Another victory this weekend - stopped doing things "his" way

[WomanInterrupted]

When he says you need  to make a bigger effort, instead of getting angry (I know - those words are infuriating!  ), stick to a mild, "I did make an effort.  This is all I can do - have your groceries delivered, or you can call somebody else and ask them to shop.  Those are your options."   

You don't have to be mean - you have to be VERY matter-of-fact, like you're explaining it to a toddler.  These are the options - yes or no and there is no third option. 

Oh yes...$2 to deliver food to his vs you driving 50 miles to shop for him... just realize your time means NOTHING to him, and you'll have a much easier time saying, "I can't do it.  If you want something, you need to have it delivered.  That's your only option."   

I used to do that to Ray, too - he'd want me to swing by the grocery store and buy TV dinners that he forgot when he shopped - I'd refuse.  Can't do it.  Busy.  You'll have to make another trip or go without.

Then I wouldn't take any further calls from him for about a week. 

I saw what Ray was doing and suspect your dad is going to start the same, if he hasn't already:  since you're already there, you may as well cut his grass, shovel his snow, change the light bulbs, do the dishes, vacuum, do his laundry, fold his laundry, wash the windows, clean the bathroom, take a look at this funny rash on his backside, see what you can do about tidying up his meds (WARNING!  DO NOT TOUCH THE MEDS!   ), or the other 57,000 things he's been dying to order you to do, so he can say you never visit, but only come to WORK and need to make more of an effort!   

YEAH!  How screwed up is THAT!?  You worked - that's not a visit!  Make an effort!   

Every time I'd start to feel a *wee* bit guilty (I mean, yeah, I could  do what he wanted, but I didn't want to   ), I'd look around me - especially at DH, the pets and our home.   

THIS is what I was fighting for.  ALL of us.  Our right to exist, without me being pressed into service by man who needed adult diapers and *refused to wear them because they're for babies.*   

Yeah - that would have been another of my jobs:   piss and shit girl.   

That job is waiting for you, too, I'd wager - there's nothing MORE prestigious than cleaning up their #1's and #2's!   

Aren't you just so LUCKY he left it for you, so he can talk about it for the next three hours, while you struggle valiantly not to be sick?

They get worse.  They keep getting worse.  Just when you think they can't possibly get worse, they always manage to surprise you with the depths they'll stoop to - like falling the day the Visiting Nurse *just happens* to be coming over, and not pressing his Life Alert Button. 

Look around at your home, your wonderful wife and your kids. THIS is what you are fighting for and you are ALL worth it! 

Your dad is an old man and he had his chance to make arrangements for when he needs help and services.  He chose not to.

That doesn't mean it falls to you.   

Waifs are nearly impossible to shake but it *can* be done by having boundaries made of titanium, and acting like a very strict parent.

You can do this - you just have to take your head out of the game and *detach.*

[MyLifeToo]

I saw what Ray was doing and suspect your dad is going to start the same, if he hasn't already:  since you're already there, you may as well cut his grass, shovel his snow, change the light bulbs, do the dishes, vacuum, do his laundry, fold his laundry, wash the windows, clean the bathroom, take a look at this funny rash on his backside, see what you can do about tidying up his meds (WARNING!  DO NOT TOUCH THE MEDS!   ), or the other 57,000 things he's been dying to order you to do, so he can say you never visit, but only come to WORK and need to make more of an effort!   

YEAH!  How screwed up is THAT!?  You worked - that's not a visit!  Make an effort!   

OMG, you've just described my life, WI. Not had to  physically deal with pee and poop yet but it's certainly entering the conversations more and more, and guess what - last weekend I touched the meds and sent her into a blind panic when I'd gone. You've given loads of sound advice to me and others, yet I still struggle to carry it through. I'm still feeling and acting like a naughty girl, with her hand in the cookie jar, desperate to make the waif happy.

