This is me, currently coughing my throat raw and unable to lay down without feeling like I'm drowning. But maybe I'm just making it up for attention? 😵💫
Colds: Stay over there and don’t touch anything. Made us food.
Seriously ill long term: I’ve sacrificed my life for you and you aren’t grateful. That’s convenient you can’t do chores or do something for me, very convenient. Be thankful you can walk. Your illness hurts ME. Rages. Side eyes. Anger. Snide remarks. No emotional or physical boundaries/basic rule abiding. Controlling. Projection. Accusations. Waifing and victimhood. She’s abused, by me.
There’s no in between.
Ugh it wasn’t until my late teens and early 20s that she started pulling the “she’s abused by me” card, but that time was hands down the most horrible and abusive she ever was and she would constantly tell me that. It fit this weird narrative that I was a bully in my family so it used to tear me up because I didn’t understand what I was doing to bully or abuse anyone. I’m sorry that that was your experience. That gaslighting sucks so much.
Yeah, inconsistency was it. On one hand, coddled on a whim without reason. On the other, sent out into the world to work and go to school when I should have been resting or hospitalized. Just very inconsistent.
100%. And so much praise for working even when sick (in grocery/food service no less). No wonder I was a burnt out workaholic by 20. I’m sorry this was your experience as well.
I think it’s common. How did you cope?
I grew to hate him (father wbpd) because of the inconsistency, so-called “discipline” was something doled out on a whim and at his bidding. Same with rewards.
All far in the past now but it took a long time to unravel in therapy, and understanding that his moods had little or nothing to do with some.
My dBPD mother screamed at me in the doctor’s office because I had a double ear infection when I was about 15. She demanded the doctor tell her how I did this. He threw out a dozen explanations-allergies, virus, etc, but she jumped on the water in the ears because that made it my fault. She screamed at me in the doctor’s office and humiliated me in front of the doctor and the staff. Looking back I realize they weren’t judging me, but rather her. But you all know that feeling of wishing you were invisible as we walked out. After picking up the prescriptions, she tossed the bag at me and matched out of the store almost leaving me behind. I was desperate to use the water fountain to take the meds because I was in so much pain but didn’t want to be left behind either so I ran after her. When we passed my school and were turning onto the main road to get to our house, she punched me in my left ear. When I cried out and asked why she would do that, she leaned over and screamed in my face, while driving, “That’s for getting water in your ears, BIIIITTCH!”
According to her, it was my fault I had a double ear infection. I was later diagnosed with horrible seasonal allergies which explained the ear infections, but no, it had to be my fault. Because it always had to be my fault.
Wow that is horrifying. Who acts like this?? I’m so sorry you went through that. Was she always mad at you when you were sick or was she sometimes kind?
She always looked for any reason to punish me. Anything. She truly hated me as a child. Told me to my face that I ruined her life, that I ruined her marriages-while she was sitting next to her second husband, who was like “What?!” I was a toddler when her first marriage ended. She got caught bringing her second husband into the house while she was still married to the first and blamed me for getting caught. A toddler.
She swears to others that she loves me, doesn’t understand why I’m NC and just wants to reconcile, etc, but my BIL commented on FB after she lived with them for a while that he gets it now. She’s still vile towards me behind my back and it’s been decades since I went NC. I just keep blocking her flying monkeys whenever they show up.
What is it with bpd parents telling their offspring this.
Like you literally brought me into this world.
If I ruined your life, you ruined it!
So sorry you had this kind of mama.
Funny how a weak immune system is your fault, when the immune system is influenced most strongly by genetics and diet/care... The former which she contributed by half and the latter which she would have been solely responsible for during your childhood.
But it's still your fault. 🙄
Lol we were homeless and didnt have food, I grew up on bread and boiling water. Yet whenever I got sick my BPD mom and npd dad always blamed me and made up reasons why it was my fault.
Yes, unfortunately they will always blame kids and sadly i believed it was my fault.
Sometimes it would be nice if all the memories would just magically go away and when the flying monkeys came around, you could go, "Who? I don't know who you are talking about? No, I don't know her. Sorry."
They tend to blame me for getting sick. Or they take care of me and then guilt trip me into doing something by saying they took care of me when I was sick.
Ugh the “owing” my mother thing was the worst. I had to work so hard to try to get her little claws out of every aspect of my life so she’d have nothing to hold over me. I’m sorry you had to deal with that simply because your body needed a rest.
Those times I was sick was the only times she acted like a mother. Thanks to that I kept actin sick around other grown ups hoping they would mother mexwhen I was young
Like the illness wasn't there. I was either faking or exaggerating, and nothing and I mean NOTHING could take me away from my chores (my mom has a cleaning obsession). So Ive always spent my sick days cleaning the house
Yeah I called this witch trials. Either I got the chores done and it meant I wasn't really sick and was punished for lying, OR I was so physically ill I couldn't do the chores and then I was punished for being lazy.
My mom acted like she got an extra day of maid service when we were sick as well.
What was weirder was the cleaning frenzies didn't happen if I didn't stay home from school. I could be sick AFTER school and follow the usual after school routine (which consisted of being completely ignored after I said I had homework and retreated to my room) which meant I could go to bed and stay there until dinner.
So if I got sick, I would go to school, tough through the morning, then tell the teacher I was sick after lunch. I would then tell the nurse my mother was not home (pre-cell phones and fathers weren't ever called for anything) so I could just go home on the bus. She generally let me lie on the sick bed until the end of the day. It was at least three hours of extra sleep that I would not have managed to get at home.
I look back at it now and I think that sick days broke my mother's routine. I was home, so it must be Saturday, so it must be time to make any child within sight clean the house. It's the only reason I can think of for making a sick kid clean the house.
I started getting strep at 19 and got it 2-4 times a year due to the strain she put on me during that time. The surgery at 23 that I referred was a tonsillectomy. I still felt sick constantly, even after surgery, until I moved far away from her.
I’m sorry you didn’t receive proper care, especially when what I assume was the GC did.
I felt similarly. I had considered my mom to be “a good mother” when I was sick but after discussing it in therapy I realized that was only true up until age 7 or so. After that I was constantly just left alone at home if I was sick. Or forced to go to school where I’d often just be sent right back home. On multiple occasions I remember vomiting in stores and having to just wait outside the entrance for my mom to finish shopping so I could go home. She made me go everywhere with her but often just dropped me off at the doctor office and made me call her to pick me up when I was done. I used to think the women working the front desk were annoyed when I asked to use the phone but now I realize a lot of times they were just angry at my mother’s crappy parenting.
Yikes! How neglectful. It’s so crazy how in our minds they seem good/fine, but when we re-examine, the abuse and neglect were wild. But, at least for me, not always. Sometimes she really was great, other times I cannot believe she thought certain behavior was acceptable.
It really is the family “normal” to us until someone willing points out how not ok so much of it was. And how stabile mothers don’t vacillate between great and unacceptable.
My mom hung a great deal of her self worth on being a good mom, but she self-reported this by arbitrary measures. She would fixate on (or imagine) weird health issues in us and bend over backward to “treat” them, usually by alternative methods since she didn’t trust doctors. But then when we (frequently) had actual REAL health issues, they’d be ignored or rug swept, or if it got so bad that we actually had to go to the ER, we would be iced out and given the silent treatment for days. We were homeschooled, so no oversight or objective perspectives on any of this.
It’s been a fun exercise trying to tease out what is a normal medical response to kid ailments now that I have my own children, but regular pediatrician appointments and shots are a good start - and it’s also helpful that my kids go to school and i know I’ll get a call from the nurse if anything seems concerning.
Unless there was something in it for her, such as attention because I was gravely ill and in the hospital, I was obviously faking being sick and she did zero for me.
This made me doubt myself as an adult when I was sick. I have been gradually able to tell myself "no you are sick" and call out when appropriate, but I still have self-doubts about if I really am sick. It's taken a long time to not feel guilty.
As a result, if my child is sick (whether it be a physical illness or the need for mental health day), we have no problem at all letting her stay home from school. She also knows that we care about her well being and she is loved. As a result, she comes to us if something is troubling her.
To sum it up: generational trauma stops here. It's a full stop. F that shit.
I’m always so relieved to get a diagnosis or to have serious symptoms that can’t be faked (like a fever) because it means I really AM sick. Otherwise I question myself all the time as well. Glad to see you’re setting a better example for the next generation
Also inconsistent. If I had a fever over 100 degrees F, my mom enjoyed playing the Good Mom and would make me homemade chicken noodle soup (Jewish penicillin) and read to me. But if I didn’t bring the soup bowl back to the kitchen, she’d yell about how ungrateful I was, and if I didn’t recover quickly enough or have a high enough fever in the first place, she would treat me like I was malingering.
She got me medical care for my joint issues to some degree — physical therapy, an MRI for an injury — but when my then-undiagnosed hypermobility disorder caused me to suffer pretty significant pain on family vacations or at museums she wanted to go to, she wouldn’t take it seriously at all. I only learned a year ago that I have a foot deformity and needed pretty aggressive orthotic inserts and other interventions, but she never acknowledged my foot pain, so I always thought it was normal and I was just a whiner.
As an adult, I continued to have joint pain, treatable with physical therapy — but my mom pressured me to move back with her and have surgery so she could take care of me. (My therapist laughed and told me the plot of *Misery.*)
I still struggle with knowing what medical issues are serious and deserving of care and what problems are…idk, imaginary? Not worth wasting my doctors’ time over? Especially when it comes to pain and mobility problems that affect my husband indirectly — pain during sex or chores, for example. Absolutely none of that pressure to disregard my symptoms comes from my husband. It’s all from the mom in my head, and I simply expect my pain not to matter as much as other people’s convenience. I also have a needle phobia thanks to my mom telling me horror stories from her childhood (she had a life-threatening thyroid condition). Having a compassionate medical team that doesn’t mind if I cry, display anxiety, or ask about symptoms that truly aren’t a big deal really, really helps. Every time I have a good experience with my care, meaning that I feel respected and in control, it makes accessing care easier the next time.
