Just an update from down the rabbit hole!

Been a while since I last contributed!  Today is a snowy, blizzard-esh day in the north east section of the United States.  As for many, I am snowed in with my two cats, and I have used the day to work from home.

Since mid-January, a bit has happened, but nothing earth shattering.  My hoarding mother is still hoarding.  Her malignant narcissism is unchanged.  She has not gained any insight, has not developed empathy, and still works to flog me with guilt and to conflate small annoyances and concerns into huge crises.  She still continues to say amazingly cruel, racist, xenophobic and classist things.  One of the latest?  She stated how tired she was of seeing that everyone on TV was black.  It should be 50/50 if anything.  I took her task, and she retreated to angry and confused silence, and then changed the subject.  She still talks about moles, her nasty feet, and things that would make the most seasoned gastroenterologist puke.  She is intrusive to others, and is extremely judgemental.  She refuses to accept that although it is human to be curious, it is not okay to ask or to speculate on many issues that are, simply, none of her business.  

I do not expect any miracles.  She is not willing to change.  And she is not going to.  Her newest schtick is to express concern she has dementia starting, temporal arteritis, and an who host of alarming diagnoses.  I just will not engage.  She complains about the mess in her house.  She complains about the neighbors, states they are stealing from her, conspiring against her, are trying to kill her.  

Sadly or not, she is not in a place where someone can secure assistance for her against her will.  Animal control, the police, Adult Protective Services, or any other entity.  The codes office cannot help.  She is an island unto herself.

How am I doing with this?  I continue to work to heal the incredibly abusive childhood I survived, and I had a revelation that 'child abuse' does not end when you are a legal adult.  The strategies the abusive parent may or may not change, but the power and control and the underlying premise that the child is 'entitled to' the abusive parent and is an extension of their will, but not a person themselves (to the abuser) will not.  I continue to low contact plan, and I continue to attempt to understand the reverberations that her decisions to be willfully cruel, to not address her mental health issues and her hoarding have on me.  At almost 48 years old, I think I have a pretty good understanding, and I am working to insulate myself as best I can from her toxicity.  I now recognize the reverberations from what I survived, and I also realize that my issues to address are workaholism, my inability to (often) seek or receive help or kindness, and that I have SERIOUS trust issues.  I suspect that it is unlikely I will ever successfully partner again because 1) I don't really want to after over 21 years in committed relationships and 2)I am very clear of what are deal breakers for me.  At the first sign of a red flag I am GONE.  And at my dating cohort age, it is unlikely I am going to find someone that does not trip my alarm in an area or two at some point.  If they are not willing to swim a moat and jump a wall or two (through communication) then I do not feel they are worth my time.  I will do the same for someone I care about....  And I expect no less.

To paraphrase a meme, I will not make someone a priority if I am merely an option.  I have been an option my entire life.  No more of that.  I have been blessed to have friends that are like family, and my sweet furry girls (my cats).  Some of those friends are evolving in their relationship with me, and sometimes relationships are for a season, are for many years, or for a lifetime.  Some relationships have a shelf life, and I refuse to put up with someone who takes me for granted, and for who relationships are not reciprocal.  (Note I do not say transactional... another lesson from my hoarding mother...)  I have been searching for a therapist that is trauma informed and has an understanding of being the adult child of a hoarder, the adult child of a malignant narcissist.  I will find that person, it may take time... And I may have to go out of the area to a large city to find that person.  I am willing to do that.  

I am still on the path of determining a diagnosis physically, and I go to the nationally known teaching hospital for a follow up this Friday after several really nasty and invasive tests that have been run.  We may be closer, or we may not.  I think they are still leaning towards Crohn's, and there was another discussion of attempting of ruling out MS.  Whatever happens this Friday, I look forward to knowing more.  I know this may be a process and not an event, and this has already been a 16 month journey so far.  They now suspect it is more than one issue.  I am ready to know so I can deal with it.  I am still running, I am still training and pushing myself.  I continue to live life at full volume, albeit those levels differ depending on where I am energy and healthwise.  But I will not use the excuses to 'not' like my mother does.  I can.  I will.  There is not other acceptable option.  I still plan another 1/2 marathon soon, and I am planning on an obstacle race in July.  This fall I should be ready for a full 26.2.  We will have to then see if I can jump and do an ultra.