[lkdrymom]

P123--this was from the other forum you are on.  A woman who was an elder in need posted about how people who help her NEED to do things HER way because she knows better.  I went off on her. I told her no one really wanted or had the time to do all her chores too so if someone was helping her it was very unfair of her to make their job so much harder than it needed to be.  I think these people get some sort of sick joy knowing that you are willing to be highly inconvenienced for their sake.  The rest of us need to learn to say "this is what I am willing to do for you, if it is not to your liking you can find this service elsewhere".

[Psuedonym]

Mine did exactly the same thing with the grocery delivery. Resisted it for months even though the best grocery store around delivers for ridiculously cheap. It took an ultimatum of 'do you want groceries or not?' to get over that.

Hazy, I've read a lot on BPD but this is just so dead on:
If your Borderline Waif can't get you to rescue her by acting helpless, hopeless and pitiful, he/she will shame you, shut you out or rage at you. Waifs are frustrated when their "poor me" tactics fail to get them what they want--and that's when you get lambasted for being a "bad" lover, friend, son, daughter, therapist, etc. The waif mother persistently controls her children in this way. If they don't respond to her victim/martyr act, there's literally hell to pay! The rejection, shame and guilt her children are forced to endure, isn't worth the anguish of failing to respond to her demands.

I think I'm going to have to look up Shari Schreiber. Did that come from a book or an article of hers? Thanks for that!

[Adrianna]

Don't know where that excerpt came from but I'm reading "Understanding the Borderline Mother" by Christine Ann Lawson and it's absolutely incredible. Worth every penny even though it's expensive.

[Psuedonym]

Hey Arianna,

Understanding the Borderline Mother was the first book I read on BPD and it is amazing.

I found the article: https://sharischreiber.com/borderline-waifs-and-unsung-heroes/ which is mostly about romantic relationships but has some gems about parents in there as well. This one: A BPD Waif will retreat or shut down on you emotionally, when the/she is upset. She might not speak to you for days or weeks at a time, and a mother who does this to her child is abandoning him/her in the most sadistic way imaginable.

That's Negatron to a T. Would not speak to me for a week at a time and walk around slamming every door and cupboard in the house over some perceived insult over someone having a different opinion than hers. Honestly I didn't really understand until just now how that was more than incredibly childish and stupid. Huh.

Still reading this article and wow. So much here. It's really a must read.

[Free2Bme]

Bravo P123 !   

That is an awesome step in the right direction. 

[Adrianna]

Hey Arianna,

Understanding the Borderline Mother was the first book I read on BPD and it is amazing.

I found the article: https://sharischreiber.com/borderline-waifs-and-unsung-heroes/ which is mostly about romantic relationships but has some gems about parents in there as well. This one: A BPD Waif will retreat or shut down on you emotionally, when the/she is upset. She might not speak to you for days or weeks at a time, and a mother who does this to her child is abandoning him/her in the most sadistic way imaginable.

That's Negatron to a T. Would not speak to me for a week at a time and walk around slamming every door and cupboard in the house over some perceived insult over someone having a different opinion than hers. Honestly I didn't really understand until just now how that was more than incredibly childish and stupid. Huh.

Still reading this article and wow. So much here. It's really a must read.

Just read the article. That was a tough read. The part about wanting to take a shower after interacting with the toxic sludge and guilt trips was spot on.

It continually amazes me how much of our adult life is shaped subconsciously by childhood trauma. I think I'm finally able to spot a toxic person but it took me a long time to get there. I had a pd friend who really drove this point home for me. I was groomed to be a fixer, people pleaser, and almost never put myself first. I made excuses, enabled others bad behavior, and hoped, beyond all hope, to be loved by people who can't love me back.

The only way to get through the childhood programming is to go educate ourselves on personality disorders and go through the pain. Not working on it means we keep repeating the same patterns subconsciously with different people. Same issue different person. It's hard to believe how many narcissistic people I've come across. I hope I'm much better now at seeing the signs, mainly lack of empathy, as a huge red flag.

[p123]

Yup, that's UbpdM in a nutshell. Here, take the life preserver! "oh but I tried that..." and repeat, and repeat, into infinity and beyond. 

Oh my goodness! Yes, a million times yes! I think I'd better read that book.