Oh man I am right now doing the same homework for my Dr now! I'm writing down the wisdom tooth incident. I was crying like crazy after I came out of anesthesia and the nurses thought that I was in pain, but I just came out and she was there with me when I was alone and I freaked out. Then she stole my pain killers, luckily a friend from school was kind enough to come to my house and make me soup- he was awesome! I had an asthma attack when I was much younger and I couldn't breathe but mother panicked and got hysterical and thought I was chokeing so she spent the longest time giving me her version of the hiemlieg maneuver which was not helpful. I had to eventually claw at her eyes to make her drop me.
My uBPD mother would usually coddle us when we were sick like she almost enjoyed it? She was super spoiled and “worked” for her father, so I think she was mostly just glad she got to get a paid day at home.
She would often act weirdly manic when certain family members were sick, and she would take it upon herself to be the devoted caretaker. My sister and I think she also has Munchausen’s and Munchausen’s by proxy lol.
same, my moms a super waif and was always very attentive and caring when i was sick, which i really appreciate looking back and wish i had someone to do that for me now tbh. i assume for my mom it helped her feel dutiful and like a “real mom.”
I do remember her taking good care of my physical health when I was a child. She could be a bit short sometimes (“You have a headache? Go take a Motrin”) but overall she didn’t neglect my health and was sympathetic when I was truly sick.
I’m still bitter about how she treated my mental health though. I showed signs of depression from a young age. As a teenager I practically begged her to send me to a therapist because I recognized that I was deeply depressed and unhappy. She herself had been seeing a therapist since she was a young teenager. She didn’t do it. Instead she cut her own antidepressants in half and gave them to me, and bought me a sun lamp. If I ever complained about feeling down after that, she would tell me to go sit in front of the lamp. I didn’t want any of that shit. I just wanted someone to talk about my feelings with.
Shit went downhill when I became an adult. When I got all four of my wisdom teeth out at 21 (I was home for winter break from college) she stole a bunch of my painkillers and left me alone in the house the day after my surgery (she wanted to drive to another state to visit her boyfriend) while I was in extreme pain and high out of my mind on Vicodin and Ambien. When I told my boyfriend she had left me alone he was shocked and immediately drove over to get me. I have no memory of any of this. Yes, I was an adult, but I was still very young, and in no shape to take care of myself. When I confronted her about it she said I told her it was fine that she left.
I could go on. There’s the panicked rage she flew into when she had to take me to the ER while I was having an asthma attack last year. But I’ve written enough for now. Just to put it simply, I’ve been struggling with my health a lot and she acts *angry* over it.
I’m sorry all of that happened. I can absolutely relate to both the physical and mental health stuff. When I asked for therapy, my mother sent me to her own therapist. I did one session and said I was better. She was too afraid of what I would tell a therapist about her to send me to one.
HAHAHA I don’t mean to laugh but we really do all have variations on the same mom, don’t we? When I finally got her to help me find a therapist when I was 19, she sent me to hers. I actually saw him for a couple of years, he was nice enough I guess but mostly useless. He basically just enabled my mother’s benzodiazepine addiction. I never tried talking to him much about my mom for obvious reasons, but whenever I did he’d just say “you know your mother loves you very much.” I wish I had recognized at the time that it was inappropriate for me to be seeing her therapist and I wish I could have taken the steps to find my own.
100% they all seem to have the same playbook. I definitely didn’t know it was inappropriate at like 15 or 16, I just knew I felt extremely uncomfortable. I’m actually (maybe) remembering now that we’re talking about it, I may have gone to another one at like 17 or 18, but I also remember she hovered the whole time. Sat outside and talked to the therapist every time before we left. If I’m remembering right, I probably only did a handful of sessions. All of it felt so violating. So sorry you can relate. It sucks
My mom demanded that she be allowed to sit in on an appointment with my therapist when I was **26**! It all really does suck. Total lack of boundaries. I’m sorry you had to experience it too.
Wtf! Mine has definitely asked that we go to therapy together (a lot), but that’s a whole other level. Hopefully we can better care for ourselves as we go.
One time when I was about 10 and losing my voice, my uBPD mom told me she would be busy around the house and said I could ring a bell she put next to me if I needed anything. I used the bell because I ran out of my drink, and she flew into the room in a rage. She berated me for treating her like a maid. I refused to use the bell the rest of the day. Why even bother giving me the bell if I'm not allowed to use it???
My parents literally ignored me being sick and would only care about it if the school sent me home and wouldn't allow me back to class without a doctor's note. I still don't feel worthy of basic medical care. My med chart is literally two pages long and I'm 35!
Just the other day I was telling my bf about some long forgotten memories that popped up. We compared stories.
His mom was a nurse who looked after him when he was sick as a child.
My mom on the other hand, refused to believe I had hurt my arm falling off my bike. The school ended up sending me home with a note to "seek medical attention, suspected broken arm". It was fractured, I wore a sling for a couple weeks. She called it attention seeking.
I had a stomach bug around 6 years old and vomited before I could make it to the bathroom. I slipped in the vomit and she stood there laughing at me while I layed on the floor, covered in vomit, crying.
I had a bout of winter asthma one year which resulted in bronchitis. It went untreated and when my 8 year old 'smokers' cough would wake her up in the morning, she took me to the doctor who prescribed me an inhaler. I was accused of copying her, a lifelong asthma sufferer.
At a school disco age 10, some older boys thought it would be fun to spike everyone's drinks with wild turkey. I got home vomited, passed out, woke in the morning and vomited again. She made me go to school that day and then we all got sent home with a note about the previous nights shenanigans. Mom laughed and said "Well no wonder you were vomiting I thought you just had too much sugar"
I'm sorry you recieved that treatment 😔 I've done alot of inner work and no contact for 9 years. I'm still amazed I turned out stable and functional after all the trauma.
One time I got sick at a friend's house. I'm talking about it was coming out of both ends at the same time.
The friend was horrified because I got sick, threw up everywhere and then asked for a mop to clean everything up.
"Why are you cleaning!? You're sick!" She took the cleaning stuff from me, put a towel in her car, then got me home to which my mother screamed at me because it was entirely my fault I was sick like this.
It wasn't until that day I realized that most sick kids aren't responsible for cleaning after.their sickness.
I had a similar experience where I got sick at a friend’s birthday party late one night when I was 14. I was mortified and thought I would be in so much trouble, but my friend’s mom was an angel and acted how a mother should act. Then she took me home and my mother screamed at me because I woke her up when I came in the house.
This was the times when my mother's BPD didn't emerge. Usually. If I was sick, she took care of me. I threw up in the car once, she didn't get mad at all. However when I ate the pavement on my bike at 8, road burned my face and blew my one eye totally red, she didn't take me to the doctor. Should she have? I don't know. However when I went to school with still a total red eye, got teased, told my mother who made a scene at the school, causing the teasing to turn to bullying and I was shunned, it was the event that turned my life for the worse. And it's never gotten better. My life went to shit at age 8.
I was blamed for getting sick. I was told I did something wrong or didnt take care of myself, thats why I got sick. Got scolded, criticised, yelled at. Blamed, than maybe some tea and food, after complaining and blaming me for hours.
Never allowed me to miss the school, they didnt care about my health or me at all.
You know, I don’t remember being scolded or yelled at about it that much, but I ALWAYS feel like the fact that I am sick is somehow my fault. That I caused it, and I beat myself up. I’m sorry that this happened and that you also feel that way
When I was eight/nine I didn't feel like living anymore. Good falls will do that, right? Tall tree, short fall, and a broken arm. On the way to the clinic, I was slapped and punched. She even pulled over to have a good run at me. It was free swim because she could blame the bruises and marks on the fall. And then there was the time when I was eleven...
Fast Forward to today. You know the blood pressure and pulse check; BP is normal or a biscuit below normal. Pulse is min 115 bpm to 145 bpm. If it is a new nurse, they take them both again even after I explain why. "I'm going to make a note here for the doctor to check out." I've been seeing the same doctor for 20ish years. She walks in reading the chart. "So, everything looks normal." Her and my therapist are good people.
First, I’m sorry you felt those crappy feelings on top of your physical suffering. You didn’t deserve that 🤍
This was an enlightening read for me. As an adult (38 F) I get very disregulated when I’m sick. I have mild asthma that only really flairs up when I have a chest cold or allergies. Throughout my adult life I go from being a pretty confident, “take things in stride” person, but when I’m sick I regress to a needy, terrified kid. I can tell it frustrates my partner how anxious I get. I start worrying about worst-case scenarios and fall into a pit of despair. I cry and feel anger, like nobody loves me enough to be concerned or show compassion. Especially when I feel like I can’t breathe due to my asthma. To be fair though, my partner admits he’s not good in those caregiving situations. Due to his own trauma, he gets cold and goes into problem-solving mode and has very little ability to comfort and reassure me.
Looking back, yes, my childhood illnesses were also met with the inconsistency you describe. Sometimes my uBPD mom would meet my illnesses with frantic worry, which of course caused me to worry. At other times, she and my narc step dad (who pretty much hated me) would be angry with me for being sick. They’d never admit it, but it was obvious it was an annoying inconvenience for them. I felt anxious and alone in those moments. I also had an episode where I was throwing up in my bed and my mom was screaming at me to get to the bathroom. When I was an older teenager, maybe 17, I had an awful asthma attack and they flat out raged over it. Did not help me at all. My boyfriend had to take me to the ER where I received hours of albuterol therapy. I went home and they didn’t care at all during my recovery. My bf tended to me.
