I need to tell my story--LONG. Trigger Warning

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DaisyGirl77

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I need to tell my story--LONG. Trigger Warning
« on: November 16, 2016, 12:31:09 AM »
Mods, move this where you see fit; I couldn't decide which forum it best fit.

I've told bits & pieces here & there, but not every single thing.  For the purpose of this post, I'll be using society's given names for the family relationships (grandma, uncle, etc.) to reduce confusion although I no longer refer to them as such.

____________________________

I moved in with with my grandma on October 24, 2009.  It was a choice made while I was stuck between a rock & a hard place:  I had no job, having lost mine a year ago; I had no savings, & no other prospects on the horizon.  My parents were divorcing, the house was on the market, & we had to move, move, move.  I was 24 then.  Dad & I agreed that I'd be his eyes & ears & would step in when it was clear Grandma needed more help than I could give.  So we made the trip up to Grandma's place (a one bedroom apartment) an hour away with only my essentials.  Everything else was moved into storage.  My cat stayed behind with my mom & sisters.  He got me settled in, spent time with both of us, & left around sunset.

For the first few weeks, it was bliss.  I never really knew my grandparents, & I saw this as an opportunity to really know them; to catch up on all that I'd missed growing up.  I only saw them at public events when they were there to support my cousin (their favorite, I know now).  She used to come behind me & hug me, randomly say "I love you", & was an all-around affectionate, warm person.  The ideal grandma.  I learned a couple of her recipes, one of which I still use today (once in a while).  She went to bingo every Thursday, so I made that my day to clean the whole apartment.  We bickered, but they always ended in laughter, hugs, & kisses.  My cat moved in shortly before Thanksgiving, which was a relief.

Then Thanksgiving came, which was an overall lovely day.  Dad cornered me in our shared bedroom when I went in there to get something & told me that Grandma had been complaining about how little I do around the house.  "She says you spend most of your time in front of your computer."  I asked him if she'd mentioned who does the cleaning.  "No."  Does she tell you who goes grocery shopping?  "No."  Well, I'm the one who does it all.  "I see.  ...Forget about it, then."  Alright.  Fine with me.

I balanced her checkbook all the way to her first statement (because she asked me to), cleaned out her old paperwork, shredded a bunch of duplicates, reorganized them, found her will & put that in her strongbox, & tackled her junk mail problem (that took me MONTHS).

We went on the 2 bedroom waiting list shortly after I was added to her lease.  Around this time, she began to inform me that she was going to put some of her stuff in my bedroom.  We had several arguments because I refused to let that happen & told her I'd either move it back to her room, or throw it out.  Her:  *exaggerated gasp*  "You wouldn't dare!"

She "teased" me that she was going to cut off my cat's whiskers.  I told her I'd shave her hair off.

She liked to tell me I was fat, "don't eat too many cookies!" when I only took two, "You have turkey legs, I have chicken legs.", etc.

She often said she wanted to die.  It got to the point where I ignored those statements because it didn't serve anything.

By 2011, I'd taken over everything:  I did the cooking, cleaning, & shopping.  Grandma did the token dusting when she felt like it.  I had instituted a grocery shopping list because Grandma was notorious for not telling me she wanted X in addition to the rest of the alphabet, so she was always disappointed when I came home without it.  Then she'd insist she never really wanted it anyway, & "don't bother" putting it on the next list.

She began acting increasingly helpless, wanting me to call people for her, change the channel, call the doctors & make appointments, etc.  I began turning into a nurse, making sure she stuck to the BRAT diet when she was sick (she never did & when she inevitably made herself sicker she blamed me & told everyone I was a "bad nurse"), etc.

She complained to my dad that I never buy her food, which was patently untrue.  After 2 years, she stubbornly believed I could read her mind & get what she wanted without her ever putting her food wants on the grocery list.  To combat this, I'd started asking her if she wanted something from the store before I go a week before I actually went shopping.  & I kept asking her that until minutes before I walked out the door.  But it was when I got back that she'd say, "Oh, you didn't get this?  I wanted it."  To whit, I'd say, "You didn't tell me you wanted it, & if you don't tell me you want it, it's not going on the list."  She'd pout, "Well, maybe next time."  Except next time never came.  Whenever I remembered to get the thing she wanted last time, she'd rear back & say, "I didn't say I wanted this!  Ew!  I wanted that!"  But "that" never was verbalized.  Sometimes she'd go a different way:  "Oh, I want this, but you don't like it, so don't get it."  I'd push & say I'd get it for her, it's not a big deal, but she'd insist she didn't want it & got mad whenever I pushed the issue.  So in any case, I never could "win".