A quick example: it took me months to persuade her to get her groceries online and delivered. At first I suspect know she was reluctant because it meant I wouldn't be manipulated to go visit. "Oh but I must go out",  "Oh, poor me, I can't go out, but I need to choose my own produce", excuse on excuse. Eventually when i wouldn't drive over 2 hours to get her shopping she relented. Her shopping was duly delivered, she was relieved, I was too! This lasted about 3 deliveries. Now I get "but you have to be here because I can't put it all away"! Of course she can. If she can get it out of the cupboards to eat it, she can certainly reach to put it in. 

Oh this is my life....

He likes things from a certain supermarket (Morrisons for those in the uk). Co-incidentally theres one 1/2 mile from my house but none with 15 miles of his house. Funny that eh?

I bought him a chest freezer. He likes these certain frozen meals from morrisons. So he asks me get his shopping and spends around £20-£25. Theres like one layer of food in his freezer like 5% full.

In the past, when I've bought more hes tried to tell me "he didnt think food would keep more than a week in the freezer" (no-one is that stupid), and "he doesn't want to spend more money in one go" (hes got £40K in the bank. Its a scam to play the old "got no food in the house" trick.

I've tried the home delivery. I do On Call at work and I told I'm not visiting if I've been working all night. All sorts of excuses "I'm not paying for delivery" (its £2 - its cheaper than me driving 50 miles round trip, "I dont want strangers knocking my door" (hope the post office never have a parcel then!).

One day I did get called and couldn't go. Week leading up he was "desperate for food", "you really need to make an effort this weekend". Hate those comments.
So It happened - no chance of me visiting, I'll order online for you Dad since you're SO short of food.

"Oh I've checked and I'll manage after all". I was fuming mad. He does not want to open pandoras box of home delivery because it means he loses some guilt trip power.

p123, I think we need to get your F and my M together! I've noticed so many similarities in your posts, both in their behaviour as our unwillingness to hurt their feelings. They could try to out-waif each other, lol.  M has now decided she only really like food from M&S, who, of course, don't have a delivery service. She's got plenty of money, could afford taxis, could afford to pay for help, but denies she really needs it.

Haha yes maybe we should!

Oh no didnt know M&S didnt do delivery! Not telling Dad that or he'll switch to them to make 100% sure I cant get it delivered!

[p123]

When he says you need  to make a bigger effort, instead of getting angry (I know - those words are infuriating!  ), stick to a mild, "I did make an effort.  This is all I can do - have your groceries delivered, or you can call somebody else and ask them to shop.  Those are your options."   

You don't have to be mean - you have to be VERY matter-of-fact, like you're explaining it to a toddler.  These are the options - yes or no and there is no third option. 

Oh yes...$2 to deliver food to his vs you driving 50 miles to shop for him... just realize your time means NOTHING to him, and you'll have a much easier time saying, "I can't do it.  If you want something, you need to have it delivered.  That's your only option."   

I used to do that to Ray, too - he'd want me to swing by the grocery store and buy TV dinners that he forgot when he shopped - I'd refuse.  Can't do it.  Busy.  You'll have to make another trip or go without.

Then I wouldn't take any further calls from him for about a week. 

I saw what Ray was doing and suspect your dad is going to start the same, if he hasn't already:  since you're already there, you may as well cut his grass, shovel his snow, change the light bulbs, do the dishes, vacuum, do his laundry, fold his laundry, wash the windows, clean the bathroom, take a look at this funny rash on his backside, see what you can do about tidying up his meds (WARNING!  DO NOT TOUCH THE MEDS!   ), or the other 57,000 things he's been dying to order you to do, so he can say you never visit, but only come to WORK and need to make more of an effort!   

YEAH!  How screwed up is THAT!?  You worked - that's not a visit!  Make an effort!   

Every time I'd start to feel a *wee* bit guilty (I mean, yeah, I could  do what he wanted, but I didn't want to   ), I'd look around me - especially at DH, the pets and our home.   

THIS is what I was fighting for.  ALL of us.  Our right to exist, without me being pressed into service by man who needed adult diapers and *refused to wear them because they're for babies.*   

Yeah - that would have been another of my jobs:   piss and shit girl.   