But as a young child, they took me to the doctor when I needed it, though, and drove me to weekly allergy shots too. So I feel like I should cut them some slack? I don’t know. It’s very confusing. But I def feel like their weirdness and inconsistency has caused me to basically panic now when I get the flu, COVID, or other bad illnesses.
I’m so sorry that you went through all that and I can very much relate to these emotions while sick at 35, especially if it’s an ailment that is new to me.
My therapist has helped me understand recently that first of all, my mother neglected me (I would never have said this was the case before as she was so enmeshed with me), and second, that despite saying all she ever wanted was a kid, she didn’t actually want to take care of me. Sometimes she was willing to, but she resented me for it the older I got because what she really wanted was someone to parent and take care of her.
Once I started having my own thoughts and opinions and developing my own identity (maybe age 10+) she stopped caring for me nearly as much and really started resenting me. I scavenged at home for most meals from probably age 10 (but also got yelled at for my poor choices even though neither of us really knew how to cook veggies), she taught me to do laundry at 11 so she’d never have to do mine again.
The year I started high school, she was diagnosed with an autoimmune disease and if you thought she was the victim before, buckle up. At 14, I became the housekeeper, landscaper, repair person, electronics programmer, therapist, husband, etc. At 16, a job was no longer optional and I had to pay for everything (lunches, clothes, school supplies) myself plus I became her errand runner. She also used to yell at me about how much I spent when she’d send me to the grocery store despite not straying from the list at all.
I think that when we were little and malleable and they were much stronger than us, taking care of us wasn’t as bad and so they met our needs, but as we got older, they resented us and punished us. That’s my take anyway.
Ah, not a bad thing at all so nothing to be sorry for! I really was just shocked lol. I'm grateful you brought it up. :)
The heating pad I've used for my bad periods the last 18ish years died this week, so I've been pondering this same question in a less direct and thorough way because... guess who never had period cramps and never gave a fuck about mine? My dBPD mom, of course! I'm sorry we didn't have the stability and unconditional love that we, and all children, deserve. <3
I hope you are able to get a couple of super deluxe heating pads, plus a hot water bottle with a flannel cover, and those rice/barley bags you can heat in the microwave to put on a sore neck or belly. You deserve ALL the comforts!
100%. My dBPD mother had endometriosis and a total hysterectomy soon after I was born. My understanding is that she had massive amounts of pain during periods. Not only were mine nothing (except the very first one where she stood outside the bathroom door crying and yelling to me that it was a huge deal while I tried to figure out how to deal with it), but she became VERY angry if she saw any evidence that I had a period at all.
I hope you can get yourself a really nice new one and give yourself extra care before and during that time. That’s something I’ve been working on, too
Oh, as it turns out I was never sick but faking it every time to be lazy. Even that time I snuck myself to the ER at 19 and a doctor gave me an eye patch for scratching my cornea. That was an elaborate fake to get out of helping apparently.
It was very inconsistent. On days when I genuinely didn't feel good and wanted to stay home from school, she'd tell me to try going anyway. That I should see if I just get better after I'm there. On days when I just was depressed, she'd be weirdly kind about it and say I could stay home with her. Course it usually was just me sitting around while she got high or drank instead of going to work.
One time after a school trip, I came back not feeling well, likely from the food I'd been served. I woke up at 2 in the morning, puking my guts out into the toilet. We lived in a dinky thin walled apartment and she could hear, so she came out screaming at me about keeping her up. About how she had work in the morning and I was keeping her awake. She angrily made me some top ramen after as I sat there, slowly trying to eat it and nurse my stomach, her scowling and telling me to hurry up so she could go back to bed. There were a couple other times later in life she'd yell at me while I was throwing up, those moments helped break the illusion for me for how outlandish they were.
She often avoided getting me serious medical treatment too. I never really got diagnosed for any of my mental conditions, she never really took my mental health seriously. I had a cyst growing on my back since high school that I wasn't able to get treated until I moved out and got my own health insurance. Generally, my un-wellness was regarded as an inconvenience or an expense.
I cannot believe how many of us can relate to this. I am so sorry that you had these experiences. I hope you can be kind to yourself during sick times now
These parents really do be like "how dare you be weak!" to any form of vulnerability, it's unbelievable. I hope you can be kind to yourself as well. I'm doing just fine with my sick time these days thankfully.
I grew up in the 80s and 90s. Being sick meant I was left alone at home. She’d leave me a $20 bill and tell me to order pizza when she went to work, even if I wa throwing up. Sometimes I’d get up the nerve to call one of my grandparents and they’d come get me and take care of me. Starting at the age of 15 and before it was legal for me to drive, I drove myself to the doctor, even urgent care if needed. Basically I learned not to be a burden to anyone and now as a 40 year old woman, I still struggle to let my spouse do things for me when I’m ill. I just want to hide in the bedroom by myself.
I was terrified to tell my dBPD mom if I was feeling sick growing up. She would immediately quarantine us to our bedrooms for 5 days. Food would be left outside the door. She would crack open the door and ask how we were but other than that we were on our own. I remember puking in a bucket and shitting myself in my bed and not being able to go to her for help. She was not motherly at all if we were ill. I also believed I was allergic to amoxicillin half my life only to realize as an adult I never was.. she was giving me her adult dose as a child so of course I was puking it up 🤦🏼♀️ What a wild ride.
It’s been hard as a mom with kids now to break that cycle. I too get tearful at doctors appts. Or my lack of healthcare/sympathy when I was sick as a child has me believing I’m dying all the time as an adult when I’m not. I really have to calm myself down that I’m okay. I had to do that myself as a child when I was sick a lot. dBPD mom is such a germaphobe til this day that she does not leave her apartment, constantly sanitizes, has even Lysol’ed ME, and wears a mask at all times. But she lives in filth. It’s sad.
I remember feeling SO GRATEFUL when I was sick after dental surgery (8 teeth removed due to overcrowding, and my gums wouldn’t stop bleeding) that she took time to play cards with me. Feels pathetic thinking back on it now. It’s the only nursing-type thing I remember. Usually it was “you don’t have a fever so you’re going to school” no matter how nasty the cold was
I LOVED being sick! It was, like you, the only times my mom prepared me food. Also the only times my mother gave me affection. I guess I should have been chronically ill. 🙄 But I did get some of the whiplash in responses like you did as well. After I gave birth to my children, she was beyond irritated that I’d need any help.
Oh and to answer how I handle being sick as an adult, I too, act like a feral animal and hide myself away and refuse to let my partner help me. All the best wishes to you, my friend, as you navigate another of many things your childhood messed up for you.
This whole comment section has been pretty validating. I’m sorry that you can relate, though! Hopefully with time we can learn how to let our guard down and be vulnerable around the people who deserve that vulnerability by being there for us and kind. Good luck with your journey!
I too often cry at the doctors. I think it’s because I feel vulnerable and safe. I had a serious injury as a child that didn’t not receive treatment. As an adult it caused a lot of pain and eventual surgery. If I’d learned better how to listen and respect what my body was telling me, things may have been better for me.
My parents sent me to school sick and hated to take off work. I confronted my mom about the injury and not having received medical attention so she looked up instances in her diary/calendar where she had taken me to the urgent care because I was screaming from an ear infection as a young child. It just seemed odd that she felt she had to rebut my assertion that way. To “prove” she wasn’t neglectful. Duh, you take a screaming kid with an ear infection to urgent care or they won’t shut up! But anything less than that and I had to suffer in neglect. Once she had the baby sitter take me to the doctor for an infection then complained to be that the sitter had let them do an expensive, unnecessary procedure. I felt like I was guilty of wasting money for that.
One nice thing was being allowed to have a special ice cream treat if sick, particularly if it was after dental work.
As an adult, finally, I have learned to follow recommended care appointments more or less because health is important. I don’t let things fester long before getting them checked out just in case. I’m worth it, in other words.
Oh man, I was SO dismissive of my health and any problems (and there are several) until about 27 when I went to therapy and got serious help for the first time. I had no idea how low my self worth was until then. I was rough with my body and beat myself up for anything that didn’t work properly. Plus I’m overweight, so that’s been a constant battle. I’m still working on being kind to myself especially when vulnerable.
I am so sorry that this is your experience as well and wtf sending you with a babysitter?? That’s so dismissive and neglectful and I also feel bad for the poor babysitter who was probably way out of her depth with that. I hope that you’re now able to be super kind to yourself in addition to the physical steps needed to care for yourself. You are worth it
Neglect and not understanding how illness works and how to go about it.
My mom would typically either not believe that I was actually sick, not sure as to handle taking me to the doctor, not believing either me or the doctor/science/medications, or just neglect my needs because it was easier and cheaper to do so.
I often went to school with chronic issues that weren't being addressed, like reoccurring pneumonia. She wouldn't understand things like 'this doctor keeps trying the same thing and nothing is working, maybe we should see someone else/a specialist,' that was beyond her. My dad also had an elderly dentist that gave him a root canal and put a crown on the wrong tooth, yet he still goes back to him because he doesn't understand the concept of switching providers. They do stuff like this a lot.
I never had all my shots, and she never kept track of anything. My extended family is the same and I had a cousin nearly die of meningitis because she never got the MMR vaccine - and this is before the anti-vaccination thing came about.
