More B3ta therapy
My Mother was a protective parent and to her I was fragile child who suffered with asthma, food allergies and migraine. You see, I suffered with terrible asthma and migraine for a lot of my childhood and then one day it just got better, I came off the asthma meds and hardly had a migraine. The miraculous cure was very simple. My Mother, who forbade me leaving our house because I was so ill, gave up smoking. She would smoke two packets of Embassy Number one a day and the house was like breathing in a bonfire.

To this day I react badly to smoking and can't stand to be in a smoky room because of the migraine I will suffer.

I grew up in Germany, Dad was in the army and I was an army brat. Back in the very early 80's a little girl was taken away and no doubt brutally buggered by a German Paedophile and she was never seen again. My Mother forbade me to play outside with my school friends because of the danger of paedo's. I finally managed to escape from my mother's grasp age twenty three when I fucked off to uni.

The whole Uni thing was a nightmare at first. As the day of my leaving drew near, my Mother started to say things to discourage me from going. At first it was simple things such as "are you sure you want to go that far away?". Too fucking right I did, my Mother insisted on running my life, taking what money I had and using me as a personal servant.

Two days before I went to Uni, my Mother told me that if I loved her then I would not go to Uni. She told me that if I went, she would be forced to kill herself and it would be my fault that my sister and brother would be forced to live with out a Mother. I wish I could tell you I was fine and strong, but in truth I cried on my sister and did not know what to do.

My Dad finally stood up to my Mother for me, the first and only time he ever did so and he drove me to uni himself. My Mother became an agonised mental case who screamed and cried for the last two days of my being at home.

Being at Uni was a revelation, I suddenly grew up and became the adult I was supposed to be and discovered the dangerous sports that I still love to this day.

I became a rock climber, my favourite climbing being solo climbing where I would climb my chosen route on my own with out a safety rope. I also became a mountain biker and as soon as I could, I made a break for the hills and rode like a fucking loony, putting myself in Hospital on two occasions that I remember and possibly one that I don't!

My Mother wrote to me every day, because the phone at Uni was always in use by Students from abroad phoning friends and family. This was before mobiles became popular. My mothers letter were always depressing and would inform me of the terrible things I was doing to my brother and sister while I was away from them. My mother would tell me that unless I returned home that day, she was going to kill herself and it was all my fault.

In the end the stress got too much for me and given that I was already coping with a darker and more personal problem of my own, the shit from my Mother pushed me over the edge and I tried to cut my wrists. My sister stepped in and told my Mother to back the fuck off.

Years later I was sat chatting with my sister and talk turned to our mental mother. My sister asked me why I had always been our Mothers favourite? I was really shocked, but as my sister saw it in her young eyes, our mother spent the whole time crying and telling people how much she missed her oldest child while the other two existed on badly cooked food and and no parental support.

My Mother's mental illness still causes problems when she tries to drive a wedge between my sister and I. Luckily, Sis and me are very close, she is more like a best friend than a sister and she has had almost as much therapy as me to recover from what our Mother did to us. It may sound like very little in this short story, but when every day your mother tells you (very graphically!) that should you step outside the front door you will be raped, murdered and god alone knows what else, it really does fuck you up.

Thanks Mum for the three years of therapy that you gave to us both, good job I liked my psychiatrist really.

Ahhh, I feel better now. The rage is fading and I just wish I could put into words just how much damage an over protective parent can do. My biggest fear is that I will turn into my Mother, my partner is under instruction that should I ever display any of my Mothers traits, I am to be shot immediately!
( Rev. Jayneflakes Buy my book, I need the cash for drugs and hookers, Sun 13 Sep 2009, 20:50, 3 replies)

Don't worry!
If you proceed normally, you'll use her as a "How Not To" guide with your own life, which is kinda what I did...
(Beer Elf Thought this was like a campfire, anyhow, on, Mon 14 Sep 2009, 12:10, closed)

Thanks Sparkie,
good advice there. I think I am doing ok though. I talk to my step son like he is a human being as opposed to a shitbag, which my mother was known to talk to us like. I try not to curb his adventures and subtly try to advise him on things as opposed to ruling him with fear. I hope I am getting it right.
( Rev. Jayneflakes Buy my book, I need the cash for drugs and hookers, Mon 14 Sep 2009, 17:22, closed)

Can tell it took alot to write this...
My own experience of mental ilness is with my brother; not a very nice person all said and done dispite the diagnosis...

I applaud your bravery from sharing this, and I think the fact you did means your really aren't like your mother - well done and all the best.
( SpankyHanky, Thu 17 Sep 2009, 12:46, closed)