On the few occasions I needed a break & sent her out instead to do it, with a long list of food we needed, she blew half the budget on her wants, & came back with NOTHING I needed.  Not even cereal.  When I asked why I didn't have my cereal, she said, "It was too expensive."  But a single cut of steak cost her almost $15 & that wasn't expensive compared to a $2.50 box of cereal that was on sale?  "Yeah."  So I wound up going out to do the shopping & getting everything we needed.  She never bought toilet paper, paper towels, nothing.  Everything she bought on the handful of occasions she went out was all her wants & her needs only.

She told everyone who'd listen to her that I was "lazy".  I took the trash out, regularly deep cleaned the house (including degreasing the stove & cleaning behind it), did the dishes, all the grocery shopping (2 weeks' worth on a foldable cart), did all the cooking & meal planning & recipe-finding because she couldn't be bothered, made very minor repairs to the house, among lots of other things.  She turned me into her surrogate mother & then got angry when I treated her like a child (like she originally wanted).

When we argued, she stomped her feet as a child would while having a tantrum, complete with phrases like, "No, I won't!"  When she started an argument & no longer wanted to continue it (which was all the time), her go to phrases were "I'm ALL UPSET!" or "Amen."

We moved into a 2 bedroom apartment a couple weeks before Christmas 2011.  She got worse.

She hovered.  So, so, SO much.  She had to know exactly what I was doing every minute of every day.  She used to stare at me as an owl would.  She even blinked like an owl whenever she stared at me, which was a lot.  It was almost like she'd forgotten I was there, or I was a stranger, or a particularly interesting specimen she was studying under the microscope.

If she forgot to do something that she normally did, she'd say disappointedly, "You didn't do this for me?"

The name calling & "teasing" about my weight got worse.  "THINK before you eat!"  (studying our reflection in a camera):  "She's big, I'm tiny."  She told my dad to slide into the seat next to her while I was in the process of taking off my winter coat at a restaurant:  "There's not enough room on DaisyGirl's side."

She stopped listening to me.  My opinion was automatically discounted & thrown aside because I did not have the male genitalia.  All our fights ended with me yelling at her to "call Dad!" before storming into my room.  As soon as he said exactly what I said, it was gospel.  I could repeat myself until I was blue in the face & she'd never remember.  As soon as he said it, it was in her brain forever.

She announced she wanted to die more frequently.  At that point, I wished she would, & in a couple fights where she said she wanted to die, I told her, "The stairs are right there.  What are you waiting for?"  This shocked her enough to stop saying it...for a while.  But she got quite a lot of sympathy for it because "DaisyGirl told me I should die/she wishes I was dead!"

She complained about how bossy I was.  But she conveniently left out the fact that I was "bossy" was because she stared at everything I was doing to the point where she set the smoke alarms off because she'd forgotten she was cooking.

I was subjected to more guilt trips:  "You did this for me once, & now you're not gonna do it?"  No, because you can do that on your own just fine.  Or:  "You did that for me, but you're not gonna do this?"  No.  I did that for you because your doctor says you can't do that anymore, but you can still do this so you should do this.

There were more frequent fights, in which she stomped her feet & said, "No, I WON'T!" over something ridiculous.  I was perpetually exhausted.

I'd put in several calls on different occasions to her PCP outlining my concerns, but nothing ever came of them.  (Her PCP is/was an extremely gullible, lazy person.)  Upon her next visit to the doctor, she'd tell them that she was "fine" & had no problems when she complained about multiple issues.  But she never wanted any of those issues fixed.  Then she'd tell the doctors I was "lying" so they wouldn't take my concerns into consideration.

She'd taken to telling everyone I did nothing & telling select people I did everything.  Sometimes she'd toss it up by telling me I did nothing, but telling everyone I did everything.

A year later, she & her equally toxic BFF, K, were discussing me on the phone & agreed that I didn't "live" there.  I'd lived with her for 3 years, & apparently I lived in some imaginary place separate from the apartment we shared.  When I called her on it, she fake sobbed & begged me to stay, but she told everyone I didn't live there.

Our fights escalated.  We argued multiple times every day.  She called me the devil frequently.  (She's a devout Catholic.)  I openly mocked her:  "But I didn't DO ANYTHING to you!  Why are you SO MAD?!" & mimicked her calling all her friends & telling them all about how "horrible DaisyGirl" was.  Her response:  "I NEVER do that!"  She claimed she did "everything" for me:  She bathed, fed, clothed, & cleaned (a very adult) me, so "why are you acting this way?"  She called me "evil" & "an abuser".  When I said she was the one abusing ME, she (surprise) denied, denied, denied.  She repeatedly announced she could do whatever she wanted to me, & I "couldn't tell her no."  She began obsessing over the amount of toilet paper I used & tried limiting me to "two squares" per bathroom trip.  (A digestive problem I had also flared up around this time as well, so there was no way that was going to happen.)