Work is threatening my trip to southern Italy in mid September, but I am going.  If not then, SOON after.  Political changes make my job very difficult and the future of my organization is uncertain.  I do the best I can with what I have, and we will not go down without a fight.  

Life is currently not being kind to several people I care about, whether it is health, relationship, financial, or the like.  I have been in my rabbit hole of work, and I need to NOT do that, and keep reaching out.  

I have many goals over the next several months.  Onward and upward.  My next blog will have some humor, hopefully more 'From the Mouth of a Hoarder'.  

Have a great week.  And if you are in the path of Stella, stay warm and safe.

Post Christmas 2016

Hard to believe the holiday season is almost over.  2016 draws to a close, and although I think this has been a really hard year for many I care about, it is just a period of time.  Time itself is neutral, it is the values we assign to it that make it 'good' or 'bad'.  

Thinking about friends who have lost parents, siblings, significant others, children, beloved pets and too many other important people to list.  Thinking of the health issues that folks are facing, or have faced this year.  Including me... The health gods do not seem to be smiling on me too much.  I am in the midst of a major flare of whatever this is, and I hope to have a plan for some answers next month when I go to the teaching hospital about an hour away to start the consult process.  It has been a hard year of self discovery, introspection, and sometimes, repeating painful lessons because I just did not get them the first time, or two, or three.  I am continuing to prioritize what is important, and in that, I am letting go of what does not serve me anymore.  I have had wonderful experiences this past year, and I am planning a holiday in September abroad.  I have much to be grateful for.  
- My career and my work...  Although challenging, I love what I do.  It will most likely continue to be even more challenging in 2017, but I will rise to that challenge.  Often out of great chaos comes great opportunity.
-My sweet kitties.  I lost my two sweethearts a little less than a year apart, and I miss them daily, but I was able to honor them with adopting two special needs and elderly cats.  And I could not love them more.  I love watching them trust me more and more, and I want them to know nothing but love and happiness from this point forward.
-My health and my resilience.  Yes, I have had 'bumps' in the road but I am able to do what I value, am able to run, and to be active despite those challenges.
-My friends who are like family.  And the composition of my friendships are changing.  I am no longer making time for folks who in turn, treat me like an option.  No judgement or hard feelings, it is just priorities and lives evolve.  And I am not putting myself second any longer.  If folks are not willing to meet me part way when I make them a priority, then I will not pursue them.  I am here when they need me, and when they want to make space for me.  Until then, life goes on.  I just smile when someone says 'I haven't heard from you lately'.  Ah... that goes two ways.  Today is a new day!
-My 'gut'.  It very seldom leads me wrong, and I need to stop silencing it.  

There are many other things, but as I look at this list, I realize that for folks like my hoarding mother, hardship and adversity is a reason to ruminate, to be bitter, to be intentionally cruel, and to try to create an impenetrable wall.  I choose to not do that.  I choose to be open to new people, to novel experiences, and to use unpleasant happenings in my life as a lesson.  I refuse to get stuck.  Life is too short, and as approach age 48, I know that another 40 years is not promised, and quite bluntly, is not all that bloody likely.  I choose to live my life focused on relationships and experiences, not on things.  I keep saying life is meant to be lived at full volume.  I intend to live LOUD.  

I wish that things were different for my hoarding and/or/narcissistic family members.  I got a mushy holiday card from narcissister.  I did not hear from my niece, and my mother's estranged sister called after over 8 months of no contact.  She seems to be out of active psychosis, thankfully, but I felt like she was feeling me out to see if I was amenable to giving her any money.  Maybe not, but she seldom calls unless she wants to dump on me, to ask for information, or to ask for financial assistance.  I kept the call short and I think she was a bit puzzled as to what just happened when she hung up.

My hope is for everyone reading this that 2017 is full of opportunities, challenges, and new experiences.  I hope that this will be the year my hoarding mother develops some insight, empathy and willingness to be part of her own solution.  I know it will not happen, and I am not setting my self up for bitter disappointment, but I can still hope.