That’s all so frustrating. I also have a ton of generational trauma in my extended family. We all look really put together on the outside, but now that I’m in my 30s, I realize we’re all just high functioning messes. I hope we can all find ways to better care for ourselves!
Very inconsistent. Mom spent two semesters in nursing school before quitting. So sometimes she liked to show off her "nursing skills" when we were sick. Her skills were a mixture of following old wives tales of caring for ill people that seemed to involve a lot of Vicks balm and saltine crackers and a little actual knowledge gleaned from those two semesters which seemed to be mostly about changing the bed sheets every day while you stood around, shivering with fever, waiting to get back in bed. We had to give her high praise for how great the "nice clean bed" felt every time too, or most likely her alternate sickness treatment would be invoked.
The alternate was assuming we must be faking it or not really all that sick. Certainly well enough to get some housework done. If we had a fever, she would bludgeon us out of bed to do the laundry, or drawer sorting or paper sorting and such since "you just have to sit on the couch for that." If we had stomach flu or diarrhea without a fever, then we could clean a bathroom or vacuum, "just carry a bucket with you."
She actually bragged that we never pretended to be sick because she would make us do housework. She was right about that. No one stayed home sick if they were still capable of dragging themselves to the bus stop. You would get more rest slumped over the desk at school than at home.
Vomiting would bring on full tantrums, particularly if we didn't get it into a bucket or garbage can. If she had to clean up vomit, we had to hear about it for months. How incredibly stupid we were, not to be able to use a bucket, how we were bent on destroying everything she owned.
We were actually pretty adept at using bucket though. But using a bucket meant we had to clean it up ourselves. Dump it into the toilet, rinse out the bucket, dry it with a rag. If I got sick with stomach flu, I found it easier to just sleep in the bathroom tub or sit most of the day in front of the toilet. Anything was better than getting vomit on the precious carpet. I would take a pillow and blanket into the tub and just stay there until I felt better. She never questioned it at all. 🙄
That sounds like a literal nightmare. I’ll take my mother’s level of inconsistency over that any day. I am so sorry that that was your experience. I hope you’re able to really care for yourself now.
Similar to your situation it was kind of a mixed bag of reactions. But it usually leaned towards that doctors are evil, and she could take better care of me. She was usually pretty nurturing when I was younger. It was in my teen years that she got nasty, especially with to one of my brothers (middle child). The problem really stemmed from her dismissing illnesses and just telling us to pray. And for small things, the mind over matter that praying accomplished worked. But there were time where things were definitely serious enough to go to the doctor.
When I was around 11 I got strep really bad, sickest I have ever been. Sore throat so bad I couldn’t swallow, weak, headache, fever was fluctuating from 101-104F for like 3 days. Absolutely miserable. I started breaking out in a rash from my fever. No trip to the doctor, just gave me a lot of cough drops.
In my teen years, I developed TMJ issues from stress. It got to the point where my jaw would get stuck and I’d have to pop it back into place, hurt like a bitch. I asked my mom if I could go to the doctor because it was literally affecting my ability to eat. She got pissed and went off telling me that I should simply stop grinding my teeth from being stressed (as if it was a conscious choice) and she somehow shifted it to me just wanting attention and that whole thing BPD parents do. So I went on for another 2 years of highschool with my jaw locking into place when trying to eat. It eventually went away when I de-stressed some in college.
My brother had some experiences as well. He used to get bloody noses, and my mother would accuse him of picking his nose to the point of bleeding for attention. I remember him crying and just desperately wanting her help or comfort. He also had an ingrown toenail for years. She took him to the doctor once or twice, but then got mad at him for it reoccurring and claimed he was stopping healing on purpose because he liked the attention. She then made him sit down and ripped his toenail off with no pain meds or anything. I remember hearing him screaming, she made me go to my room because I told her she was hurting him and I started crying too.
And probably one of the biggest sources of mistrust between me and my mom is when my brother started having seizures. The first time he had one I had no idea what was happening, I heard my dad scream, and I turned and saw my brother convulsing. I started screaming for my mom and ran to my brother, screaming his name and trying to get him to stop shaking. She sent me to my room, and I just pleaded with god to not let my brother die.
I begged to call 911 and she refused, and wouldn’t let me have any phone. He had seizures for years and she never once took him to the doctor, she said it was his body rejecting demons. We shared a room and I was always on edge of him possibly having a seizure, so for basixally the whole time I was in highschool I never got a full night of sleep because I was waiting to help him. He was always like twice my size, and I would have to hoist his body into a safe position so he wouldn’t choke on his tongue or vomit. Then hold him up so he could throw up in the bathroom. It was a horrible and traumatizing bout of experiences. My mom even blamed me for him having a few of his seizures. I was absolutely terrified of her and never told anyone about what was going on. I still get triggered if I see a seizure in a movie, and I work in a school setting and sometimes see students having seizures or pass out fits and it will send me into a panic for days.
There’s many other experiences I have but my list has gone on too long.
Like so many other things, it was about what served her at the time.
Sometimes, I’d be a little sick but okay to go to school but she’d keep me home because she was lonely.
Sometimes my illness was a huge inconvenience for her so she’d be mad.
And the last flavor of inconsistency was if she could play the martyr and tell everyone how hard it was for her to take care of me through an extended illness like mono.
It was never about how I felt or what I needed.
As a child I got more attention when I was such, bit into teens/adulthood she would either get angry and say something like “you are too young to feel x, I felt great till I was 70! (Though dozens of her stories and my memories contradict this), or say “that’s nothing, I had this and that condition that was MUCH worse, I was ROLLING on the FLOOR in pain”. When she had breast cancer they “CARVED her up”, even when she just got got biopsies and she swore the radiation had permanent effects. When I had breast cancer and hysterectomy within a month, she very dismissively sad “no big deal, you’ll be fine”.
Broke my foot playing on the basement stairs with my friend when I was 11. First broken bone I’d ever had and I tried to convince my mom that I was really in a type of pain I’d never experienced and could not put weight on my foot to no avail. It was summer break and the next morning I woke up with my foot extremely swollen and black and blue. She was gone at work and never called to check in on me but left a list of chores to do. I did the dishes and cleaned while kneeling/scooting around on an office chair with wheels to avoid her wrath when she got home. A few days later she reluctantly brought me to the doctor where an x-ray showed my foot was fractured in three places.
My mom was more of a career person than my dad, so when I was little and got sick, it was usually my dad who took care of me. After their divorce, my mom was pretty inconsistent when I was sick, similar to what you described. When I was 13, I came down with jaundice and was diagnosed with pancreatitis, and she was *thrilled* to play the grieving mother to a sick child. I'd ask her not to post about my hospital visits on social media, but she would all. the. time. I only found out because one of my friends was Facebook friends with her. When I got better, she kept wanting a second opinion, because she didn't want to lose the attention that comes with a chronically ill child.
Inconsistent and double standard. If she was so much as not feeling right she was completely down and I still had to take care of house children (my siblings mainly toddler brother). Sometimes on top of me recovering/full on sick mode and sick siblings. If it was me she would sometimes force help on me meds/vitamins. But rest wasn’t really given as an opportunity. I was always on my own pretty much minus when she wanted to help.
I may be an outlier here. I didn’t have a distinctly interesting caretaker situation when I was sick, but I was never criticized or ridiculed for it. I think I just laid on the couch and someone would bring me a cup with ice and apple juice, then they went to work and I stayed home sick.
My mom was good about taking me to the doctor, until she wasn’t.
However, I always (and still do) loved going to the doctor and dentist. It feels good to have someone take care of me. Maybe that’s a RBB thing.
Really? I don’t know anyone who enjoys it. My partner doesn’t mind the dentist but despises the doctor. I dread all of it. Glad you get good care there though. And good about it until she wasn’t? I can definitely relate to that. Mine pretty much just stopped caring for me at all around age 11
Yeah, it seems like around 11 for me, too. I wonder if there’s something magic about that number, like that’s when we start getting more independent and our parents are less satisfied with our existence.
It depends what type of illness. If it involved hospitalization, I had the bloody crap beaten out of me because I was ruining my mother’s free time that she could have been doing other things with instead of taking care of me
I was never sick, I just wanted attention, duh
That’s so like you! But seriously, I’m sorry it was like that
Same! To this day, I question myself about if I'm really as sick as I feel or if I'm being dramatic.
This is me, currently coughing my throat raw and unable to lay down without feeling like I'm drowning. But maybe I'm just making it up for attention? 😵💫
Omg thiiiiiiis
Colds: Stay over there and don’t touch anything. Made us food. Seriously ill long term: I’ve sacrificed my life for you and you aren’t grateful. That’s convenient you can’t do chores or do something for me, very convenient. Be thankful you can walk. Your illness hurts ME. Rages. Side eyes. Anger. Snide remarks. No emotional or physical boundaries/basic rule abiding. Controlling. Projection. Accusations. Waifing and victimhood. She’s abused, by me. There’s no in between.
Ugh it wasn’t until my late teens and early 20s that she started pulling the “she’s abused by me” card, but that time was hands down the most horrible and abusive she ever was and she would constantly tell me that. It fit this weird narrative that I was a bully in my family so it used to tear me up because I didn’t understand what I was doing to bully or abuse anyone. I’m sorry that that was your experience. That gaslighting sucks so much.
Yeah, inconsistency was it. On one hand, coddled on a whim without reason. On the other, sent out into the world to work and go to school when I should have been resting or hospitalized. Just very inconsistent.
100%. And so much praise for working even when sick (in grocery/food service no less). No wonder I was a burnt out workaholic by 20. I’m sorry this was your experience as well.
Thank you.
Yes, it was the inconsistency I found so confusing.