Her tactic was to stalk me around the apartment until she had me cornered somewhere, & that was where she'd proceed with her yelling, screaming fit.  It was mostly over the fact that I never "helped" her anymore; she'd forgotten to take the morning paper in, had left a light on, forgotten to flush the toilet after she was done using it, left water running, etc.  Of course, all this was my fault, even though the only times I left my room was to use the bathroom, get something to eat/drink & wash my own dishes, & go to work/do errands.  I no longer cooked for both of us.  I was too scared to be around her.  I no longer cleaned the apartment, with the exception of my room because she'd taken to telling everyone how little I actually did so I decided to make her lies a truth.  But she never noticed.

My uncle had stopped answering my phone calls, but he still called to check in on his mom.  My cousin (his daughter) dropped off the face of the earth before he did, but also called Grandma to check in.

Thanksgiving 2012 was spent by myself.  I'd asked my family for weeks prior to have a family Thanksgiving because I needed it.  I needed a semblance of normalcy in my life when there really wasn't any.  I was told that "it's too early" to think about that, or "I'm not sure what our SOs are wanting to do", etc.  As it got nearer, I told them I'd do all the cooking; all they had to do was show up.  It was then that I was finally told that my dad & uncle had other plans.  My uncle decided he wanted to spend the day with his mom, which was understandable.  He said not to wait up for them because they'd be home late.  So I spent the day by myself, & cooked my first bird, spent a couple hours on the phone with my mom & sisters, & vegged out by the TV & watched all kinds of stupid, cheesy Christmas movies while eating chocolate by the handful.

A little after 8 that night, Grandma walked in the door, followed by my dad & his fiancee.  They froze as soon as they saw me.  When I asked why it wasn't Uncle who brought her home because he was the one who picked her up that morning, the whole thing unraveled:  They'd had a "family" Thanksgiving at my uncle's house.  The only one who was uninvited was me.  Dad kept saying he had a great time with "family", & I couldn't resist observing, "Oh...  I guess I'm not family."  It was like I'd dropped a bomb in the room.  Dad said he didn't want to argue, & I said it was too late.  He was my FATHER, & he should've stood up for me.  At the very least, he should've been honest with me about his plans, & he wasn't.

I spent that night crying myself to sleep.

Grandma got worse after that.  There were days we'd fight over nothing because she wouldn't let me leave my own room (she used to stand in the doorway, arms crossed, practically daring me to push her away).  Sometimes, just to tick me off, she'd tap me on the shoulder.  HARD.  Then very sweetly ask, "Why didn't you throw the garbage away?" (when she'd said she would do it).  Then when I'd say that, she'd make her face sink in on itself & pitifully ask me why I "didn't love" her anymore.

I had been in therapy for a couple years at that point, & she decided it was well within her rights to demand my psychologist's number.  Why?  "You've been a BAAAAAD girl, & she needs to know it!"  I made her stalking maneuver work for me, & I got outta there.  When I walked back in the door 15 minutes later, she was back in her usual place on the couch, watching TV like nothing had ever happened.

Dad openly questioned several times whether I was telling him the truth.  Why?  Because our versions of our fights were so very different that SOMEONE had to have been lying.  This, when I'd told him his mother had begun to "forbid" me from calling him, & had tried to block me from doing so on separate occasions.

I'd begun the process of working with an agency to get me out & into my own place because I spent too much of my time crying because our fights upset me so much & because my dad had chosen to blame ME for "starting" the fights.  (I still don't know how because I spent all my time in the house in my room.  I no longer watched TV, & avoided doing anything outside my room while she was home.)  My therapist had provided a letter in support of emergency housing for me to said agency, but it didn't make the process move any faster.

My mother had decided previously that I was never allowed to come back home.  No one else in my family could take me in due to various reasons.  I'd learned the Emergency Section 8 housing list was closed after going through all the steps to get on it, & I didn't make enough money at my non-union parttime job to meet even the minimum income requirement to live in a rent-controlled apartment.  I couldn't install a lock on my bedroom door because doing so would break my lease with Grandma.  I had no car, so I couldn't spend time in there.

Grandma because paranoid I was snooping on her.  She was convinced I had gone into her room & rifled through her paperwork (I hadn't).  She told everyone I was "abusing" her, I "start all the fights", & she's "scared" of me.  She'd begun "charging" my back when I turned my back to her in order to leave a room while we were fighting.

My father was convinced that our "problems" would work themselves out if we talked to each other.  He'd become a broken record:  "Give me time/patience.  I need to do some research." whenever I pushed him to "do something" because this wasn't normal.