I think 'hope' is the only thing that has allowed me to draw from my resilience and persistence.  No matter what, no matter how long, it will get better.  <Sigh>

With that being said, I know I cannot change things for my hoarding mother.  And the best gift I can give myself is geographic as well as emotional distance.  I cannot change her reality, but I can shape mine in reference to hers.  And I choose to continue to maintain low contact, firm boundaries, and hope that some day, she may make a different decision.  One that does not surround her, her home, and anything she touches with toxicity.  She turned 80 this week.  A milestone birthday, which she spent alone.  Choices and behaviors have consequences.  That is hers.  I will continue to ensure that my solitude is affirming and not isolating, and I will continue to my work to grow and to heal.  

I often say that hoarding is something no one wins, and that is true.  But, if there is a silver lining of sorts, I think I have found it in gratitude, in resilience, in persistence, and in self awareness.

And so we go.  Onward and upward.  I wish each of you the best of all possible outcomes for 2017.  I keep thinking of Gretchen Rubin's paraphrased quote in the Happiness Project... 'The days are long, but the years are short.'

Thank you for reading.

Life in the 'Adult Child of a Hoarding Parent' Lane... Not quite as catchy as 'Life in the Fast Lane'...

[Referencing the title of this blog...]  Nor as fun.

Sorry it has been so long since my last post.  I did what I do when life gets complicated.  I went to ground.  I am trying to work on that behavior, but I seem to continue to suck spectacularly at it.  With that being said, where we are...

I could blame a lot of the challenges I have been experiencing on work, and that would be only partially true.  Work has been busy with year end stuff, staff turnover/hiring, and expanding the legal center and starting a therapy program that we were just funded for.  Work is expanding and growing, and with that, it is expanding beyond our current capacity and that is PAINFUL.  For all staff, and especially for me.  But I revel in these challenges.  I am still not consulting, and although my discretionary income feels the pinch, I needed to focus on my health and the day job.  

I have things I have got to get done.  Getting my 2015 taxes done (yeah, I know) and basic things.  I have been trying to regain my momentum in preparing for a marathon in November, and that has not been exactly linear.  I may or may not run a 1/2 marathon this coming weekend, and if not, I will run one 2-3 weeks later.  I was doing great, and have had a bit of a GI flare.  My GI consult was rescheduled for October, and now all my records have been secured, and it appears they are thinking Crohn's is the most likely diagnosis.  There are worse things, and I just want answers, and a plan to remove the fluid that is still in my pelvis.  But, overall, I am doing well despite not sleeping.  

My hoarding mother is continuing to be her normal, cruel and malevolent self.  She is to the point where no matter what, she cannot get along with anyone, and cannot get contractor and yard work done.  She is also getting declined all over town as a new patient for primary care physicians.  Word is out in the small Appalachian town she resides in.  Her delusions of persecution and of social status continue.  She continues to have violence ideations, and her 'conversations' with me are little more than a pontification pedestal for whatever she is zealously evangelizing about, in her disturbed and intentionally cruel way.  Every foray into town, every interaction with a neighbor, every phone call devolves into a confrontation and a scorched earth reaction.  

I had the pleasure of going to central Florida in late August for a week to stay with friends.  She has yet to ask about my trip.  I did not talk to her for over a week, and it was absolutely everything I hoped it could be.  My trip was relaxing, and full of fun, boats, airboats, alligators, shopping and the beach in Sarasota, relaxing and running in the sunshine.  It was simply perfect.  My mother has no frame of reference for friendship, nor taking a vacation.  

I have been trying to see my friends more and trying to not completely go to ground, and my dating life has been, um, interesting.  I have been seeing someone since early June, but we have not had the exclusivity conversation yet, and neither of us are ready for that.  So... I am continuing to date.  I have had three dates in less than 24 hours one weekend, and I am going to pull my profile soon.  I have realized that I have such deep, deep trust/intimacy issues that I may need help to broach them.  I am watching someone who would like to have a more physical relationship pull back because I do not know how to let someone love me.  I have several thoughts on this, but I am just so guarded and armored that it will take a while, and in 2016 middle aged dating moves fast.  I have to accept my deficit, and accept the consequences.  I am taking it one day at a time... but I feel pretty sure I have blown this relationship before it has gotten started.  It is really sad, and I seem stuck and unwilling to fix it.  I did mention to my mother I was dating, and she is, of course, overly critical of that.  She was excited I was seeing a doctor briefly, but it became clear he was looking for a wife and a stepmother to his teenage sons.  Um... NO.  Maybe I should stick to cats.

