Drama Momma

[noonewhere]

A few years ago, I was suffering neurotoxic psychological affect from an undiagnosed systemic fungal infection (aspergilius),  which made me suddenly lose my freaking mind, my mother scolded me for my sins and informed me that I wasn't crazy. Fine, its true, I'm not particularly crazy. I'm emotionally disturbed, fo' shizzle, existentially depressed, mildly drug addicted, prone to occasional PST shock, and a bit on the poorly socialized side, but all-in-all, the wheels and cogs upstairs spin in unison. Comfortable in my own skin. I have good human interactions. A fairly healthy ego. I like me, I'm pretty cool.

empathy, check.
humility, finally.
conscience, clear(ish).
humor, si.
paranoid ideations, negatori
delusions, minimal.
demonic possession, nyet.

My dear ol' momma didn't stop dispensing the psychiatric diagnoses there though, oh no, she went on to state that WE'RE not crazy, WE just love drama.

Oof! Talk about a blind medicine ball to the belly. I was stupefied, to say the least. Stoooopified. Incapable of speech, as I stood dumbfounded mutely staring at my mother in awe.

Granted, my mother has psychiatric experience aplenty, not only did she pursue a degree in psychology because she was interested in human manipulation, but she had plenty of experiental knowledge from her various hospitalizations for what in the late 1960's was termed Borderline Personality Disorder; though I believe the current diagnosis would be Narcissistic PD.

She was so violent. So self-centered. So petty/mean/cruel. Slash marks defile her wrists. She was locked away the first year and a half of my life, something I didn't know until recently.

She'd turn off the lights and dress like the boogeyman and chase me around until I screamed and screamed.

She'd steal my dessert and hold it over my head to make me cry.

She'd glare at me all evil looking and tell me there was a monster behind her eyes.

She'd decide I had a "look" on my face and backhand me when I wasn't looking.

She'd stab my clothes.

Rip fistfuls of my hair out.

Tease me that she wanted a different kid.

Call me way harsh names. Loser. Loser. Loser.

Lied to me about her "cool" life so I'd perceive myself as a failure in comparison.

etc etc

Then she'd accuse me of hating her. [Doi] Over and over and over and over and over again. Can you say "guilt card" boys and girls?

I was a little kid, man. WTF? If this woman wasn't off-her-nut crazy then what the f*ck was she doing acting like a freakin' psycho?

She rationalizes it by saying she wanted to make me tough. Um, since she studied psychology she should know perfectly well that the response to that behavior is co-dependency.

Or, she's lucky I didn't kill her. Mind you, I'm mostly kidding . . . haha heh.

Pan back to me gaping at mommie dearest in utter abject amazement, reeling in shock at the audacity of this woman; here I was with pus and blood draining from my ear from a lesion on my brain from a mycotoxin that's crossed the blood-brain barrier, a fungal infection that my HMO physician tries to treat with Zoloft, because, gee, I'm depressed and I can't concentrate and my grades are slipping and I have burning hot spots in my left hemisphere with corresponding blindspot in the opposite visual field, and I'm having Zoloft-induced paretial/temporal lobe and jacksonian seizures (only I don't realize they're seizures 'cause I wasn't flopping around) and I'm feeling pretty freakin' freaked up in the freaking head because I really really have physical things going on that is leading me to believe I'm genuinely going crazy but it was just a TIA, not a stroke or anything, ha-freaking-ha-ha and you're not feeling at all insane, Noonewhere, you big drama queen. WE'RE not crazy. WE just like drama. Oh, you all know I was itching to *itchslap her. Hard. Still am.

Flabbergasted. That's a great word. Flabbergasted. Yup. Flabberfreakinggasted.

But, as is her wont, she was correct, or partially so. I'm certainly not as crazy as I probably should be. Then again, I mostly lived with my grandmother. I insisted. I guess I know the devil when I see 'im, or her, as the case may vary.

Thank God I'm a smart lass. heh

And have had good friends.

[bunny]

I'm sorry you had to experience such a nightmarish mother. She sounds  seriously disturbed. I guess that's why she goes into massive denial and tries to sugarcoat, minimize, and dismiss what she's done. And dismisses reality in general.

{{{ keep posting }}}

bunny

[noonewhere]

Thank you {{{Bunny}}} fer the kindly gestures of listening and taking the time to respond to a noonewhere newbie and her newfound voice.  