I was dealing with several health issues at this point.  My aforementioned digestive problem flared up randomly so I spent a lot of time in the bathroom, & sometimes I'd be throwing up as well.  My tendinitis in my wrists flared up so badly after every fight that it'd take me a week to even feel semi-normal again.  Even then, I was shaking so badly 24/7 (even in my sleep, I was shaking) because I was terrified of her.  It didn't matter whether she was out of the house or if I was, I still shook & my jaw chattered uncontrollably.  When she was in the house, the shaking escalated until I was quite literally vibrating in fear.  I was on 3 different medications:  One for depression because I'd considered suicide a couple times & was dealing with "passive suicidal ideation", the other for anxiety, & the third was a sleep aid because I couldn't sleep.  I had Xanax for when it got really bad.  My anxiety was so bad I had picked my cuticles to shreds & was doing the same to the soles & sides of my feet.  I only stopped when I felt pain.

In January 2013, she got physically aggressive for the first time:  She shoved me twice in an argument after cornering me yet again.  I told her that was her one "freebie" & the next time she touched me inappropriately, I'd be calling the police.

That triggered the third call to Elder Affairs.  (My call was the first; my therapist's was the second.)  After they spoke with us, they decided everything was my fault & threatened me with a restraining order.  Grandma got much worse from there, & I wound up spending 3 days in March 2013 at a homeless shelter, only going back to the apartment to make sure my cat was okay.  I called the police on two separate occasions because she was physically aggressive again.  (The police told me they could arrest her, but it'd also mean I'd have to unclothe myself in the back of an ambulance so they could take pictures of the bruises.  But she never hit hard enough to bruise.  I was told that under that state's laws, I could be arrested for filing a false police report.  I nearly passed out from hyperventilating.  They didn't--they knew just from my reaction that I was telling the truth, but they had to advise me of this anyway.)

I was terrified of leaving my apartment every time I had to go.  I thought she'd change the locks on me while I was out so I couldn't get back in.  She never did, but it was a very real fear for me for MONTHS.

I had a chat with one of my bosses at work & detailed a bit of my situation.  I warned him that I had no idea where I'd end up, & I had no idea where I'd be going when I left work.  I said I'd do my best to give a heads up, but I couldn't promise it.  He was stunned & shocked speechless, & offered his help if I needed it.

Grandma no longer listened to my father.  My uncle, who ate up her lies, no longer spoke to me.  He gave me the silent treatment any time he visited, & I tried to ignore it & kept on doing my own thing.  After the second police visit, he finally got it through her head that I meant business when I told her not to touch me (I had said that literally maybe 1,000 times since she started escalating around November 2012).  She no longer touched me.

Dad finally said the reason he couldn't get his mom help was because it was "illegal".  I'd given up on getting him to help me, so I'd done my own research in the meantime, which said that we could bullshit: "Hey, look at this!  C'mon & let's check it out."  But if they indicated they didn't want to, then the game was up.  He gasped, realizing he was caught out.  So I asked him why he tried to lie to me.  He didn't have an answer.  By now, I was disgusted with everyone, including him for his inaction & silent support of Grandma.

I'd already begun selling my furniture on CraigsList to scrape up the money to get out & advertised for a room in exchange for maid services (because I was still working at the same crappy job & couldn't spare any cash for rent), & was dealing with perverts thinking "maid services" meant sexual favors even though I literally spelled out what I was willing to do in my advertisement.

My laptop (& later a loaner computer from my mother) both fried.  By then, they had both been (attempted to) tampered with on 4 different occasions because Grandma no longer wanted me to have access to the internet, which, by then, was my only contact with the outside world on a regular basis.  My phone was a Tracfone; it was limited to a certain amount of minutes, & I couldn't afford to add any more after they ran out.  I was keeping in almost religious contact with my parents & sisters, who were scared for me.  Those attempts were done by my uncle (3 times), & one of her friends.  Once my mom's computer fried, I had to spend everything I'd saved for my escape to repair my laptop.

I got a certified letter in the mail one day.  It was a letter Grandma had signed stating she wanted me out of the house & off the lease because she was "in fear for my life."  It listed several other falsehoods.

I found a foster for my cat.  She took her on April 27, 2013.  (She's now her new mommy.  I get sporadic updates from her letting me know how she's doing.)  Shortly after this, I asked for a new form from the landlord & gave a move out date of June 1, 2013.  I didn't know where I'd go; I just new I had to leave.  They asked me why I didn't give them the one I got in the mail.  "Because I'm not signing a lie."

Shortly after THAT, Elder Services did a surprise visit & told me that I wasn't doing enough to "prove" I was leaving.  This, mind you, was stated in a nearly bare room.  Everything I could sell was sold.  Everything else but the most basic necessities was in storage or in my mom's attic.  My room ECHOED.  They said this even though they'd seen my room when it was fully furnished.  They weren't blind.  They could CLEARLY see that I was making progress.  I told them so.  "You need to make more of an effort."