That job is waiting for you, too, I'd wager - there's nothing MORE prestigious than cleaning up their #1's and #2's!   

Aren't you just so LUCKY he left it for you, so he can talk about it for the next three hours, while you struggle valiantly not to be sick?

They get worse.  They keep getting worse.  Just when you think they can't possibly get worse, they always manage to surprise you with the depths they'll stoop to - like falling the day the Visiting Nurse *just happens* to be coming over, and not pressing his Life Alert Button. 

Look around at your home, your wonderful wife and your kids. THIS is what you are fighting for and you are ALL worth it! 

Your dad is an old man and he had his chance to make arrangements for when he needs help and services.  He chose not to.

That doesn't mean it falls to you.   

Waifs are nearly impossible to shake but it *can* be done by having boundaries made of titanium, and acting like a very strict parent.

You can do this - you just have to take your head out of the game and *detach.*

You mention the 1s and 2s. Went away 6 months ago. Not sure if I mentioned - he peed himself in my car. (He had a problem which I didnt know about but he hadnt been to see the doctor. Neither had he bought ant pads - too expensive!)

Anyway, even though we were going away for 2 nights he took ZERO spare clothes. Bad enought he didnt plan to change (it was very hot at the time too!).
So anyway theres pee everywhere. Were staying a 4 star hotel. He was up for walking in and "putting the clothes on the radiator to dry". Ewww. (Let alone walking across reception soaking wet with pee!.

So I said no way we are buying some clothes. So into supermarket, bought clothes, shoved him into toliets. He wanted me to change him! Ewww no way. You dress every day on your own I'm NOT doing it.

Gets worse. Got to the hotel and he decided to have a shower. He wanted me to wash him. No!!!!!!!!!!!! I think I was sick in my mouth a bit!

[Hazy111]

Hi, Pseudonym, yes to your questions. Thats a quote from Shari Schreiber from the site you quoted. That and the  Christine Lawson book "Understanding the Borderline Mother" i learnt an awful awful lot. Theres a lot of a it about , when you know recognise the behaviors!  I would say i know personally 12 Borderlines not including family members.

Adrianna,   "Our past is always in our present"

[WomanInterrupted]

Okay - I have to put this out there:  your BOUNDARY is that your car  is now OFF LIMITS, PERIOD.    

If your dad wants to come to your house and go home, he's got to find his OWN rides to and from.  If he expects you to drive him anywhere - NOPE.  He'll have to find another way - you can't do it. 

By the time Ray popped up on my radar, I was a lean, mean boundary machine and I wasn't putting up with much, at all - and one of the biggest things I wasn't putting up with was crappy, entitled behavior that put me at some sort of disadvantage, harmed me and my FOC - or damaged our stuff.   

That car fiasco, where your dad peed in the car?  This is what I would have done:

Put in at the nearest petrol station and admonish him to go clean up in the wash room.  The second the door was shut, I'd have LEFT, gone home, and let HIM figure out what to do, from there. 

After I cleaned the car up, I would have sent him a *bill.* 

If he refused to pay, he could listen to my lecture about NEVER asking me for another ride, as long as he lived. 

THAT is a deal-breaker - as was everything that came after it BUT it shows you what he really wants:  he wants to be the *baby* while YOU are the parent (slave, always at his beck and call). 

Didi and Ray *each * wanted to be babies - and wound up as orphans, instead.  You're going to act like THAT and have THOSE kinds of expectations:  dress me!  Clean me!  Feed me!  Burp me!  Medicate me!  Take me to the doctor!  Entertain me!  Pay for all my stuff!  Diaper me!  Powder my tooshie! - NOPE.  Not happening. 

UnNPD Ray...okay, Ray has been psychotic most (if not all) of his adult life, which explains why he acted like an  overgrown, under-socialized 3-5 year old - the kind of kid who sees other kids crowded around you, so he just pushes or knocks them all out of the way to crow, "LOOK AT MEEEEEEEEEEEE!"   

