.
I however am still being held responsible for mistakes made when I was nine.
Parents and their selective memory are the bane of my existence. And when they tell me I am offended only because I am jealous, I wanna stab them with barbwire knitting needles. Wanting to be treated fairly is not being envious.
I feel you so deeply on these family posts. A truckload of hugs coming your way.
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Leslie said:
Thanks Morgue. I need a truckload of hugs. My parents seem to only be able to deal well with one of us at a time. Right now, I’m the one they like, but the depth of the disdain for my brother was really unexpected.
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Just Plain Ol' Vic said:
I don’t even know what to say to this..utterly shocking what parents say and do. However I have a lot of empathy, as I don’t communicate with my parents any more. I feel like raising me was a duty to them but nothing they enjoyed…a burden that they dealt with.
I hope your brother understands that he is a wonderful and unique individual, with a lot to contribute. While your parents may not be in your lives, you both have each other and that can be enough! I know you are feeling depressed but simply by being there for him, there is comfort he can draw from that.
Take Care!
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Leslie said:
I’m glad he called me and told me all this stuff. He actually built a big shed in his backyard where he works on his internet businesses. He pretty much lives in it, because he is TERRIFIED of doing to his kids what was done to us. However, he has a completely open door policy out there and the kids go out there all the time. He has a talk about anything policy as well and they come to talk to him about sex and drugs and everything under the sun which is completely awesome. I so proud of him for raising these kids right, but I’m so sad for him that he felt the need to physically separate himself to do it. I, personally, am thrilled that I never had children to pass this bullshit on to.
My father has said in the past (partially jokingly) that we made it to 18 alive and that meant he did his job well. WTF?
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Just Plain Ol' Vic said:
WTF indeed!
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Pieces of Bipolar said:
WH-H-H-H-Haaaaaat???? My blood ran cold!!! My heart is breaking for you and your brother. Your childhood is slightly similar to mine, so I get where you’re coming from. And I’m familiar with the sleepless-manic faze. It’s really a time you shouldn’t be making decisions or having meaningful discussions with anyone – let alone with abusive parents – your illness has made you vulnerable right now.
What your mother does with the twisting of words is abuse. Its called ‘gaslighting’. You are currently unwell and don’t need to deal with them. If I were in your shoes, I would shut this down right now. There would be no talking about it at all. Your brother knows he has your support and that you believe his truth. That is all that matters really.
This is a matter that is between your father and brother, and doesn’t concern you as far as getting involved with your folks. Your involvement, as a rescuer, is exactly what your parents want and would feed off of. This is a pattern, isn’t it? Gaslighters enjoy getting others upset ie they enjoy abusing people. That’s just sick! It’s why I have cut contact with my father and, besides the obvious guilt which is only human, my life is a lot less complicated.
I know you want to stand up for your brother, but how about standing up for yourself FIRST by putting your own health first. Let him fight this battle and he can come to you for support and comfort. If they phone to discuss the issue, perhaps say something like – I know you’re upset with *insert brother’s name* but I am not involved, it doesn’t concern me and I’m not prepared to talk about it. And if you continue to draw me in I will have no choice but to disconnect this call.
You can’t rescue this situation, as much as you love your brother and are outraged and sickened on his behalf. I hope my opinion hasn’t offended you, this all comes with much love. I just feel you need to protect yourself in this current vulnerable position. How about YOU call the shots for a change? They’ll be angry. But they sound like they are angry about everything all the time anyway. Please protect yourself, Leslie ❤ ❤ ❤
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Leslie said:
Oh Pieces…I am so not offended by what you had to say…I appreciate it so much.
The only reason I’m considering calling my father is that I have been suicidal many many times in my life. I have suicidal ideation now (I am safe and therapist knows). So Father’s comments, while they weren’t made to me, affect me deeply. Because I feel like that could have been me. Mother is probably a narcissist. It’s a thought that has been brewing for a bit now. But, Father, I don’t know. The man does not talk hardly ever. I am considering calling Father directly and talking to him and not involving Mother in the discussion. Karen (therapist) is on board with this decision. However, my parents know that I have therapy Tues and Fri. But this week I have it on Thurs. We also batted around the idea of calling him. on speaker phone, while I was with her. Partly so she could hear from their own lips. Partly so I have support while doing it. Partly because I’m terrified every single time my phone rings and I don’t want to be afraid of my stupid phone.
I don’t know. I go back and forth so many times every day. Now I’m rapid cycling and I’m totally hypo today.
I don’t know. Grrrrr.
❤ ❤ ❤ Love you to Pieces! hee hee
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Pieces of Bipolar said:
I think its a BRILLIANT idea to phone with your therapist present. Not only beneficial to the conversation, but she will also be on hand to help you in the aftermath of the phone call. I know how dreadful the anticipation of conflict is. Put your phone on silent and you won’t even know if they’ve rung. Only after the fact. That way you are able to be more in control, initiating the call on your terms. I’m think of you ❤
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Leslie said:
I’ve got a new post coming later this morning on the aftermath
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