Grandma pitched more fits, but this time she demanded to know where I was going.  I had sworn my parents & sisters to secrecy; they were not allowed to tell her where I was going.  She had lost all right to know.  We let her wallow in her "panic" of not knowing, & she made sure to tell everyone she "didn't know" where I was moving to.  She became angry when I told her it was none of her business.  I no longer cared.  I'd stopped caring months ago.

To be honest, I was staring at moving into a homeless shelter because I had still struck out everywhere.  It wasn't until a week before my moving date that my mom stepped in & told me I could come back home.  She drove up to help me move.  Grandma asked her where I was going (even though they've hated each other for decades).  My mom was very cold & said she didn't know, even though I could see she wanted to unleash all her rage on her.

We drove away.  I kept my middle fingers raised until the complex I used to live in was in the rearview mirror.

____________________________

My mother says I spent the first 2 weeks in a solid rage.  I remember very little of it; it's very hazy.  I was diagnosed with PTSD a couple months later.  I learned that everything I'd experienced was typical for Grandma, although the physical attacks were new.  She had done the same thing to my mother when she & my dad lived in their house before they found their own place.

I stopped taking all my medications when I left.

I spent 2 years with her.  I got my degree in a medical field, got a better job, which led to an even better job in the field my degree is in, & have been in my own apartment for over a year.  I still have a split second of panic that I won't be able to get into my house, but that's lessened from stark terror.  I still cannot handle it when people approach me from behind.  I get so scared still, but I don't shake anymore.  I have a couple more things I can't handle because it triggers PTSD, but it really doesn't run my life.

I have 2 cats now.  For the longest time, I was frozed in fear because I knew I couldn't handle it if I had to give them up like I did my other cat.  It took multiple therapy sessions & many friends to reassure me that it wouldn't happen this time.  I still have that fear though...  I'm still scared it'll happen, even though I know it won't.  I still think of my other cat daily.  I miss her to pieces, but she is very loved by her new mom.

I have no idea what my dad's mom, his brother, & my cousin are up to.  I've had no interest since, even though Dad sometimes tried to vent.  He also recently FINALLY had his OOTF moment when he realized that the problem really wasn't me; it was her.  This was brought about when she started pulling the same stuff she did to me on him.  Three years in the making, but he FINALLY did it.  He walked away from them all & apologized for what he did to me.

I don't talk to my mom anymore.  There's a post here somewhere detailing why.  I don't talk to my mom's mom anymore either--turns out I have a PD double whammy, & a couple of my mom's siblings (one in particular) shows signs of some sort of PD.  So my family has become very small, but my FOC has grown. :)
I lived with my dad's uPD mom for 3.5 years.  This is my story:  http://www.outofthefog.net/forum/index.php?topic=59780.0  (TW for abuse descriptions.)

"You are not required to set yourself on fire to keep others warm." - Anonymous

NC with uNM since December 2016.  VLC with uPDF.

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daughter

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Re: I need to tell my story--LONG. Trigger Warning
« Reply #1 on: November 16, 2016, 11:18:51 AM »
You were the defacto nurse-companion-housekeeper for your grandmother, for all those years, at no cost to your grandmother or your father's extended FOO Family.  You were the free servant.  I suspect lots of their mistreatment of you served to deflect their guilt in manipulating you into taking on this responsibility without any compensation, to make you feel you "owed" grandma for the housing when I fact you were her live-in 24/7 household help.  People who are abusive often project their "bad character" traits on their victims, to justify their bad behavior and boundary violations and innate malevolence towards those target-victims.  You were brave to survive this horrible period, and it's wise to maintain continued distance from your father and his FOO family.  Best wishes to you

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bopper

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Re: I need to tell my story--LONG. Trigger Warning
« Reply #2 on: November 16, 2016, 12:55:41 PM »
Thank you so much for sharing your story! How is your relationship with your Dad now?
Just because they are incapable of loving you, doesn't mean that you are unlovable.
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DaisyGirl77

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Re: I need to tell my story--LONG. Trigger Warning
« Reply #3 on: November 17, 2016, 07:16:57 PM »
Thank you both for listening & taking the time to comment.

This whole...experience :roll: ...got under my skin so much that as soon as I got out, I told my parents that they were on their own when they get old & need help.  I'll laugh in their faces if they even look in my direction.  I've been too severely burned by the laws & by what I went through with my dad's mom & I absolutely REFUSE to put myself through that again until & UNLESS the laws change to focus more on protecting the caregiver from their client/patient/family member's abuse.

Thank you so much for sharing your story! How is your relationship with your Dad now?