Ray had just made the mistake of telling me he's incontinent *again* and adult diapers are for babies, not adults.  He then waved his competency hearing paper at me and demanded I drive him.  I didn't even look at the date, and told him I was busy.

Ray, just like kid, retorted, "WHY?"   

Me:  "Because I'm busy." 

Him:  "WHY?" 

Me:  "I just told you why.  I'm busy." 

Him:  "Well, what am I supposed to DO!?" 

Me:  "Take a cab." 

Him:  "I don't want to BOTHER them." 

Me:  "You're not.  You're paying them.  That's how they make money."   

Him:  "Why can't I pay you?" 

Me:  "Because I'm busy.  Asked and answered." 

Him:  "Then I'm going to have to wear one of those Depends things!  I can't afford those!  They cost a lot of money!"   

WHOOOMP!  There it is!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

And yeah - like your Dad, Ray had WELL over $40K in the bank! 

I took a deep breath, looked him dead in the eye and said, "You'd have to wear one in my car, too." 

Ray, screaming:  "You can't make me wear one of those g-damned things!  I have RIGHTS!  This is AMERICA!"   

Me:  ZEN  calm  - "Well, it's a moot point because I'm busy and not driving you.  However, if you think it's okay to shit and piss in my Jeep, you'll be paying off the loan, and it will be YOURS." 

He never brought up driving him again because he knew I was dead serious. 

We know money is your dad's Achilles' heel - if he asks for a ride, mention his last little adventure in incontinence and if he does it again, he'll be the proud owner of your car, paying you a fair market price - or you'll see him in court. 

If he thinks you're joking - draw up a *contract* and have him *sign it.* 

"I, P123's dad (full name), hereby swear that if I urinate, defecate or both in P123's car, I will pay fair market value for it (insert price here) within 30 days, and become the owner of said vehicle, which will be my responsibility to garage, MOT, and insure.  Signed on this date__________ by P123's father____________ and P123______________."

It's a simple contract and you can probably find out how to word it, online - and he'll never sign it, or probably bring it up again because you've not only attached *consequences* but they're going to *cost him MONEY!*

Like Ray, I don't think it's a chance he's going to take! 

If you REALLY want to push the envelope, from now on, I'd tell him he owes you $20 an hour for ALL things you do for him - and if he refuses to pay, you don't do.  The vending machine doesn't dispense the treat if you don't insert money. 

Once I started *hounding* Ray about items he said he'd pay me back for, but constantly "forgot" to - to the point he actually did pay me - he stopped asking for things, which was fine with me!

So...think about that, too.

[Andeza]

I second the suggestion of WI in every aspect. If anybody other than my eight month old son were to pee in my car, the following would occur:

1) they would receive a bill for professional shampooing of the interior. Cause urine is nasty and hard to get out.

2 they would be banned immediately and permanently from my vehicle.

3 I would never, ever sit on any surface in their house ever again. Ever.  Let that one, and all its glory sink in for a minute. Just ew.

Peeing in the freaking car! Refusing diapers when they are clearly needed! This is not aging gracefully! Blegh.

[p123]

WI you are an absolute star. I can't stop laughing.....   

OK I'll give you the full story. You'll love this.....

I'd planned to take him away to watch the cricket. 100 miles away 2 hours drive.Staying in the Hilton.
My car was off the road so I'd hired a car to go.

I knew he needed the toilet a fair bit but he wasnt that bad (so I thought!) 2 hours drive no problem.
Until we got stuck in a jam on the motorway. 10 mins - Pee everywhere.

We were nearly there. He admitted that he had a problem but "hadn't bothered to go to the GP" and hadn't bought pads or pants "because they cost £10" and he was waiting to ask the District Nurse (i.e. get the free crap ones). Not impressed.

So then he wants to check into the hotel (i.e. walk in covered in pee!). Admitted he had no other clothes but "they'll dry". NO!!!!!!!!!!
So I stopped at supermarket, bought new clothes, (he moaned a LOT) and shoved him in the toilet. This is when he wanted me to change him. NO!!!!!