Archive diving here, seems like a real nice community.

As for nMom from Hell, I'm one of the lucky ones in that I didn't have to live with her too terribly often.  Well, yes, perhaps I did live with her a little too often, but at least it wasn't full time.  Grandma was a real normative influence.

Thanks again for the warm welcome.


no1where

[serena]

Welcome to the forum.  This is a horror story of epic proportions.  You don't sound crazy, but you sure do sound funny!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I hope you never see this lunatic mother ever again and I hope she knows why!!!

Good luck...

[BlueBelle]

Hi noonewhere,

Her use of the term "we" is a sign that she does not see you as a person in your own right.  Everytime she says "we" she is really telling you what she is.  

My mom was quite alot like yours... only I got full benifits from 2-18... This little "Prince Pig" was lucky enough to have been dumped on Grandma for the first two years. My mother was too busy to care for me after work? My siblings who she stayed at home to raise are all cripples and their kids just awful.  I have problems, but they make me look great.

I have found that being 2000+ miles away from her is the best. I actually wrote up a writ of divorce and sent it to her.  But only had the self will to use it for about a year.  I used alot of no contact to get over my anger.  I still can't tell her where to go, so I just don't respond to emails and I don't call.  She uses everything I say to put me down.  Even the good stuff.

I think one of the reasons I liked my DH/N in the beginning years, was that he hated her and she him.  He would tell her to go to h**** for me.  He would screen the phone calls and mail - at my request - and I didn't have to deal with her for years.  

I hope you'll find a way of coping with your mother.  I hope you'll find a group of healthy people to support you and love you.

[miaxo]

Welcome!

I wish I could offer some words of advice but I think the others have it covered.  

Unlike you, I wasn't born to a N...I just was married to one for seven years and continue to deal with the aftermath (five years later) due to necessary contact regarding our children.

I hope this forum will help you out some.  I have been here a short time and find the people to be very supportive, compassionate, and helpful.

best wishes

mia

[mum]

Noonewhere:  You seem to have the very essense of how to do life.  From such an obviously dysfunctional mother came this incredible (formerly  toxic and swollen) brain.  Fabulous sense of humor (are you in the business?), seriously intellegent and insightful...hey, no wonder you have great friends. Pretty darn cool that you can see what has transpired in your life and still turn it out "what the hell like" and transform negative energy into positive (I'm still  smiling!)    
 Ironically, my fiance had a similar (maybe the same, I'll check it out) out of control brain toxin issue after a minor snip to the ear from his barber.  Lost a good couple months of his life!
Glad to hear you finally got a decent diagnosis!  
Anyhow, welcome.  Nobody knows anybody here, but everybody knows everybody here (or at least tries to be helpful).

[Anonymous]

incredible (formerly toxic and swollen) brain. Fabulous sense of humor (are you in the business?),

The question bears repeating.

WE (one must assume, perhaps, the Royal WE?) may love drama, but I'm having my doubts that (the) WE can turn it into such fascinating, horrifying and darkly funny stuff as YOU can.

Lemonade!!

T

[Anonymous]

Noonewhere Welcome

Abraham Maslow never stopped hating his mother.  When he was a child, he brought home some stray kittens and fed them milk from a piece of his family's china.  When she found out she strangled the kittens before his eyes.  He did not attend her funeral.  

My father, though still living, will not be here much longer.  I do not like him as a person.  My best healing has come from accepting that though he has contributed to who and what I am, I genuinely do not care whether he lives or dies.  I have found better things to do with my mind and emotions.  Thank you for sharing.

[No1where]

What a wonderful and warm reception, it is a pleasure to meet you all.  I hope to share some positive insights here and offer an ear to anyone who needs it, in return for allowing me to nibble your ears when the need strikes....usually around holidays when Mommie Dearest is visiting.

No, I'm not a professional comedian, I'm just a class clown.  

And if any trolls swing by the forum to sling their petty meaness, just give me a holler and I'll smack em.
   

[pineconeit'sme]

oh mygod, I logged out, but noonewhere, you are hilariously wonderful, creative, talented, lord, and smart, no kidding!!!  hallelujah, you should be having a fantastic, outrageous, perfectly wondrous existence - every single day - I'm as nuts as you are - I love you - pinecone