Better than it was when I left.  Then, my relationship with him was extremely strained.  I couldn't trust him like I used to--blindly, naively--& he was too deep into the whole family mess while I was so far gone from that that I was practically on another planet.  By doing what he did, he broke the covenant between a father & his child/ren.  What he did revealed a very deep character flaw within him, & I didn't know how to handle it.  Now, I've fairly well accepted this part of him.  I'll never be able to trust him like I used to ever again, & I know his limits all too well.  I mean, he walked around for nearly 4 years with his head buried in the sand while I was there, for Pete's sake, & he consistently chose his mother over me.  There were occasions where he tried to blame ME for his mother's behavior.  (Set him straight right quick then, too.)

He & his brother were supposed to split the responsibility for taking care of their mother evenly between them after I left.  As I KNEW, due to past behavior by his brother, he disappeared as soon as he felt it proper (didn't even last 2 months).  He's been into the woodwork since.  He has no idea where his brother is now, & only knows he's alive due to mutual friends saying so.  His brother refuses to answer phone calls, etc., & my dad has no idea where he lives.  LOL.  Dude's a REAL piece of work, & a whole 'nother story. :stars:
I lived with my dad's uPD mom for 3.5 years.  This is my story:  http://www.outofthefog.net/forum/index.php?topic=59780.0  (TW for abuse descriptions.)

"You are not required to set yourself on fire to keep others warm." - Anonymous

NC with uNM since December 2016.  VLC with uPDF.

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Adrianna

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Re: I need to tell my story--LONG. Trigger Warning
« Reply #4 on: November 17, 2016, 09:01:32 PM »
I really feel for you. I read your whole story. How horrific. It's interesting how at first your grandmother seemed so wonderful then later you saw it. That's what's hard for people to understand. They can hold it together for a while but it always shows up later. However people who don't see them as often can go on forever thinking they are fine and we look like the crazy ones for complaining about how we are treated.

My father too sided with his mother when I was younger. He and her used to gang up on me and yell at me for one thing or another. He always took her side. My mother was a silent enabler. I had no one on my side like you.  "What he did revealed a very deep character flaw within him..." Same here with my father.

(hugs)
Practice an attitude of gratitude.

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DaisyGirl77

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Re: I need to tell my story--LONG. Trigger Warning
« Reply #5 on: November 17, 2016, 10:10:47 PM »
I really feel for you. I read your whole story. How horrific. It's interesting how at first your grandmother seemed so wonderful then later you saw it. That's what's hard for people to understand. They can hold it together for a while but it always shows up later. However people who don't see them as often can go on forever thinking they are fine and we look like the crazy ones for complaining about how we are treated.

My father too sided with his mother when I was younger. He and her used to gang up on me and yell at me for one thing or another. He always took her side. My mother was a silent enabler. I had no one on my side like you.  "What he did revealed a very deep character flaw within him..." Same here with my father.

(hugs)

Thanks, Adrianna.  My mom was on my side because Dad's mom had done similar things to her when she moved in with my dad before they found their first place together.  She demanded pizza from them (very offensively & very rudely, when she previously didn't want any:  hand stuck out, other hand on hip, "How DARE you order pizza without asking me?!  I want some pizza NOW."), & when my mom was pregnant with me, she bought all kinds of healthy food (salads, yogurt, etc.) that was supposed to last them for the week.  It didn't last a day...  Dad's parents ate everything.  It got to the point where my mom had to lock the food she bought that was meant for me in the trunk of her car because otherwise she'd never be able to eat even a bite.  She said they threw an especially bad tantrum about that when they realized what she'd done.  Even tried to steal the keys from her so they could get into it.
I lived with my dad's uPD mom for 3.5 years.  This is my story:  http://www.outofthefog.net/forum/index.php?topic=59780.0  (TW for abuse descriptions.)

"You are not required to set yourself on fire to keep others warm." - Anonymous

NC with uNM since December 2016.  VLC with uPDF.

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StepbyStep

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Re: I need to tell my story--LONG. Trigger Warning
« Reply #6 on: December 12, 2016, 08:57:17 PM »
Daisygirl77, thanks for sharing your story. I'm new here and this is so similar to what I've experienced, it's almost scary. I'm glad you got out and hope you're still doing ok. I also hope it's ok that I share a bit.