So we go out in the evening. 10 mins in the car. Zooming around in a city center. Pile into MCdonalds. Too late. Pee all down his leg. (McD was packed too!).
So same again, MORE clothes.

Day to go home. He tried to say "oh it'll be ok if I have another accident in the car. Its just you and me. So we'll just get home" In other words, if I pee again, you can put up with me stinking of pee for hours because you don't mind!. NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Made him buy proper pads. £10. Expensive weekend for him with two extra sets of clothes...

As for the car, well it was a rental car. I had to scrub the seats a little but it wasn't stained so I guess they didn't notice. Yes I'm going to hell because someone else had to sit in that passenger seat next time it was rented out. 

My dear wife has got a brand new mercedes with leather seats (its a lease/work car shes a community nurse). NO WAY is he going in there ever!

Has he bought more pads now? Nope. Has he been to the doctor to discuss? Nope.

[p123]

I second the suggestion of WI in every aspect. If anybody other than my eight month old son were to pee in my car, the following would occur:

1) they would receive a bill for professional shampooing of the interior. Cause urine is nasty and hard to get out.

2 they would be banned immediately and permanently from my vehicle.

3 I would never, ever sit on any surface in their house ever again. Ever.  Let that one, and all its glory sink in for a minute. Just ew.

Peeing in the freaking car! Refusing diapers when they are clearly needed! This is not aging gracefully! Blegh.

Should see the state of the toilet in the house!

[WomanInterrupted]

Ah yes...Ray's toilet/bathroom was nearly as bad as, "The Worst Toilet In Scotland" from the movie Trainspotting!   

That whole "adventure" with the car, cricket and him soiling himself?

That was a *test* to see  what he could get away with. 

He figured out what you will and won't put up with, but more importantly *he was made to spend his own money on clothes and adult diapers.* 

I wish you would have stuck him with the rental car bill, too - or any fines for the smell.   

Don't *ever* put yourself in a position - or allow yourself to be manipulated into - that kind of situation again.  From now on, NO  BS, and ALL boundaries, all the way. 

I wouldn't take him out in *any* car, ever again, but if you do, he wets himself?  That's it.  He gets OUT, you call him a cab and drive away, leaving him stranded. 

That will put a stop to THAT - especially when he has no choice but to pay the cabbie. 

Good for you for not changing or scrubbing him, too - and no, I wouldn't put up with sitting next to somebody who smells like pee, either.   

In my mind, your father has completely *blown it* for ANY trips to anywhere with you - including your house.  As I said before, if he wants to come and you want him there, he can take a cab - and take one home again, too.

Back when Didi was alive, she loved watermelon rind pickles, which I'll explain to you, since you've probably never heard of them, being English and sensible and all.  I don't think they made the transition across the Pond.

Okay - they're a Southern thing, where you pickle watermelon rinds in a super-sweet brine, which has vinegar, a ton of sugar and a bunch of spices.  It's like eating melon candy, IMO - and I don't like them.   

I'd rather eat the good part of the melon and throw out the rinds, but recipes like this came from an era where you had nothing, so you used everything you had, rind and all.

I live in the Northeast US.  So did Didi - but her hometown was 3 miles to the south and housed  one of the largest Union prison camps, which is now a state penitentiary.  A *lot* of Southern staples are still popular in her hometown, because many Confederate soldiers settled in the area. 

Food and history lesson over.    Now you know the necessary hows and whys. 

Didi was griping that IF she could find them, the pickles were $7 for a tiny jar, which really is ridiculous, with how little it takes to actually make them - and I stupidly agreed to do it, thinking MAYBE I could finally get one thing right and get her approval.  (Yes, I was still in the FOG.) 

For $4 in ingredients, I made her a quart of those pickles - she loved them and even paid me for the ingredients, saying they were *better* than the kind in the tiny jar!

Oh, little did I know I was being set up to be played!   

The next time I went over, the jar is empty and sitting on the table.  I asked if she wanted more - and that's how she trained me.   

This time, they were too hard, when I'd done exactly what the recipe said - boiled the rinds for 5 minutes in salted water.  And it took her a week to pay me back.  She kept "forgetting." 