My ex husband, who is a dear friend, is on downward spiral.  He has left his long term life partner, has been off work on medical leave for the past 2 months, and is seemingly on a trajectory similar to the one that happened when he and I ended our marriage in 2008.  Again, not my circus, not my monkeys, but it has reopened some wounds that I thought were healed well and scarred over.  Apparently not.

Speaking of cats, my remaining kitty is doing well since the passing of my baby girl nearly two months ago, but in letting myself grieve and heal, I may have done her a disservice.  She seems more anxious when I am gone, and my Florida trip was hard for her.  It was compounded by the fact she had ended up in the emergency vet the week before, and what looked to be serious (as in putting her to sleep serious) turned out to be easily remedied.  I thought I was going to lose a third kitty girl in barely over 12 months, and it was horrible.  So... I found a Sphinx kitty to rescue, and I meet her tomorrow.  Hopefully she is compatible.  My hoarding mother is totally against me getting a hairless cat.  She has decided they are similar to the Chinese Crested dog, and stated it will die young, will be prone to skin cancer and problems, and all kinds of factually inaccurate information.  She is also against me getting another cat period, apparently... Who knows for what reason.  And I do not care what she thinks.  Not her circus, not her monkeys.  I have a lot of love to give a kitty, and I have always wanted a Sphinx kitty.  And now I have the opportunity.  And for some reason she simply cannot stand it.

She claims she is going to an attorney to put my name on her house.  One, I do not want it, and two, I will believe it when I see it.  I do not want to be on the hook for a 1960's rancher that is a level 5 hoard.  I know I can reject that when the time comes, but OY.  She was also allegedly told she needs a knee replacement.  That will not happen. She will be 80 in December, and I do not see any of this going any easier or any better.  I have connected with a local narcissistic mother group for women, and it has been extremely helpful to connect face to face with others struggling with the same thing.  I also had another 'aha' moment with them when I shared something I considered relatively minor in a self-deprecating, sarcastic and humorous way... I was eating sushi and was looking down, and since there was silence I looked up to 3 faces of varying degrees of horror, anger and compassion.  I have dissociated from the sheer awfulness of my growing up with her that I have no frame of reference it seems.  This is the second time this has happened, and it is shocking to me and strangely validating.  

I did experience intentional and malevolent abuse at the hands of my mother.  

I survived. 

I did not escape unscarred, however.

I will continue to learn, to love, to grow, and to combat my own demons.  

I will live life at full volume.  

This is the direct opposite of my hoarding mother.  Growth is painful.  Self examination can hurt.  But it is worth it in the end, and failure to do so results in merely existing and not living.  My hoarding mother is a shining example of that.

Onward and upward.  Hoarding and narcissism... No one wins.  No one.

'Wow... seriously?' is most likely NOT an appropriate title for this, but...

First of all, it is ironic that I picked a Cafe' to get some blogging done, and I just realized that the table of young women near me (7 of them) are some sort of Meetup.com group that appears to be a group targeting folks with hoarding behaviors.  They are discussing their meddling families attempting clean ups.  It is fascinating, but triggering.  I am moving to another table...

Anyway, my hoarding mother's latest.  A neighbor's tree fell on her property, and according to her, he is an absentee slumlord who is inaccessible.  She got a tree trimming service to come trim the tree back so she can get out of her detached garage, then they returned the next day to haul away the tree.  This all heralded the normal amount of guano-loco that you can imagine.  She has been calling local attorney's offices, as she plans to sue them too.  Yay??

That same day, her garage door failed.  She had to call someone out to repair it.  The opener is over 25 years old, and may be older.  Now, she has decided that the reason the part failed is someone forced it up to place the items they stole from her small 'storage barn' (shed) from the yard.  She claims they put something in the lock after they forced it open, so she can no longer open it.  My question was... how does she know what was stolen if she cannot open the door?  That was ignored.  So now, whomever did this forced her garage door open, placed those stolen-from-her-objects in the hoarded garage behind her car, with other things that are not hers, along with 'writing'.  She did not read it because she is not getting close to it.  I asked her if she called the police, and go the usual bluster and excuses.  I ended the call.