I'm on the verge of being homeless myself just to get away from it. Been here going on six years and I can't even tell you why I stayed. Except maybe I was programmed as a kid to be feel like I deserve it. Most of Grandma's family, who have their own abusive tendencies, have been against me most of that time. Grandma gets on the phone and dramatizes and blames and then the family gossip mill starts churning -- all of that behind my back. My uncle has even threatened me because of how "horrible" I am, but when we're alone Grandma begs me to never leave her. She plays both sides for kicks. I wish I could say I am perfect and just keep going like a robot servant, but I've been forcing myself to do the bare minimum for a while now, which just makes it worse for me. I'm not pretending that I am perfect, but I do love her and have gone out of my way to help her when no one else would. To make it worse my do-nothing narcissistic father moved in after his ex-wife dumped him. All he does is bicker with grandma and complain about how abusive she is, but doesn't care about improving things, helping out or really about me at all. My sister has also lived here longer than me and does much less. She is either at work or hiding at my Mom's. She avoids grandma, but that also makes it worse for me. We get lumped together by the family as if we are the same person. It's dehumanizing. We are almost never referred to individually, no matter how different we are or no matter how much I try to pick up the slack. If I leave grandma will go to a home, no matter who else is living there. She knows that. That's the only reason I ever get apologies for some of her worst, evil behavior (that would be too long to go into). Whenever she thinks I might leave, that's the only time she considers that she might have done something hurtful.

Sometimes I can't even believe this is my life. I was doing pretty well before this. Been very depressed for at least a year and a half, suicidal. Therapy and medication didn't help much. I just need to get out and restart life. It hurts, but I see now it's the only way.  :sadno:

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Spring Butterfly

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Re: I need to tell my story--LONG. Trigger Warning
« Reply #7 on: December 13, 2016, 09:40:54 AM »
Quote
Sometimes I can't even believe this is my life. I was doing pretty well before this. Been very depressed for at least a year and a half, suicidal. Therapy and medication didn't help much. I just need to get out and restart life. It hurts, but I see now it's the only way.
StepByStep, I don't want to hijack Daisy's thread but did want to welcome you. It sounds like you're on a good path of self protection and taking active steps to live your own life. You're not responsible for any of your family members or their choices nor do you need to take their abuse. If your grandmother wants to live in a home if you move out that's fine, her life, her decision. You're responsible to live your life only, not every one else's life. Please see the Toolbox.

If you're actively suicidal please see the Emergency links here http://www.outofthefog.website/emergency/ as this forum isn't equipped to handle tat level of problems. It sounds like you've got things under control but I don't want to assume I'm reading it that way if you need immediate help.

When you're feeling up to it please drop by the Welcome Mat with a brief intro to the community.
« Last Edit: December 13, 2016, 09:42:48 AM by Spring Butterfly »
Every interaction w/ PD persons results in damage. Plan accordingly, make time to heal
Individuation is the key to emotional freedom
It's foolish to expect of others what they have no capacity to give
If others were self observant, introspective, this forum would not exist

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DaisyGirl77

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Re: I need to tell my story--LONG. Trigger Warning
« Reply #8 on: December 13, 2016, 11:44:29 PM »
Daisygirl77, thanks for sharing your story. I'm new here and this is so similar to what I've experienced, it's almost scary. I'm glad you got out and hope you're still doing ok. I also hope it's ok that I share a bit.

I'm on the verge of being homeless myself just to get away from it. Been here going on six years and I can't even tell you why I stayed. Except maybe I was programmed as a kid to be feel like I deserve it. Most of Grandma's family, who have their own abusive tendencies, have been against me most of that time. Grandma gets on the phone and dramatizes and blames and then the family gossip mill starts churning -- all of that behind my back. My uncle has even threatened me because of how "horrible" I am, but when we're alone Grandma begs me to never leave her. She plays both sides for kicks. I wish I could say I am perfect and just keep going like a robot servant, but I've been forcing myself to do the bare minimum for a while now, which just makes it worse for me. I'm not pretending that I am perfect, but I do love her and have gone out of my way to help her when no one else would. To make it worse my do-nothing narcissistic father moved in after his ex-wife dumped him. All he does is bicker with grandma and complain about how abusive she is, but doesn't care about improving things, helping out or really about me at all. My sister has also lived here longer than me and does much less. She is either at work or hiding at my Mom's. She avoids grandma, but that also makes it worse for me. We get lumped together by the family as if we are the same person. It's dehumanizing. We are almost never referred to individually, no matter how different we are or no matter how much I try to pick up the slack. If I leave grandma will go to a home, no matter who else is living there. She knows that. That's the only reason I ever get apologies for some of her worst, evil behavior (that would be too long to go into). Whenever she thinks I might leave, that's the only time she considers that she might have done something hurtful.