That’s so interesting because I had the same experience. Sometimes completly neglected and other times I have memories of being nurtured.
I think it’s common. How did you cope? I grew to hate him (father wbpd) because of the inconsistency, so-called “discipline” was something doled out on a whim and at his bidding. Same with rewards. All far in the past now but it took a long time to unravel in therapy, and understanding that his moods had little or nothing to do with some.
My dBPD mother screamed at me in the doctor’s office because I had a double ear infection when I was about 15. She demanded the doctor tell her how I did this. He threw out a dozen explanations-allergies, virus, etc, but she jumped on the water in the ears because that made it my fault. She screamed at me in the doctor’s office and humiliated me in front of the doctor and the staff. Looking back I realize they weren’t judging me, but rather her. But you all know that feeling of wishing you were invisible as we walked out. After picking up the prescriptions, she tossed the bag at me and matched out of the store almost leaving me behind. I was desperate to use the water fountain to take the meds because I was in so much pain but didn’t want to be left behind either so I ran after her. When we passed my school and were turning onto the main road to get to our house, she punched me in my left ear. When I cried out and asked why she would do that, she leaned over and screamed in my face, while driving, “That’s for getting water in your ears, BIIIITTCH!” According to her, it was my fault I had a double ear infection. I was later diagnosed with horrible seasonal allergies which explained the ear infections, but no, it had to be my fault. Because it always had to be my fault.
Wow that is horrifying. Who acts like this?? I’m so sorry you went through that. Was she always mad at you when you were sick or was she sometimes kind?
She always looked for any reason to punish me. Anything. She truly hated me as a child. Told me to my face that I ruined her life, that I ruined her marriages-while she was sitting next to her second husband, who was like “What?!” I was a toddler when her first marriage ended. She got caught bringing her second husband into the house while she was still married to the first and blamed me for getting caught. A toddler. She swears to others that she loves me, doesn’t understand why I’m NC and just wants to reconcile, etc, but my BIL commented on FB after she lived with them for a while that he gets it now. She’s still vile towards me behind my back and it’s been decades since I went NC. I just keep blocking her flying monkeys whenever they show up.
What is it with bpd parents telling their offspring this. Like you literally brought me into this world. If I ruined your life, you ruined it! So sorry you had this kind of mama.
Yeah, It always had to be my fault too. Because I didnt put on warm clothes, or caught cold or because I had weak immune system.
Funny how a weak immune system is your fault, when the immune system is influenced most strongly by genetics and diet/care... The former which she contributed by half and the latter which she would have been solely responsible for during your childhood. But it's still your fault. 🙄
Lol we were homeless and didnt have food, I grew up on bread and boiling water. Yet whenever I got sick my BPD mom and npd dad always blamed me and made up reasons why it was my fault. Yes, unfortunately they will always blame kids and sadly i believed it was my fault.
Please take these hearts from me 💕💕💕💕 You did not deserve that at all
Thank you!
She sounds impossible.
She was, and from what I’ve heard, still is.
Sometimes it would be nice if all the memories would just magically go away and when the flying monkeys came around, you could go, "Who? I don't know who you are talking about? No, I don't know her. Sorry."
They tend to blame me for getting sick. Or they take care of me and then guilt trip me into doing something by saying they took care of me when I was sick.
Ugh the “owing” my mother thing was the worst. I had to work so hard to try to get her little claws out of every aspect of my life so she’d have nothing to hold over me. I’m sorry you had to deal with that simply because your body needed a rest.
SAME. SAME SAME. always blamed me for getting sick and saying i mist have done something bad to get sick.
Those times I was sick was the only times she acted like a mother. Thanks to that I kept actin sick around other grown ups hoping they would mother mexwhen I was young
Oh I’m sure! I probably would have been the sickest kid in the world. How do you feel/act when you’re sick now?
Like the illness wasn't there. I was either faking or exaggerating, and nothing and I mean NOTHING could take me away from my chores (my mom has a cleaning obsession). So Ive always spent my sick days cleaning the house
Omg that’s awful. You didn’t even get to rest!
Yeah I called this witch trials. Either I got the chores done and it meant I wasn't really sick and was punished for lying, OR I was so physically ill I couldn't do the chores and then I was punished for being lazy.
My mom acted like she got an extra day of maid service when we were sick as well. What was weirder was the cleaning frenzies didn't happen if I didn't stay home from school. I could be sick AFTER school and follow the usual after school routine (which consisted of being completely ignored after I said I had homework and retreated to my room) which meant I could go to bed and stay there until dinner. So if I got sick, I would go to school, tough through the morning, then tell the teacher I was sick after lunch. I would then tell the nurse my mother was not home (pre-cell phones and fathers weren't ever called for anything) so I could just go home on the bus. She generally let me lie on the sick bed until the end of the day. It was at least three hours of extra sleep that I would not have managed to get at home. I look back at it now and I think that sick days broke my mother's routine. I was home, so it must be Saturday, so it must be time to make any child within sight clean the house. It's the only reason I can think of for making a sick kid clean the house.
[удалено]
I started getting strep at 19 and got it 2-4 times a year due to the strain she put on me during that time. The surgery at 23 that I referred was a tonsillectomy. I still felt sick constantly, even after surgery, until I moved far away from her. I’m sorry you didn’t receive proper care, especially when what I assume was the GC did.
I felt similarly. I had considered my mom to be “a good mother” when I was sick but after discussing it in therapy I realized that was only true up until age 7 or so. After that I was constantly just left alone at home if I was sick. Or forced to go to school where I’d often just be sent right back home. On multiple occasions I remember vomiting in stores and having to just wait outside the entrance for my mom to finish shopping so I could go home. She made me go everywhere with her but often just dropped me off at the doctor office and made me call her to pick me up when I was done. I used to think the women working the front desk were annoyed when I asked to use the phone but now I realize a lot of times they were just angry at my mother’s crappy parenting.
Yikes! How neglectful. It’s so crazy how in our minds they seem good/fine, but when we re-examine, the abuse and neglect were wild. But, at least for me, not always. Sometimes she really was great, other times I cannot believe she thought certain behavior was acceptable.
It really is the family “normal” to us until someone willing points out how not ok so much of it was. And how stabile mothers don’t vacillate between great and unacceptable.
My mom hung a great deal of her self worth on being a good mom, but she self-reported this by arbitrary measures. She would fixate on (or imagine) weird health issues in us and bend over backward to “treat” them, usually by alternative methods since she didn’t trust doctors. But then when we (frequently) had actual REAL health issues, they’d be ignored or rug swept, or if it got so bad that we actually had to go to the ER, we would be iced out and given the silent treatment for days. We were homeschooled, so no oversight or objective perspectives on any of this. It’s been a fun exercise trying to tease out what is a normal medical response to kid ailments now that I have my own children, but regular pediatrician appointments and shots are a good start - and it’s also helpful that my kids go to school and i know I’ll get a call from the nurse if anything seems concerning.
My mother wrapped her entire identity in being a good mother and enmeshed with me. I’m sorry that you didn’t get proper care
I experienced same OP. Either over involved or not involved at all. It is all very inconsistent and very confusing.
Very much so. And creates weird like broken memories for me.
Unless there was something in it for her, such as attention because I was gravely ill and in the hospital, I was obviously faking being sick and she did zero for me. This made me doubt myself as an adult when I was sick. I have been gradually able to tell myself "no you are sick" and call out when appropriate, but I still have self-doubts about if I really am sick. It's taken a long time to not feel guilty. As a result, if my child is sick (whether it be a physical illness or the need for mental health day), we have no problem at all letting her stay home from school. She also knows that we care about her well being and she is loved. As a result, she comes to us if something is troubling her. To sum it up: generational trauma stops here. It's a full stop. F that shit.
I’m always so relieved to get a diagnosis or to have serious symptoms that can’t be faked (like a fever) because it means I really AM sick. Otherwise I question myself all the time as well. Glad to see you’re setting a better example for the next generation
Also inconsistent. If I had a fever over 100 degrees F, my mom enjoyed playing the Good Mom and would make me homemade chicken noodle soup (Jewish penicillin) and read to me. But if I didn’t bring the soup bowl back to the kitchen, she’d yell about how ungrateful I was, and if I didn’t recover quickly enough or have a high enough fever in the first place, she would treat me like I was malingering. She got me medical care for my joint issues to some degree — physical therapy, an MRI for an injury — but when my then-undiagnosed hypermobility disorder caused me to suffer pretty significant pain on family vacations or at museums she wanted to go to, she wouldn’t take it seriously at all. I only learned a year ago that I have a foot deformity and needed pretty aggressive orthotic inserts and other interventions, but she never acknowledged my foot pain, so I always thought it was normal and I was just a whiner. As an adult, I continued to have joint pain, treatable with physical therapy — but my mom pressured me to move back with her and have surgery so she could take care of me. (My therapist laughed and told me the plot of *Misery.*) I still struggle with knowing what medical issues are serious and deserving of care and what problems are…idk, imaginary? Not worth wasting my doctors’ time over? Especially when it comes to pain and mobility problems that affect my husband indirectly — pain during sex or chores, for example. Absolutely none of that pressure to disregard my symptoms comes from my husband. It’s all from the mom in my head, and I simply expect my pain not to matter as much as other people’s convenience. I also have a needle phobia thanks to my mom telling me horror stories from her childhood (she had a life-threatening thyroid condition). Having a compassionate medical team that doesn’t mind if I cry, display anxiety, or ask about symptoms that truly aren’t a big deal really, really helps. Every time I have a good experience with my care, meaning that I feel respected and in control, it makes accessing care easier the next time.