Just.  Seriously?

My Hoarding Mother- the Godfather Wannabe

This has not been a spectacular week.  Ergo three posts in quick succession.

I get a text from my hoarding mother's neighbor, asking if I can call her.  I was in a meeting with my management staff, but I called as soon as I dropped them off at the office and went to park my car.

ARGH.  My mother called her, and was being cagey and obtuse.  She finally whisper-asked "Do you know anyone that would do something, well, ornery?"  The neighbor heard her, but made her ask a couple more times, and each time my mother asked a different way... calling it 'devious' and 'illegal' and mumbled something about she needed a 'bad' person to even things out, she was tired of the harassment she is receiving from a couple of neighbors.  I shared with the neighbor that my mother called yelling the other day that the hated neighbor "in the turn" came into her yard and stole her 40 year old tiger lily bush and it is now in his yard.  The neighbor replied that she has been past her yard, and there is nothing dug up or missing, and the things she is accusing this man of stealing are still hoarded in her yard.  Shocker...

The neighbor told her NO... All the people she knows are good, and recounted my hoarding mother's other attempts to 'hire someone' in 1995 and again in 2000.  I was aware of both since she had also contacted former friends of mine who she considered to be 'edgy' or 'bad'.  She was trying to find someone to harm my soon-to-be-first-ex-husband, and trying to find someone five years later to break into her estranged sister's home and dognap her beloved dog... I will not go into details what she intended to do with the dog, but it was soulless and horrible.  She was never able to execute either plan, and no one will speak up to law enforcement because they are afraid of her and what she personally might do.  

I urged the neighbor to talk to the chief of police in that town, but she is afraid that will result in a scorched earth reaction.  Ugh.  I feel so helpless to do anything helpful.  I waited a few days and called her, and she casually asked the name of a friend from high school and college that she considers 'questionable' and got very huffy and defensive when I asked her why... and did not provide her any information.  She will find him I am convinced, but we are connected on social media and I know he will contact me.  I suspect she will also contact others, who will reach out to me.

She is dangerous.  This is why I keep her very low contact, and have not gone no contact... but that day is coming.

The neighbor echoed my (second) ex-husband who is one of my best friends.  In the past month they have both stated they wish she would just quietly and quickly pass so I can be free.  I do not want that, but I understand the frustration and the caring for me that is behind such a terrible sentiment.

This is not going to end well.  My hope is my mother does not harm anyone else, and if she has to harm someone, that it is only herself.  I am reaching out to the police chief (who I went to high school with) to 'blue sky' this situation.  If I can do something to prevent harm to others, I have to.  

Wish me luck.  

I should NOT be surprised... but I am amazed...

So I called my hoarding mother as I traveled to an appointment after work.

It seldom is a 'good' conversation, and this one had me shaking my head as I got out of my car, and when I entered the place of my appointment a friend who was there asked if I was okay... she stated I had a 'WTF!' expression.

Now, I do not expect her to be a mother.  She was simply incapable of that when I was young.  I simply only exist as an extension of her, from what it seems.  

After a short period of silence she asked "Didn't you have a stomach tumor?"

Um...WHAT?  When?  No!  

"A couple of years ago when you had something taken out..."

Do you mean two years ago when I had an almost 11 pound Fallopian Tube tumor removed?  No.  It was not stomach...

"Well- whatever it was... Was your belly swollen or sore?"

No.  It was only sore if actively pushed on.  

"Did you gain weight?"  

No.  I was actually losing weight at a scary pace since the tumor was 'eating' so heavily.

"That is weird.  I find that hard to believe...  That is so strange you had that, but I did have an ovarian tumor and have had many cysts removed..."

Whatever.  She has not seen me since 2 months before the discovery of a thankfully benign tumor that nearly took my life two years ago.  I had to have a second surgery last summer, and recovery has been a long hard road, and I have physical reverberations I will deal with the rest of my life.  However, no complaints- if this is the price I pay for the tumor not being malignant, for it not rupturing, and for me not needing additional life altering and disfiguring treatments and surgeries, I take it gladly.  And now, her revisionist history tactic has been employed to minimize this.  She had the opportunity to see me last April, which would have been her first and only chance to see me since that happened, and she declined for insignificant reasons. I have to not get stuck in the "what kind of mother does this?" type of contemplation.  I know what kind.  A seriously mentally ill, narcissistic person.  