Sometimes I can't even believe this is my life. I was doing pretty well before this. Been very depressed for at least a year and a half, suicidal. Therapy and medication didn't help much. I just need to get out and restart life. It hurts, but I see now it's the only way.  :sadno:

I hear ya.  I heard a lot of the same stuff you're hearing when I lived with my dad's mom.  I did have therapy for 2 years, & my psychologist watched me deteriorate to the point where she was worried about my mental state by the end.  I was on medication, which kinda helped, kinda didn't, but I'd urge you to find a new therapist to help you.  I'd also reach out to your state to see if you qualify for any services, like emergency housing so you can get out.  If not, sell everything you can so you can run.  Stick whatever you can in storage or with trusted friends if you can.  Make use of the suicide hotline.  I did several times.  They helped calm me down enough to think clearly again.  Call the police whenever you're threatened so you can start building a case for yourself.  If, worse comes to worst down the line, & they start threatening you, you'll have police reports backing you up, & you'll have an easier time of getting a restraining order.  My thoughts are with you, StepbyStep. :hug:
I lived with my dad's uPD mom for 3.5 years.  This is my story:  http://www.outofthefog.net/forum/index.php?topic=59780.0  (TW for abuse descriptions.)

"You are not required to set yourself on fire to keep others warm." - Anonymous

NC with uNM since December 2016.  VLC with uPDF.

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Shockwave

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Re: I need to tell my story--LONG. Trigger Warning
« Reply #9 on: December 26, 2016, 05:36:31 PM »
I really feel for you. I read your whole story. How horrific. It's interesting how at first your grandmother seemed so wonderful then later you saw it. That's what's hard for people to understand. They can hold it together for a while but it always shows up later. However people who don't see them as often can go on forever thinking they are fine and we look like the crazy ones for complaining about how we are treated.

My father too sided with his mother when I was younger. He and her used to gang up on me and yell at me for one thing or another. He always took her side. My mother was a silent enabler. I had no one on my side like you.  "What he did revealed a very deep character flaw within him..." Same here with my father.

(hugs)

Thanks, Adrianna.  My mom was on my side because Dad's mom had done similar things to her when she moved in with my dad before they found their first place together.  She demanded pizza from them (very offensively & very rudely, when she previously didn't want any:  hand stuck out, other hand on hip, "How DARE you order pizza without asking me?!  I want some pizza NOW."), & when my mom was pregnant with me, she bought all kinds of healthy food (salads, yogurt, etc.) that was supposed to last them for the week.  It didn't last a day...  Dad's parents ate everything.  It got to the point where my mom had to lock the food she bought that was meant for me in the trunk of her car because otherwise she'd never be able to eat even a bite.  She said they threw an especially bad tantrum about that when they realized what she'd done.  Even tried to steal the keys from her so they could get into it.
My mother recently tried this stunt with me not too long ago with that pizza incident you experienced. It was a breathtaking sense of entitlement on display that moment.  However,  she still didn't get any food no matter how nasty she got or how many insults she flung in my general direction. 
"Because he's the hero Gotham deserves, but not the one it needs right now. So we'll hunt him. Because he can take it. Because he's not a hero. He's a silent guardian, a watchful protector. A Dark Knight."
-- James Gordon, The Dark Knight

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DaisyGirl77

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Re: I need to tell my story--LONG. Trigger Warning
« Reply #10 on: February 16, 2017, 09:37:55 PM »
I really feel for you. I read your whole story. How horrific. It's interesting how at first your grandmother seemed so wonderful then later you saw it. That's what's hard for people to understand. They can hold it together for a while but it always shows up later. However people who don't see them as often can go on forever thinking they are fine and we look like the crazy ones for complaining about how we are treated.

My father too sided with his mother when I was younger. He and her used to gang up on me and yell at me for one thing or another. He always took her side. My mother was a silent enabler. I had no one on my side like you.  "What he did revealed a very deep character flaw within him..." Same here with my father.

(hugs)

Thanks, Adrianna.  My mom was on my side because Dad's mom had done similar things to her when she moved in with my dad before they found their first place together.  She demanded pizza from them (very offensively & very rudely, when she previously didn't want any:  hand stuck out, other hand on hip, "How DARE you order pizza without asking me?!  I want some pizza NOW."), & when my mom was pregnant with me, she bought all kinds of healthy food (salads, yogurt, etc.) that was supposed to last them for the week.  It didn't last a day...  Dad's parents ate everything.  It got to the point where my mom had to lock the food she bought that was meant for me in the trunk of her car because otherwise she'd never be able to eat even a bite.  She said they threw an especially bad tantrum about that when they realized what she'd done.  Even tried to steal the keys from her so they could get into it.
My mother recently tried this stunt with me not too long ago with that pizza incident you experienced. It was a breathtaking sense of entitlement on display that moment.  However,  she still didn't get any food no matter how nasty she got or how many insults she flung in my general direction.

The pizza incident I described took place when my parents were teenagers, a couple years after they had started dating, I believe.
I lived with my dad's uPD mom for 3.5 years.  This is my story:  http://www.outofthefog.net/forum/index.php?topic=59780.0  (TW for abuse descriptions.)

"You are not required to set yourself on fire to keep others warm." - Anonymous

NC with uNM since December 2016.  VLC with uPDF.