I didn't hear anything for a while and Didi finally admitted she'd let the pickles go bad, because they hurt her mouth - instead of oh, *boiling them again for another 5  minutes or so!* - or asking ME to do  it! 

She'd let them get moldy - can she get more?  She'll pay me!   

I boiled them for 10 minutes - nope, still too hard - and no, she didn't pay me.

She ate them all but complained.  I boiled the next batch for 20 minutes - still too hard and still no money - and then she requested more, with the promise to pay.

I said sure and thought about whipping out the pressure cooker - but then said, "She's just going to find something else to complain about, so no.  And I'm never going to be paid for all the other pickles.  She treats it like  she's ordering from a vending machine and I just pop 'em out.  That stops NOW." 

So...I stopped making her pickles.  She complained endlessly - she NEEDED them BUT I had to figure out a way to soften them up (I'd TRIED and the pressure cooker was only going to reduce them to mush, which she'd complain about!) - I told her I'd see what I could do, just to shut her up.

BUT...it's also Medium Chill.  And what I could do was *not a damned thing.* 

Every time she asked about food (I'd also made steamed jasmine rice and crisp-cooked, flat-freezer packed American bacon for her, which she also treated like orders!), that's the answer she'd get:  I'll see what I can do. 

I wanted to tell her that once she paid for all that food she ate, there might be a hope in hell of getting more, but I didn't want to encourage her or get her hopes up.  She broke the Dutiful Food Vending Machine - and I wasn't going to repair it. 

It took me forever to realize I was being tested and used, but once I did, I never let it happen again.  Frankly, I was more disgusted with myself for not seeing it for so  long, knowing she was never going to change.

I had to be mad at somebody.  Why not myself? 

But I did forgive myself, and promised myself it wouldn't happen in the future - and it never did.  She pulled out all the stops, even wailing that she thought I'd forgotten she's my mooooooooooooooother  -  I told  her she was being silly and I was very busy, that's all.  No time to cook.   

Once you *realize* you're being tested, played, manipulated and used, it's a lot easier to make it STOP.

Your father is just going to keep pulling stunts like this - your job is to *avoid him and let him do for himself, without your help or intervention.* 

[p123]

Ah yes...Ray's toilet/bathroom was nearly as bad as, "The Worst Toilet In Scotland" from the movie Trainspotting!   

That whole "adventure" with the car, cricket and him soiling himself?

That was a *test* to see  what he could get away with. 

He figured out what you will and won't put up with, but more importantly *he was made to spend his own money on clothes and adult diapers.* 

I wish you would have stuck him with the rental car bill, too - or any fines for the smell.   

Don't *ever* put yourself in a position - or allow yourself to be manipulated into - that kind of situation again.  From now on, NO  BS, and ALL boundaries, all the way. 

I wouldn't take him out in *any* car, ever again, but if you do, he wets himself?  That's it.  He gets OUT, you call him a cab and drive away, leaving him stranded. 

That will put a stop to THAT - especially when he has no choice but to pay the cabbie. 

Good for you for not changing or scrubbing him, too - and no, I wouldn't put up with sitting next to somebody who smells like pee, either.   

In my mind, your father has completely *blown it* for ANY trips to anywhere with you - including your house.  As I said before, if he wants to come and you want him there, he can take a cab - and take one home again, too.

Back when Didi was alive, she loved watermelon rind pickles, which I'll explain to you, since you've probably never heard of them, being English and sensible and all.  I don't think they made the transition across the Pond.

Okay - they're a Southern thing, where you pickle watermelon rinds in a super-sweet brine, which has vinegar, a ton of sugar and a bunch of spices.  It's like eating melon candy, IMO - and I don't like them.   

I'd rather eat the good part of the melon and throw out the rinds, but recipes like this came from an era where you had nothing, so you used everything you had, rind and all.

I live in the Northeast US.  So did Didi - but her hometown was 3 miles to the south and housed  one of the largest Union prison camps, which is now a state penitentiary.  A *lot* of Southern staples are still popular in her hometown, because many Confederate soldiers settled in the area. 