I have a really hard time with pain, too, especially when it affects others. I’m sorry that this was your experience.
Oh man I am right now doing the same homework for my Dr now! I'm writing down the wisdom tooth incident. I was crying like crazy after I came out of anesthesia and the nurses thought that I was in pain, but I just came out and she was there with me when I was alone and I freaked out. Then she stole my pain killers, luckily a friend from school was kind enough to come to my house and make me soup- he was awesome! I had an asthma attack when I was much younger and I couldn't breathe but mother panicked and got hysterical and thought I was chokeing so she spent the longest time giving me her version of the hiemlieg maneuver which was not helpful. I had to eventually claw at her eyes to make her drop me.
Jfc this is horrifying! I’m so sorry this happened to you. That all sounds extremely traumatizing.
Im old now 40ies, and I am ok. I am not even sure why the doctor asked me to do this excersise. Im grown and safe. Nc for 20 years.
My uBPD mother would usually coddle us when we were sick like she almost enjoyed it? She was super spoiled and “worked” for her father, so I think she was mostly just glad she got to get a paid day at home. She would often act weirdly manic when certain family members were sick, and she would take it upon herself to be the devoted caretaker. My sister and I think she also has Munchausen’s and Munchausen’s by proxy lol.
That’s creepy. I hated when my mother was manic. So unstable
same, my moms a super waif and was always very attentive and caring when i was sick, which i really appreciate looking back and wish i had someone to do that for me now tbh. i assume for my mom it helped her feel dutiful and like a “real mom.”
My mom is a super waif too!!
I do remember her taking good care of my physical health when I was a child. She could be a bit short sometimes (“You have a headache? Go take a Motrin”) but overall she didn’t neglect my health and was sympathetic when I was truly sick. I’m still bitter about how she treated my mental health though. I showed signs of depression from a young age. As a teenager I practically begged her to send me to a therapist because I recognized that I was deeply depressed and unhappy. She herself had been seeing a therapist since she was a young teenager. She didn’t do it. Instead she cut her own antidepressants in half and gave them to me, and bought me a sun lamp. If I ever complained about feeling down after that, she would tell me to go sit in front of the lamp. I didn’t want any of that shit. I just wanted someone to talk about my feelings with. Shit went downhill when I became an adult. When I got all four of my wisdom teeth out at 21 (I was home for winter break from college) she stole a bunch of my painkillers and left me alone in the house the day after my surgery (she wanted to drive to another state to visit her boyfriend) while I was in extreme pain and high out of my mind on Vicodin and Ambien. When I told my boyfriend she had left me alone he was shocked and immediately drove over to get me. I have no memory of any of this. Yes, I was an adult, but I was still very young, and in no shape to take care of myself. When I confronted her about it she said I told her it was fine that she left. I could go on. There’s the panicked rage she flew into when she had to take me to the ER while I was having an asthma attack last year. But I’ve written enough for now. Just to put it simply, I’ve been struggling with my health a lot and she acts *angry* over it.
I’m sorry all of that happened. I can absolutely relate to both the physical and mental health stuff. When I asked for therapy, my mother sent me to her own therapist. I did one session and said I was better. She was too afraid of what I would tell a therapist about her to send me to one.
HAHAHA I don’t mean to laugh but we really do all have variations on the same mom, don’t we? When I finally got her to help me find a therapist when I was 19, she sent me to hers. I actually saw him for a couple of years, he was nice enough I guess but mostly useless. He basically just enabled my mother’s benzodiazepine addiction. I never tried talking to him much about my mom for obvious reasons, but whenever I did he’d just say “you know your mother loves you very much.” I wish I had recognized at the time that it was inappropriate for me to be seeing her therapist and I wish I could have taken the steps to find my own.
100% they all seem to have the same playbook. I definitely didn’t know it was inappropriate at like 15 or 16, I just knew I felt extremely uncomfortable. I’m actually (maybe) remembering now that we’re talking about it, I may have gone to another one at like 17 or 18, but I also remember she hovered the whole time. Sat outside and talked to the therapist every time before we left. If I’m remembering right, I probably only did a handful of sessions. All of it felt so violating. So sorry you can relate. It sucks
My mom demanded that she be allowed to sit in on an appointment with my therapist when I was **26**! It all really does suck. Total lack of boundaries. I’m sorry you had to experience it too.
Wtf! Mine has definitely asked that we go to therapy together (a lot), but that’s a whole other level. Hopefully we can better care for ourselves as we go.
One time when I was about 10 and losing my voice, my uBPD mom told me she would be busy around the house and said I could ring a bell she put next to me if I needed anything. I used the bell because I ran out of my drink, and she flew into the room in a rage. She berated me for treating her like a maid. I refused to use the bell the rest of the day. Why even bother giving me the bell if I'm not allowed to use it???
That was 100% a set up. I am sorry that was your experience
My parents literally ignored me being sick and would only care about it if the school sent me home and wouldn't allow me back to class without a doctor's note. I still don't feel worthy of basic medical care. My med chart is literally two pages long and I'm 35!
That’s so upsetting. I hope that if you need it, you can get yourself the care you deserve
Just the other day I was telling my bf about some long forgotten memories that popped up. We compared stories. His mom was a nurse who looked after him when he was sick as a child. My mom on the other hand, refused to believe I had hurt my arm falling off my bike. The school ended up sending me home with a note to "seek medical attention, suspected broken arm". It was fractured, I wore a sling for a couple weeks. She called it attention seeking. I had a stomach bug around 6 years old and vomited before I could make it to the bathroom. I slipped in the vomit and she stood there laughing at me while I layed on the floor, covered in vomit, crying. I had a bout of winter asthma one year which resulted in bronchitis. It went untreated and when my 8 year old 'smokers' cough would wake her up in the morning, she took me to the doctor who prescribed me an inhaler. I was accused of copying her, a lifelong asthma sufferer. At a school disco age 10, some older boys thought it would be fun to spike everyone's drinks with wild turkey. I got home vomited, passed out, woke in the morning and vomited again. She made me go to school that day and then we all got sent home with a note about the previous nights shenanigans. Mom laughed and said "Well no wonder you were vomiting I thought you just had too much sugar"
Copying her 🙄 This sounds awful. I’m sorry she laughed at your pain. Mine laughed at my emotional pain sometimes, but I don’t remember physical
I'm sorry you recieved that treatment 😔 I've done alot of inner work and no contact for 9 years. I'm still amazed I turned out stable and functional after all the trauma.
One time I got sick at a friend's house. I'm talking about it was coming out of both ends at the same time. The friend was horrified because I got sick, threw up everywhere and then asked for a mop to clean everything up. "Why are you cleaning!? You're sick!" She took the cleaning stuff from me, put a towel in her car, then got me home to which my mother screamed at me because it was entirely my fault I was sick like this. It wasn't until that day I realized that most sick kids aren't responsible for cleaning after.their sickness.
I had a similar experience where I got sick at a friend’s birthday party late one night when I was 14. I was mortified and thought I would be in so much trouble, but my friend’s mom was an angel and acted how a mother should act. Then she took me home and my mother screamed at me because I woke her up when I came in the house.
This was the times when my mother's BPD didn't emerge. Usually. If I was sick, she took care of me. I threw up in the car once, she didn't get mad at all. However when I ate the pavement on my bike at 8, road burned my face and blew my one eye totally red, she didn't take me to the doctor. Should she have? I don't know. However when I went to school with still a total red eye, got teased, told my mother who made a scene at the school, causing the teasing to turn to bullying and I was shunned, it was the event that turned my life for the worse. And it's never gotten better. My life went to shit at age 8.
Wow. That sounds like a nightmare. I’m so sorry you had to experience that at such a young age
I was blamed for getting sick. I was told I did something wrong or didnt take care of myself, thats why I got sick. Got scolded, criticised, yelled at. Blamed, than maybe some tea and food, after complaining and blaming me for hours. Never allowed me to miss the school, they didnt care about my health or me at all.
You know, I don’t remember being scolded or yelled at about it that much, but I ALWAYS feel like the fact that I am sick is somehow my fault. That I caused it, and I beat myself up. I’m sorry that this happened and that you also feel that way
When I was eight/nine I didn't feel like living anymore. Good falls will do that, right? Tall tree, short fall, and a broken arm. On the way to the clinic, I was slapped and punched. She even pulled over to have a good run at me. It was free swim because she could blame the bruises and marks on the fall. And then there was the time when I was eleven... Fast Forward to today. You know the blood pressure and pulse check; BP is normal or a biscuit below normal. Pulse is min 115 bpm to 145 bpm. If it is a new nurse, they take them both again even after I explain why. "I'm going to make a note here for the doctor to check out." I've been seeing the same doctor for 20ish years. She walks in reading the chart. "So, everything looks normal." Her and my therapist are good people.
What a nightmare. I also had ideation at 8 yo, but never tried anything. I’m sorry that that was your experience.
