What is your earliest memory of PD behavior?

[Call Me Cordelia]

Well by that logic AnneH you are no longer HER daughter. You can't let yourself be defined by your parents.

That's really strange. I notice she didn't have a problem defining you as in relation to her. 

[athene1399]

I was about four years-old, playing in my bedroom and I wanted to make sure uPD M was still there. My room was upstairs and I think she was downstairs. So I called her and nothing happened. Then I called her again and nothing. So I started crying and calling "mommy" over and over. She finally came in and screamed at me. I don't think I ever called for her again.

With my dad (not a pd, just sometimes a real jerk), I was learning to ride a bike (so 6 or 7? I don't know how old you learn to ride two wheels). I had bad anxiety (go figure) and he got so mad at me for being anxious. He started yelling at me and told me if I didn't knock it off he would throw my bike in the ditch and it would be garbage. So now I'm anxious about being anxious because I'm afraid how others will react.

[Hazy111]

Cat , Are you my sister?? Ha Ha

Of course, what they don't see is how she is the few days before a party or visit, when she's cleaning the house in an absolute fury. Slamming cabinet doors and raging about what a pigsty the place is and how she's the only one that ever does anything around here. Or the moments in the kitchen, when she's just prepared a huge feast and is muttering and swearing under her breath about how no one appreciates everything she does, etc., etc. (She also happens to be the kind of hostess that absolutely refuses to let you help in the kitchen... harder to play the martyr when other people have helped out, I guess.)

My mom to a T. Except she was a uBPD hermit and hated socialising.So she did do Xmas and Easter at home  and only close family invited. The days running up to Xmas and afterwards were a nightmare. She had no friends.

Im surprised at how so much is remembered.  Woman Interrupted described being in the crib and her just staring at her. I think this is a big BPD trait. They are disassociating in the presence of their child. Not interacting with them. Im amazed she could remember this incident. My memories are missing. But i strongly suspect she did this a lot. When older she used to watch me through a crack in the door. She hated the room doors shut.

But to answer the question, i do remember her coming in from work moaning and cussing under her breath. I was about 8 or 9. Then she exploded about how hot it was and why werent the windows open. The next day it was another sunny day , so i thought id open the windows before she came home. 

You know whats coming. The next day she came in the room and exploded about why are the windows all open. I tried to explain, that yesterday she said, but you know the rest...............

[Cat of the Canals]

Cat , Are you my sister?? Ha Ha

The sad thing is, I thought this was normal. I didn't know that other people don't worry so much about what their house looks like, because they know their friends and family aren't there to judge. They are there to spend time with you. It's supposed to be fun! Exciting! Something you're looking forward to.

I didn't realize anything was odd about it until my dad commented to me a few years ago that she was turning into her own mother. I said, "Grandma did that?" He nodded so emphatically I think he got whiplash. When my mom talks about her mom, it's about what a PERFECT mother she was. Perfect, perfect, perfect. No one is allowed to badmouth Grandma. She recently put a cousin on her "shitlist" because cousin mentioned that Grandma didn't get along with cousin's father. Which was true, BTW. I've heard the story enough times to know. But "how dare she throw shade at Grandma!" (An exact quote.)

Anyway, I rarely invited people over to my house as a child and I NEVER do it now. And now I know why I have so much anxiety about guests in my home. It triggers all that old drama and confusion and fear.

[Duck]

WomanInterrupted,

We're Didi and Ray your bio parents?

[Andeza]

Oh wow... Duck, you just reminded me (I'm adopted) my uBPDM used to say I was lucky to have been adopted into a stable, happy home because so many kids end up being raised by crazy people, and my bio M was an irresponsible mess. My uBPDM was schooling me to think I was lucky to live with her. Ugh. 

[M0009803]

Our mother started to rage when we hit our teenage years.

I do remember one time when we were trying to get to a hockey game on a weekend.  Typically, our mother had forbidden us to go due to some small slight wo we ignored her (at that point it was the only rational thing to do).

She caught us trying to leave with our gear, and she attacked us with a ski pole.  She ended up hitting my brother in the mouth with the pole, and taking out one of his teeth.    Of course afterwards, she was apologetic and said it was an accident.  Even told the dentist that (I know now that she did this so that he would not report it).  But the reality was that what she did was serious physical abuse.  She just did not have the parenting skills necessary to deal with teenage children. 

[WomanInterrupted]

Didi and Ray adopted me when I was 2 months old, and yes, I got the same damned spiel - I was SO lucky to be adopted by them, and not some lunatics who wanted to abuse or hurt children.

How's THAT for irony?   

They'd also say things like, "SO MANY parents threaten to take their kids to Father Joe's, but we'd NEVER do that!" (That's the name of the local orphanage.)

Funnily enough, *nobody I knew* was ever threatened to be dropped off at Father Joe's.  It was only *me* that got to hear the passive-aggressive threat about BEHAVE - or else they'd take me back and what, exactly?  Demand a replacement?  Get a refund?   