Food and history lesson over.    Now you know the necessary hows and whys. 

Didi was griping that IF she could find them, the pickles were $7 for a tiny jar, which really is ridiculous, with how little it takes to actually make them - and I stupidly agreed to do it, thinking MAYBE I could finally get one thing right and get her approval.  (Yes, I was still in the FOG.) 

For $4 in ingredients, I made her a quart of those pickles - she loved them and even paid me for the ingredients, saying they were *better* than the kind in the tiny jar!

Oh, little did I know I was being set up to be played!   

The next time I went over, the jar is empty and sitting on the table.  I asked if she wanted more - and that's how she trained me.   

This time, they were too hard, when I'd done exactly what the recipe said - boiled the rinds for 5 minutes in salted water.  And it took her a week to pay me back.  She kept "forgetting." 

I didn't hear anything for a while and Didi finally admitted she'd let the pickles go bad, because they hurt her mouth - instead of oh, *boiling them again for another 5  minutes or so!* - or asking ME to do  it! 

She'd let them get moldy - can she get more?  She'll pay me!   

I boiled them for 10 minutes - nope, still too hard - and no, she didn't pay me.

She ate them all but complained.  I boiled the next batch for 20 minutes - still too hard and still no money - and then she requested more, with the promise to pay.

I said sure and thought about whipping out the pressure cooker - but then said, "She's just going to find something else to complain about, so no.  And I'm never going to be paid for all the other pickles.  She treats it like  she's ordering from a vending machine and I just pop 'em out.  That stops NOW." 

So...I stopped making her pickles.  She complained endlessly - she NEEDED them BUT I had to figure out a way to soften them up (I'd TRIED and the pressure cooker was only going to reduce them to mush, which she'd complain about!) - I told her I'd see what I could do, just to shut her up.

BUT...it's also Medium Chill.  And what I could do was *not a damned thing.* 

Every time she asked about food (I'd also made steamed jasmine rice and crisp-cooked, flat-freezer packed American bacon for her, which she also treated like orders!), that's the answer she'd get:  I'll see what I can do. 

I wanted to tell her that once she paid for all that food she ate, there might be a hope in hell of getting more, but I didn't want to encourage her or get her hopes up.  She broke the Dutiful Food Vending Machine - and I wasn't going to repair it. 

It took me forever to realize I was being tested and used, but once I did, I never let it happen again.  Frankly, I was more disgusted with myself for not seeing it for so  long, knowing she was never going to change.

I had to be mad at somebody.  Why not myself? 

But I did forgive myself, and promised myself it wouldn't happen in the future - and it never did.  She pulled out all the stops, even wailing that she thought I'd forgotten she's my mooooooooooooooother  -  I told  her she was being silly and I was very busy, that's all.  No time to cook.   

Once you *realize* you're being tested, played, manipulated and used, it's a lot easier to make it STOP.

Your father is just going to keep pulling stunts like this - your job is to *avoid him and let him do for himself, without your help or intervention.* 

Thanks WI. I think the thing that annoyed most about pee-gate and the thing that always annoys me is HE NEVER HELPS HIMSELF.

He knew he had a pee problem that a lot of older men get but had he been to the doctor to sort something out - NO
He knew pads were available that would, at the very least, mitigate the problem (although I see they do some that are totally waterproof). Did he buy any? NO

Thats him all over."It'll be alright" or "no need to waste money". I can tell he was thinking, it'll be ok, I'll just p to stop a few times so I can go to the bathroom .Didn't think traffic jam at all!

Same with the spare clothes. Its minging to go away and not have a change of clothes. In his head, its fine - no need to change (or wash).
And the idea that I was going to change him and wash him. Ewwwww!

I have taken him in the car since. I've told him "no waterproof pads, no car ride" now. He hates it. Last time I made hims how me the packet. He had the "free" ones from the NHS i.e. from the District Nurse. The crap ones in other words that the NHS buy. Nope didnt pass the test - no ride until you buy the decent ones....

Finally, "wi'n byw yn gymru" I LIVE IN WALES. 

So deffo not English. I will forgive you just this once! :-)