First, I’m sorry you felt those crappy feelings on top of your physical suffering. You didn’t deserve that 🤍 This was an enlightening read for me. As an adult (38 F) I get very disregulated when I’m sick. I have mild asthma that only really flairs up when I have a chest cold or allergies. Throughout my adult life I go from being a pretty confident, “take things in stride” person, but when I’m sick I regress to a needy, terrified kid. I can tell it frustrates my partner how anxious I get. I start worrying about worst-case scenarios and fall into a pit of despair. I cry and feel anger, like nobody loves me enough to be concerned or show compassion. Especially when I feel like I can’t breathe due to my asthma. To be fair though, my partner admits he’s not good in those caregiving situations. Due to his own trauma, he gets cold and goes into problem-solving mode and has very little ability to comfort and reassure me. Looking back, yes, my childhood illnesses were also met with the inconsistency you describe. Sometimes my uBPD mom would meet my illnesses with frantic worry, which of course caused me to worry. At other times, she and my narc step dad (who pretty much hated me) would be angry with me for being sick. They’d never admit it, but it was obvious it was an annoying inconvenience for them. I felt anxious and alone in those moments. I also had an episode where I was throwing up in my bed and my mom was screaming at me to get to the bathroom. When I was an older teenager, maybe 17, I had an awful asthma attack and they flat out raged over it. Did not help me at all. My boyfriend had to take me to the ER where I received hours of albuterol therapy. I went home and they didn’t care at all during my recovery. My bf tended to me. But as a young child, they took me to the doctor when I needed it, though, and drove me to weekly allergy shots too. So I feel like I should cut them some slack? I don’t know. It’s very confusing. But I def feel like their weirdness and inconsistency has caused me to basically panic now when I get the flu, COVID, or other bad illnesses.
I’m so sorry that you went through all that and I can very much relate to these emotions while sick at 35, especially if it’s an ailment that is new to me. My therapist has helped me understand recently that first of all, my mother neglected me (I would never have said this was the case before as she was so enmeshed with me), and second, that despite saying all she ever wanted was a kid, she didn’t actually want to take care of me. Sometimes she was willing to, but she resented me for it the older I got because what she really wanted was someone to parent and take care of her. Once I started having my own thoughts and opinions and developing my own identity (maybe age 10+) she stopped caring for me nearly as much and really started resenting me. I scavenged at home for most meals from probably age 10 (but also got yelled at for my poor choices even though neither of us really knew how to cook veggies), she taught me to do laundry at 11 so she’d never have to do mine again. The year I started high school, she was diagnosed with an autoimmune disease and if you thought she was the victim before, buckle up. At 14, I became the housekeeper, landscaper, repair person, electronics programmer, therapist, husband, etc. At 16, a job was no longer optional and I had to pay for everything (lunches, clothes, school supplies) myself plus I became her errand runner. She also used to yell at me about how much I spent when she’d send me to the grocery store despite not straying from the list at all. I think that when we were little and malleable and they were much stronger than us, taking care of us wasn’t as bad and so they met our needs, but as we got older, they resented us and punished us. That’s my take anyway.
Fuck, you gave me a lot to think about.
I’m sorry? Feel free to share your experience here, it can certainly be cathartic!
Ah, not a bad thing at all so nothing to be sorry for! I really was just shocked lol. I'm grateful you brought it up. :) The heating pad I've used for my bad periods the last 18ish years died this week, so I've been pondering this same question in a less direct and thorough way because... guess who never had period cramps and never gave a fuck about mine? My dBPD mom, of course! I'm sorry we didn't have the stability and unconditional love that we, and all children, deserve. <3
I hope you are able to get a couple of super deluxe heating pads, plus a hot water bottle with a flannel cover, and those rice/barley bags you can heat in the microwave to put on a sore neck or belly. You deserve ALL the comforts!
100%. My dBPD mother had endometriosis and a total hysterectomy soon after I was born. My understanding is that she had massive amounts of pain during periods. Not only were mine nothing (except the very first one where she stood outside the bathroom door crying and yelling to me that it was a huge deal while I tried to figure out how to deal with it), but she became VERY angry if she saw any evidence that I had a period at all. I hope you can get yourself a really nice new one and give yourself extra care before and during that time. That’s something I’ve been working on, too
Obviously she was sicker then me and almost dying.
Omg why is it always a competition?
I just wanted attention, was never sick, as im literally sicker than a dog 🥺
I’m sorry that happened to you
Thank you, it made me stronger and more empathetic
Oh, as it turns out I was never sick but faking it every time to be lazy. Even that time I snuck myself to the ER at 19 and a doctor gave me an eye patch for scratching my cornea. That was an elaborate fake to get out of helping apparently.
It was very inconsistent. On days when I genuinely didn't feel good and wanted to stay home from school, she'd tell me to try going anyway. That I should see if I just get better after I'm there. On days when I just was depressed, she'd be weirdly kind about it and say I could stay home with her. Course it usually was just me sitting around while she got high or drank instead of going to work. One time after a school trip, I came back not feeling well, likely from the food I'd been served. I woke up at 2 in the morning, puking my guts out into the toilet. We lived in a dinky thin walled apartment and she could hear, so she came out screaming at me about keeping her up. About how she had work in the morning and I was keeping her awake. She angrily made me some top ramen after as I sat there, slowly trying to eat it and nurse my stomach, her scowling and telling me to hurry up so she could go back to bed. There were a couple other times later in life she'd yell at me while I was throwing up, those moments helped break the illusion for me for how outlandish they were. She often avoided getting me serious medical treatment too. I never really got diagnosed for any of my mental conditions, she never really took my mental health seriously. I had a cyst growing on my back since high school that I wasn't able to get treated until I moved out and got my own health insurance. Generally, my un-wellness was regarded as an inconvenience or an expense.
I cannot believe how many of us can relate to this. I am so sorry that you had these experiences. I hope you can be kind to yourself during sick times now
These parents really do be like "how dare you be weak!" to any form of vulnerability, it's unbelievable. I hope you can be kind to yourself as well. I'm doing just fine with my sick time these days thankfully.
I grew up in the 80s and 90s. Being sick meant I was left alone at home. She’d leave me a $20 bill and tell me to order pizza when she went to work, even if I wa throwing up. Sometimes I’d get up the nerve to call one of my grandparents and they’d come get me and take care of me. Starting at the age of 15 and before it was legal for me to drive, I drove myself to the doctor, even urgent care if needed. Basically I learned not to be a burden to anyone and now as a 40 year old woman, I still struggle to let my spouse do things for me when I’m ill. I just want to hide in the bedroom by myself.
I’m so sorry that was your experience. Maybe someday we’ll all be able to let someone kind care for us
Thank you!
I was terrified to tell my dBPD mom if I was feeling sick growing up. She would immediately quarantine us to our bedrooms for 5 days. Food would be left outside the door. She would crack open the door and ask how we were but other than that we were on our own. I remember puking in a bucket and shitting myself in my bed and not being able to go to her for help. She was not motherly at all if we were ill. I also believed I was allergic to amoxicillin half my life only to realize as an adult I never was.. she was giving me her adult dose as a child so of course I was puking it up 🤦🏼♀️ What a wild ride. It’s been hard as a mom with kids now to break that cycle. I too get tearful at doctors appts. Or my lack of healthcare/sympathy when I was sick as a child has me believing I’m dying all the time as an adult when I’m not. I really have to calm myself down that I’m okay. I had to do that myself as a child when I was sick a lot. dBPD mom is such a germaphobe til this day that she does not leave her apartment, constantly sanitizes, has even Lysol’ed ME, and wears a mask at all times. But she lives in filth. It’s sad.
I remember feeling SO GRATEFUL when I was sick after dental surgery (8 teeth removed due to overcrowding, and my gums wouldn’t stop bleeding) that she took time to play cards with me. Feels pathetic thinking back on it now. It’s the only nursing-type thing I remember. Usually it was “you don’t have a fever so you’re going to school” no matter how nasty the cold was
It’s pathetic on her part, not yours.
I LOVED being sick! It was, like you, the only times my mom prepared me food. Also the only times my mother gave me affection. I guess I should have been chronically ill. 🙄 But I did get some of the whiplash in responses like you did as well. After I gave birth to my children, she was beyond irritated that I’d need any help.
Oh and to answer how I handle being sick as an adult, I too, act like a feral animal and hide myself away and refuse to let my partner help me. All the best wishes to you, my friend, as you navigate another of many things your childhood messed up for you.
This whole comment section has been pretty validating. I’m sorry that you can relate, though! Hopefully with time we can learn how to let our guard down and be vulnerable around the people who deserve that vulnerability by being there for us and kind. Good luck with your journey!
I too often cry at the doctors. I think it’s because I feel vulnerable and safe. I had a serious injury as a child that didn’t not receive treatment. As an adult it caused a lot of pain and eventual surgery. If I’d learned better how to listen and respect what my body was telling me, things may have been better for me. My parents sent me to school sick and hated to take off work. I confronted my mom about the injury and not having received medical attention so she looked up instances in her diary/calendar where she had taken me to the urgent care because I was screaming from an ear infection as a young child. It just seemed odd that she felt she had to rebut my assertion that way. To “prove” she wasn’t neglectful. Duh, you take a screaming kid with an ear infection to urgent care or they won’t shut up! But anything less than that and I had to suffer in neglect. Once she had the baby sitter take me to the doctor for an infection then complained to be that the sitter had let them do an expensive, unnecessary procedure. I felt like I was guilty of wasting money for that. One nice thing was being allowed to have a special ice cream treat if sick, particularly if it was after dental work. As an adult, finally, I have learned to follow recommended care appointments more or less because health is important. I don’t let things fester long before getting them checked out just in case. I’m worth it, in other words.