Or, "Oh, I heard so-and-so's mother threaten to leave her at Father Joe's, because she's being such a bad little girl, but we'd NEVER do that."

Or, "So-and-so told me she threatened to take her child to Father Joe's because he wouldn't clean his room and that boy begged and pleaded as he cleaned  it up, but we'd NEVER do that."

Or, "Naughty children wind up at Father Joe's..."

Or, "I'm surprised half the parents in this neighborhood don't drop their kids off at Father Joe's, because they're so HORRIBLE and SUCH a bad influence on you!"

There were dozens of variants, but it was always the same meaning:  they could get rid of me, any time they wanted. 

The longer I lived there, the more I wished they would!   

It was only when I was an adult that I figured out the *real* reason they adopted me:  they wanted an Old-Age Golden Parachute Plan, and expected me to provide it. 

Thankfully, I found myself here and they would up meeting my *boundaries* instead.   

[Andeza]

So do we call it false advertising or brainwashing?

I was also homeschooled, which while homeschooling can absolutely be done right, my uBPDM did not do it right. *facepalm* This is somewhere in the running for earliest memory. She used to threaten to send me to public school, saying some variation on "If you can't behave here at home, would you rather go to public school? With all the mean kids and bad teachers? Where school shootings happen?" Heaven help me... How do you say that to your 8/9 year old kid?

I honestly believe I was always second-best in M's eyes. Second-best to a miscarriage she had years earlier. But, if she couldn't have her own kids, she'd take somebody else's and give them a "good" home where they were expected to take care of her in her old age.

[Thru the Rain]

They'd also say things like, "SO MANY parents threaten to take their kids to Father Joe's, but we'd NEVER do that!" (That's the name of the local orphanage.)

Wow you totally jogged a memory for me. My M used to threaten to leave us by the side of the road so the police could pick us up and find another family. Some family who would "put up with us".

Another variation was she would leave us out on trash day for the garbage men to take away.

[Duck]

Andeza and WI, I'm so sorry you had to deal with this horrible nonsense!

I think raising people to take care of you in old age is one of the most selfish and evil things I can think of. You are already playing God by bringing them into this world or playing with their lives. Then, you are basically raising them to be your slave.

I have no kids and one of the reasons is my determination not to suck the life out of another human like a vampire. I've been trying to remember lately that not all parents are awful, but it's hard to hold that in my mind! Sometimes I wonder what percentage are good. I have no idea!

[Duck]

My PD parent is an OCPD dad, so my earliest memories involve uncontrolled rage.

Earliest memory might be sitting in a high chair or on a tall kitchen stool eating while my dad raged through the kitchen with a golden retriever under his arm like a woman would carry a clutch purse. What strikes me about this is 1) remembering how strong he was as a young man and 2) how calm I felt with this maelstrom happening around me because I thought it was normal and was too young to understand how afraid I should be.

I also remember my mom crying on her bed. Another candidate for earliest might be sitting on the kitchen counter while my dad screamed about how the glasses were put away in the cupboard. He had some stupid theory about the "right" way to put them away. Pure nonsense. He asked me to confirm to my mom that he was right and she was wrong. Again, I remember being calm. I did not know yet why I should be afraid or why this wasn't normal.

(I eventually figured out I should be afraid, and I am being treated for PTSD today.)

[sassypink]

I struggle to remember my earliest memory, but this is probably one of the earliest.

I was friends with neighbour's kid and she often came over to play and vice versa. One day my mum gave her a favourite toy of mine to borrow, except my mum didn't ask me or tell she was lending it to my friend - she just gave it to her. Naturally being around... 5 years old I think, I was a bit upset that my friend was taking one of my favourite toys as she went to leave. We had a childish squabble in front of her dad, who was picking her up. The dad then told my mum about it, and next thing I know she comes in in a screaming rage... I don't even remember what she said, but it was probably something about me embarrassing her. I just remember the sheer terror I felt as she was screaming at me, then she spent the rest of the evening ignoring me.

[Cat of the Canals]

Another candidate for earliest might be sitting on the kitchen counter while my dad screamed about how the glasses were put away in the cupboard. He had some stupid theory about the "right" way to put them away. Pure nonsense.

Oof. I've been trying to pinpoint my dad's issues, as I tend to downplay them compared to uBPD mom, but they are definitely there. I've been thinking all along that he just has major fleas from his childhood, but this sounds too much like him. When I was about thirteen and had started doing laundry on my own, he once rudely told me that I was "allowed" to do everyone else's laundry, but not his, because he didn't want me messing up his clothes. 

[doglady]

Like a lot of other commenters on this thread, I can't remember much of my childhood. I've read this is very common in people who've had shit childhoods. Not hard to understand why the brain would try to shut this stuff out is it?
I feel so sorry for the little innocent children we were.

My childhood seems like a depreasing blur of unhappiness, confusion, recrimination, threats and unrealistic expectations. However, some things stand out: me standing alone in the garden at about age 4, saying to over and over to myself  that I have to try and be a nicer girl, and then presumably my mother would like me. I wasn't sure how I could achieve this as even then I perceived it was a no win situation.