She then begins discussing her crusty feet, her dry lips, and creams, etc. she is now using.  YUCK.  She also starts complaining about the paving on her street, about her neighbors, and how they must be mad at her since they did not bring a plate over on Thanksgiving like they have for years, and are not speaking.  She further states that "it was okay" since she had "decided [she] was not taking anything from them anyway and would throw it away if they left it in the mailbox."  I did not say anything.  She refused to pay to help with the project, then wants to armchair quarterback now that it is done, and has verbally escalated on the neighbors on the phone and in person.  Being able to imagine the bat-sh*t level of scorched earth she most likely went on them... No WONDER they DO NOT WANT ANYTHING TO DO WITH HER.  I had to get off the phone.

I am simply exhausted.  Work has been really busy since my return from vacation, and in a span of a week I have given over 13 media interviews and spoke at a protest rally.  I am in grant season, dealing with multiple projects and crises, and also continuing to work a long term consulting project, and because I am a total glutton for punishment, I may be teaching a class at a local college for the spring semester since I do not have anything else to do!  <Heavy sarcasm>

I do not expect a pity party or a medal.  She seldom asks about my life in appropriate ways, like "how is work going?  Any new projects?" Or my personal life... Perhaps "what is is new and different?  Meet any new friends or experience anything new?"  I am dating a bit, no one that is exclusive, but just having a bit of fun (or I keep telling myself...hah!) and making new friends.  She never asks.  My new 14 year old rescue kitty, she seldom asks about her or my kitty that will soon be 12.  She asked little to nothing about my vacation, like activities, food, places, none of that.  She never asks if I have any races scheduled or about my fitness/running goals.  I see the relationships some of my friends have with parents, and I am so happy for them and their relationships.  It is bittersweet, because it is something I have never had, and never will.  She is not capable of it, and even if she was, she is unwilling.  I think that is what cuts the deepest... Yet despite having a serious W.T.F. reaction, I am just numb to it and I am not surprised deep down- although sometimes it annoys me temporarily.  

I guess I have done my grieving years ago, and this blog helps in putting things in perspective without (to use a gross analogy) figuratively ripping any scabs open... and I am so lucky that I have very little to complain or be unhappy about.  I have a successful career that challenges me and gives me a lot of satisfaction.  I have my health.  I am happy at my home.  I have my furry family, and friends that ARE family of choice.  I have much to be grateful for, to enjoy, and experience.  I am surrounded by a warm, affirming, functional and minimalist home that I am comfortable having anyone over at any time.

Sometimes the best strategy (to use a mixed analogy) is to live life at full volume. And that is what I do.  Each and every day... It just makes me sad for her that her life is what it is, but she is the only one that can change.  I still hope that she will, but she turns 79 years of age this month.  I suspect it is too late due to her refusal to try.

Hoarding... No one wins.  No one.  Thank you for reading.

A week away, and my... She has been busy...

So... I did it.  I went and had a lovely, relaxing vacation.  Seven days in the Caribbean with my best friend and his wife.  Seven days of being unplugged from everything, including my hoarding mother.  

I got back and decided to give her a quick call so she did not start stalking my workplace or her neighbor to determine if I had returned (via social media, as the neighbor made the fatal error of telling her I friended her).  I also remember her slipping and telling me that she called AAA and several travel agents when I took a cruise in 2004 in an attempt to get a way to contact me.  She failed.  Thankfully.

So...  This would be almost amusing if it were not so stinking sad.  During the week I was gone she:

• Declared war on the neighbors, especially the ones who had actually brought her food on the holidays and had been neighborly.  They paved part of the dirt road that she lives on, and she refused to pay for any of it, so they paved part of it and she is claiming that it has a drop off of over 8 inches near her driveway and she cannot get her car out.  She has called the county commissioners, the codes office, everyone at the courthouse.  She finally called the contractor who did the paving, and was miffed that the owner was out of town and unavailable until Monday, and despite it being only Saturday that he had not dropped everything and called her.  She also had phone and face to face altercations with the nice folks across the street, and went all 'scorched earth' on them.  She is now criticizing them in intentionally cruel ways, and was not happy when I called her on it and shut it down.
• She had been referred to an eye specialist who she had a negative experience with about 10 years ago.  The morning of her appointment the practice called, stated they were canceling her appointment due to her past interaction, and they were declining her as a patient.  When she went back to her primary care physician that referred her, she stated he was distant, late for the appointment, and would not make eye contact.  I apprised her to have the conversation with him, but she prefers to find another doctor.  Another wonderful stranger just fell off the pedestal.  She also started freaking out that the place she got her hearing aid is in the same building as the practice who declined her, and was going to worst case scenario there.  She then proceeded to tell me that in 2005 she had not acted inappropriately or in a batshit crazy way in the doctor's office, when I remember that bit off-the-charts ugliness. Revisionist history anyone?
• For some strange reason she happened to be discussing me and my car with a perfect stranger. Talking about how I had owned more cars in the past few years than she has owned in her life, and was going on about me trading my last car in on this car, and admitted that she asked this person how much the type of Volvo I have cost.  WHAT. THE. SERIOUS. HELL?  WHY?!?!?  I cannot fathom why she would be discussing me or the car I drive to anyone...  I suspect she was 'dragging her cross' and telling this new/wonderful stranger in training about her CEO (of a tiny nonprofit) daughter who just traded a Lexus (which was over nine years old) on a new Volvo (that was a retired loaner car and will soon be 4 years old) who is on a cruise (my first vacation in 9 years) but I cannot be bothered to come see her, etc.  I usually do not speculate, but in this case, she has done this enough that it is the rule and not the exception.  Some of her comments indicated this, and she presented them as 'oh how funny'.  GAH!  

She is simply determined to make life as difficult as possible by her behavior and her unwillingness to deal with her mental illness.  She is caught in the small, lonely and threatening world of her own making, and I am again reminded that you cannot want something more for someone than they want it for themselves, and you cannot help someone in spite of themselves.

I am lucky to be spending the holiday this week with friends.  I continue to be grateful for all that is good in my life, and also I am grateful for the lessons that I have learned from what is challenging.  I have friends that are my family, and two beloved kitties that are my furry family.  Life has its ups and downs, but it is very good, and peaceful.  And I work to keep it positive, and to keep it that way.  And it is WORK.  But it is worth the effort.  I either succeed or I learn. Either way I win.  I think that is a better stance than 'opportunity lost'.

Hoarding.  No one wins.  No one.  Have a great week everyone.

A call I have been dreading...

Oh ye gods.  I got a phone call I have been dreading.  Nothing imminent for my hoarding mother, but still a call no one wants to get.

My hoarding mother's neighbor called me today.  Asked if I have spoken to my mother recently, and proceeded to tell me that she has concerns regarding my mother's deteriorating mental health, outlook, and has concerns that she may be in early stage dementia.  My mother will be... 78?  79?  For the sake of conversation let's say 79 on Christmas Day.  

I have noticed the decline, the increase in revisionist history, and what seems to be increasing forgetfulness in our 3 or so phone calls a week.  

I also know that there is nothing that I can, or she will allow me to do, that will help this situation.  It is simply heartbreaking.

The neighbor stated, "I hate to say this, but it would be easier on you, on her, on EVERYONE if she just drops over dead rather than requiring placement in a facility for care."  

No pressure.  Ugh.  I cannot do anything, and I will not be sucked into this.  Unfortunately my mother made many decisions years ago that will adversely impact her now.  Decisions like:

• Driving everyone away who has ever cared about her or tried to help
• Isolating herself behind a level 5 hoard and time after time, choosing the stuff and her need for power and control over addressing her issues
• Using me for narcissistic supply if I would allow her to- she sees me only as an extension of herself, not as the individual with rights and feelings that I am

Sorry for such a downer after my happy blog...  Onward I go.  I choose to protect myself, and to ensure my quality of life is what I deserve.  I cannot want it more than she wants it for herself, and I cannot fix this for her.

Thanks for reading.

She is going to drive me as crazy as she is...

Sorry I have been away for a bit!  I have a good one for you.  Just as a bit of background for those new to the blog, my mother is very firmly on the hoarding scale, and demonstrates the characteristics and lack of boundaries inherent to Narcissistic Personality Disorder.  Due to this, I have been keeping her on a 'low contact' schedule to keep my sanity and my health intact.  I live 7 hours away, so I do not see her often at all.