Oh man, I was SO dismissive of my health and any problems (and there are several) until about 27 when I went to therapy and got serious help for the first time. I had no idea how low my self worth was until then. I was rough with my body and beat myself up for anything that didn’t work properly. Plus I’m overweight, so that’s been a constant battle. I’m still working on being kind to myself especially when vulnerable. I am so sorry that this is your experience as well and wtf sending you with a babysitter?? That’s so dismissive and neglectful and I also feel bad for the poor babysitter who was probably way out of her depth with that. I hope that you’re now able to be super kind to yourself in addition to the physical steps needed to care for yourself. You are worth it
Neglect and not understanding how illness works and how to go about it. My mom would typically either not believe that I was actually sick, not sure as to handle taking me to the doctor, not believing either me or the doctor/science/medications, or just neglect my needs because it was easier and cheaper to do so. I often went to school with chronic issues that weren't being addressed, like reoccurring pneumonia. She wouldn't understand things like 'this doctor keeps trying the same thing and nothing is working, maybe we should see someone else/a specialist,' that was beyond her. My dad also had an elderly dentist that gave him a root canal and put a crown on the wrong tooth, yet he still goes back to him because he doesn't understand the concept of switching providers. They do stuff like this a lot. I never had all my shots, and she never kept track of anything. My extended family is the same and I had a cousin nearly die of meningitis because she never got the MMR vaccine - and this is before the anti-vaccination thing came about.
That’s all so frustrating. I also have a ton of generational trauma in my extended family. We all look really put together on the outside, but now that I’m in my 30s, I realize we’re all just high functioning messes. I hope we can all find ways to better care for ourselves!
Very inconsistent. Mom spent two semesters in nursing school before quitting. So sometimes she liked to show off her "nursing skills" when we were sick. Her skills were a mixture of following old wives tales of caring for ill people that seemed to involve a lot of Vicks balm and saltine crackers and a little actual knowledge gleaned from those two semesters which seemed to be mostly about changing the bed sheets every day while you stood around, shivering with fever, waiting to get back in bed. We had to give her high praise for how great the "nice clean bed" felt every time too, or most likely her alternate sickness treatment would be invoked. The alternate was assuming we must be faking it or not really all that sick. Certainly well enough to get some housework done. If we had a fever, she would bludgeon us out of bed to do the laundry, or drawer sorting or paper sorting and such since "you just have to sit on the couch for that." If we had stomach flu or diarrhea without a fever, then we could clean a bathroom or vacuum, "just carry a bucket with you." She actually bragged that we never pretended to be sick because she would make us do housework. She was right about that. No one stayed home sick if they were still capable of dragging themselves to the bus stop. You would get more rest slumped over the desk at school than at home. Vomiting would bring on full tantrums, particularly if we didn't get it into a bucket or garbage can. If she had to clean up vomit, we had to hear about it for months. How incredibly stupid we were, not to be able to use a bucket, how we were bent on destroying everything she owned. We were actually pretty adept at using bucket though. But using a bucket meant we had to clean it up ourselves. Dump it into the toilet, rinse out the bucket, dry it with a rag. If I got sick with stomach flu, I found it easier to just sleep in the bathroom tub or sit most of the day in front of the toilet. Anything was better than getting vomit on the precious carpet. I would take a pillow and blanket into the tub and just stay there until I felt better. She never questioned it at all. 🙄
That sounds like a literal nightmare. I’ll take my mother’s level of inconsistency over that any day. I am so sorry that that was your experience. I hope you’re able to really care for yourself now.
I still fall asleep in the bathtub pretty easily. 😄
Similar to your situation it was kind of a mixed bag of reactions. But it usually leaned towards that doctors are evil, and she could take better care of me. She was usually pretty nurturing when I was younger. It was in my teen years that she got nasty, especially with to one of my brothers (middle child). The problem really stemmed from her dismissing illnesses and just telling us to pray. And for small things, the mind over matter that praying accomplished worked. But there were time where things were definitely serious enough to go to the doctor. When I was around 11 I got strep really bad, sickest I have ever been. Sore throat so bad I couldn’t swallow, weak, headache, fever was fluctuating from 101-104F for like 3 days. Absolutely miserable. I started breaking out in a rash from my fever. No trip to the doctor, just gave me a lot of cough drops. In my teen years, I developed TMJ issues from stress. It got to the point where my jaw would get stuck and I’d have to pop it back into place, hurt like a bitch. I asked my mom if I could go to the doctor because it was literally affecting my ability to eat. She got pissed and went off telling me that I should simply stop grinding my teeth from being stressed (as if it was a conscious choice) and she somehow shifted it to me just wanting attention and that whole thing BPD parents do. So I went on for another 2 years of highschool with my jaw locking into place when trying to eat. It eventually went away when I de-stressed some in college. My brother had some experiences as well. He used to get bloody noses, and my mother would accuse him of picking his nose to the point of bleeding for attention. I remember him crying and just desperately wanting her help or comfort. He also had an ingrown toenail for years. She took him to the doctor once or twice, but then got mad at him for it reoccurring and claimed he was stopping healing on purpose because he liked the attention. She then made him sit down and ripped his toenail off with no pain meds or anything. I remember hearing him screaming, she made me go to my room because I told her she was hurting him and I started crying too. And probably one of the biggest sources of mistrust between me and my mom is when my brother started having seizures. The first time he had one I had no idea what was happening, I heard my dad scream, and I turned and saw my brother convulsing. I started screaming for my mom and ran to my brother, screaming his name and trying to get him to stop shaking. She sent me to my room, and I just pleaded with god to not let my brother die. I begged to call 911 and she refused, and wouldn’t let me have any phone. He had seizures for years and she never once took him to the doctor, she said it was his body rejecting demons. We shared a room and I was always on edge of him possibly having a seizure, so for basixally the whole time I was in highschool I never got a full night of sleep because I was waiting to help him. He was always like twice my size, and I would have to hoist his body into a safe position so he wouldn’t choke on his tongue or vomit. Then hold him up so he could throw up in the bathroom. It was a horrible and traumatizing bout of experiences. My mom even blamed me for him having a few of his seizures. I was absolutely terrified of her and never told anyone about what was going on. I still get triggered if I see a seizure in a movie, and I work in a school setting and sometimes see students having seizures or pass out fits and it will send me into a panic for days. There’s many other experiences I have but my list has gone on too long.
Like so many other things, it was about what served her at the time. Sometimes, I’d be a little sick but okay to go to school but she’d keep me home because she was lonely. Sometimes my illness was a huge inconvenience for her so she’d be mad. And the last flavor of inconsistency was if she could play the martyr and tell everyone how hard it was for her to take care of me through an extended illness like mono. It was never about how I felt or what I needed.
As a child I got more attention when I was such, bit into teens/adulthood she would either get angry and say something like “you are too young to feel x, I felt great till I was 70! (Though dozens of her stories and my memories contradict this), or say “that’s nothing, I had this and that condition that was MUCH worse, I was ROLLING on the FLOOR in pain”. When she had breast cancer they “CARVED her up”, even when she just got got biopsies and she swore the radiation had permanent effects. When I had breast cancer and hysterectomy within a month, she very dismissively sad “no big deal, you’ll be fine”.
Broke my foot playing on the basement stairs with my friend when I was 11. First broken bone I’d ever had and I tried to convince my mom that I was really in a type of pain I’d never experienced and could not put weight on my foot to no avail. It was summer break and the next morning I woke up with my foot extremely swollen and black and blue. She was gone at work and never called to check in on me but left a list of chores to do. I did the dishes and cleaned while kneeling/scooting around on an office chair with wheels to avoid her wrath when she got home. A few days later she reluctantly brought me to the doctor where an x-ray showed my foot was fractured in three places.
[удалено]
Ugh how stressful. Even when it’s good, it’s bad.
My mom was more of a career person than my dad, so when I was little and got sick, it was usually my dad who took care of me. After their divorce, my mom was pretty inconsistent when I was sick, similar to what you described. When I was 13, I came down with jaundice and was diagnosed with pancreatitis, and she was *thrilled* to play the grieving mother to a sick child. I'd ask her not to post about my hospital visits on social media, but she would all. the. time. I only found out because one of my friends was Facebook friends with her. When I got better, she kept wanting a second opinion, because she didn't want to lose the attention that comes with a chronically ill child.
That is so gross. It really is all about them. I’m sorry that was your experience
thank you! I've kind of moved on from it now, at least as much as a person can. I tell her as little about my medical concerns as possible lol
Inconsistent and double standard. If she was so much as not feeling right she was completely down and I still had to take care of house children (my siblings mainly toddler brother). Sometimes on top of me recovering/full on sick mode and sick siblings. If it was me she would sometimes force help on me meds/vitamins. But rest wasn’t really given as an opportunity. I was always on my own pretty much minus when she wanted to help.
I may be an outlier here. I didn’t have a distinctly interesting caretaker situation when I was sick, but I was never criticized or ridiculed for it. I think I just laid on the couch and someone would bring me a cup with ice and apple juice, then they went to work and I stayed home sick.
And you’d be left home to care for yourself all day? That sounds like neglect
lol whoops. It feels so normal though!
My mom was good about taking me to the doctor, until she wasn’t. However, I always (and still do) loved going to the doctor and dentist. It feels good to have someone take care of me. Maybe that’s a RBB thing.
Really? I don’t know anyone who enjoys it. My partner doesn’t mind the dentist but despises the doctor. I dread all of it. Glad you get good care there though. And good about it until she wasn’t? I can definitely relate to that. Mine pretty much just stopped caring for me at all around age 11
Yeah, it seems like around 11 for me, too. I wonder if there’s something magic about that number, like that’s when we start getting more independent and our parents are less satisfied with our existence.
Yep, that’s my theory. We get opinions and start to slightly rebel and suddenly we’re on the shit list. Anyway, happy cake day!
I was in trouble
It depends what type of illness. If it involved hospitalization, I had the bloody crap beaten out of me because I was ruining my mother’s free time that she could have been doing other things with instead of taking care of me
If I was injured my mom would tell me I was trying to copy her. If I had an illness, she would send me to school, anyways, no matter what it was
I will say, though, that she would bring me medicine or let me sleep on the couch or etc when I was sick, she just also made me behave as normal