As for my father, he barely spoke more than 10 words to me throughout my childhood so I just recall his sullen distance, really. Neither of them showed affection.

I was frequently accused of being selfish by my mother, that 'we just don't know where we've gone wrong with you' and that I'd 'ruined' her life. This was if I dared to have displeased her. I was supposed be able to read her mind (yes, she actually often said that I 'should just know' what she was thinking) and preempt her emotional needs. To this day, I'm ridiculously sensitive to the emotional 'temperature' of a room.

My younger GC bro was pampered and complimented. He could do no wrong. If I did the same things, I would suffer slaps, threats to be picked up by the police and global blame for whatever other random crap was happening at the time.

I always felt that other parents actually liked and interacted with their kids a lot more than mine did. I've tried to rectify the parenting by being more loving with my own kids but now I constantly wonder if I'm good enough. What compounded it all was that parents and kids didn't seem to like me much either. I think it was a self-fulfilling prophecy.  Bad parenting can do a real number on you.

[Hazy111]

dog lady ditto. I wept at your message. The lack of memory is called disassociation. Great swathes of nothingness, likewise.

Although i was the "GC" .  I was supposedly "spoilt,"  well compared to the Bad Child sis  i was, as in the case of material possessions. BUT THERE IS NO LOVE OR AFFECTION FOR EITHER CHILD WITH PD PARENTS.

When " BC " left home, i took on both roles.

I can read  the emotional temperature of any room. One of my talents.

[Blueberry Pancakes]

When I was seven years old I used to love to let my nails grow and paint them with whatever nail polish mom had in the house. My older sister was the golden child but she bit her nails and could never grow them long and used to make fun of mine all the time. One day she took one of my barbie dolls away from me and as I lunged toward her to get it back, I scratched her arm. She was taller and bigger that me, but she looked at the red marks on her arm and went screaming to our dad holding her arm out and telling him that I had hurt her with "my nails". Our dad said he had enough of "my nails" and grabbed me by the arm, sat me on the couch, and clipped my nails short. I was crying and screaming because I felt he was being unfairly angry and he over powered me. The neighbors heard my screams and came over to see if I was alright. My parents just said I was screaming because dad cut my nails. In reality, no, I was screaming because I had been treated unfairly. Nobody ever said my sister was wrong for stealing one of my toys. Nobody ever said our dad was over-reacting. Nobody ever said my identity at such a young age was wrapped around my ability to paint my own nails and he had taken that from me. I never forgot that event, and now I know my Golden Child sister was able to work our parents to her advantage against me even at a young age. Even up to a few years ago, my parents still made fun of me for being so upset that dad cut my nails. It was like suffering that same abuse all over again. Some things never go away, but they are the same things that will set us on a course to a better life.

[LifeIsWorthLiving]

My earliest memory of my mother's PD behavior was her dropping me off at preschool for the first time. I panicked and had a 3-year-old meltdown. She just went stone faced and walked away without saying anything.

My earliest memory of unNPD dad was him accusing me of intentionally doing something wrong when I had been clumsy and accidentally broke something. I was probably aged 3 or 4.

[gcj07a]

My earliest memory probably has to be when I was 3 and my uBPM forced my siblings and I to stand outside and watch a tornado coming toward the house. We were mocked for being "cry babies" because we wanted to be inside.

I also remember being five or six and walking in on my uBPM just wailing on my brother with one of my father's belts. I told her then that I would call the police if she didn't stop (what this tells me is that this must not have been the first time). She burst into tears and told me that I was right, that she was an awful mother, and that she might as well go kill herself. I don't remember what happened after that.

My nBP father told me that after my brother was born and she stayed home while my dad went to work, he would come home to find the house a total disaster and her on the couch watching her soap operas. She literally did nothing all day. I have no idea what she did to my brother during that period, but I can only imagine.

[TwentyTwenty]

I don't remember my age, but I always thought it was normal to expect a thrashing for my bad behavior or under-performance with a belt or a low hanging branch cut from a tree with a pocketknife. Or whatever was handy at the moment. I just learned to zone out and internalize, finding ways to escape in my thoughts to shut it out. I stared at things a lot as a kid..

But I remember when I was 17, and got caught skipping school for the majority of the first 9 weeks and smoking pot, when my pdm was driving she was so mad at me, she screamed ''I'm going to run us off into the trees and kill us both!' And swerved the car towards the treeline. That's when I first thought that there was something seriously mentally wrong with her. And I decided to move out as soon as I possibly could.

So I waited until I was 18 and off I went. (I did manage to pass high school, btw) 

She said I that couldn't move out, and it was extremely distressing to her, I could see.. and I said 'Yes I can, it's already done.. I have an apartment." And I left.

Looking back, and now seeing the absolute hateful people that my parents are, I see that day as the turning point in my life where I began my escape from the cage of abuse.