Last Tuesday we had an event at work, an open house.  I decided to make one of my calls to her as I drove home that night.  When I called, she had a story to tell.  And with her, all stories must be told in the most climatic, drama filled manner possible.  

I will spare you the 1/2 hour build up.  She hit a deer in what passes for town in her area.  She was enroute to the mall area, and a deer came out of a housing development, went over the hood of the car, shattered her windshield, and went on its way.  Luckily she was unhurt, just riled up and angry.  Other drivers stopped, so she had lots of 'Wonderful Strangers' and narcissistic supply.

She apparently did not know what happened, just that her windshield exploded in on her.  She said she saw a 'flash of orange'.  She also had on her glasses, so thankfully none of that glass came back and hit her eyes.  She was on her way to have a medical test on the swelling on her feet and legs.  She went into where she was going, and the glass exploding inward, her stopping, the conversations with the folks who stopped, the cop's attitude that responded... before she finally told me it was a deer.  Yeesh.  The salient points (I am being facetious) of this conversation were:

1. That 'someone' was watching out for her... She could have been killed!!!! (True, and thankfully she was not, but that was allegedly said to her 14 times- I exaggerate only slightly).  
2. That a DEER was out during the DAY!  She doesn't drive at night!  What was it doing out during the DAY?  They don't move around during the DAY!  (Says who?  Maybe the deer heard about the sale at Walmart...)
3. She was furious that someone had asked for an EMT when the collision occurred.
4. She was furious at the police officer, he had the nerve to ask her if she was wearing a seatbelt!  (I explained this was a common procedure question, not an assumption).  Her response set the tone for the rest of the interaction, which she did not share, however she did say at one point he said to her, "Look lady, all I want to do is get this scene cleaned up and cleared..." before retreating to the sanctity of his cruiser.  (Another person I should send flowers to...)  She kept demanding to drive the car and he told her no, she would be ticketed.
5. The tow truck driver brought a flatbed (yay... as he should have) and recommended a collision center, ironically, one that used to be owned by my dad's friend years ago.  (Add these folks to the flower list too.)
6. He took her home, but had to help her in and out of the truck, and all the people were commenting on her feet and shocked she was driving herself and no one was with her.  (Direct guilt poke at her partially estranged, neglectful daughter).
7. She called the insurance company, and was insulted that they asked her if she was wearing her seatbelt, and if she was ticketed (again, SOP for those calls) and they initially approved a rental for 5 days, she has a max coverage of 30 days/$400. She did not call to get a car.
8. She called the bank, who told her the car is worth $5,200.  I called 'bullshit'.  I estimated it is a $1,600 car.  It is a 20 year old Honda Accord LX wagon.  It is NOT a classic as she insists, and she also crowed that they said she could get $8400 for it if she sold it privately.  My advice was if anyone was going to pay $5200 or $8400... Take it and RUN.  I just checked Kelley Blue Book, for its actual condition in her area, it is worth an average trade in of $1,720.  Um.  Yeah. 
9. She was already obsessing about them totaling the car, she wanted it back, and the craziness has already begun.  She also demanded to know if they would take her dash apart to replace the windshield (what??? really?) and asserted SHE DID NOT WANT THAT because NO ONE puts it back right.  <<<deep sigh>>>

Now, as I have mentioned before, I ran an autobody shop for Honda, Nissan and Mercedes back in the early 90's.  I also worked at the rental car company that she is dealing with, and have extensive insurance experience.  (This was my first career out of college.) Normally I do not offer advice, but unfortunately I attempted to offer some guidance.  I did not call on Wednesday, but did on Thursday, only to be regaled with all the Wonderful Stranger stories, and that she called 2 banks and they told her the car was worth $5,200!  I told her to take it and RUN.  She stated the body shop called at the end of the day and the estimate was ... drum roll... $1,600.  Now, even with a $1,700 car and it exceeding the 80% ACV, I was confident they would not total it.  She got very angry when I again refused to engage in speculation of worst case scenario.  She stated the adjusted needed a picture of the car, and she was told to wait on the rental.  I advised her that she did not have to wait, and worst case, secure it with a credit card and get a car, time was running out since tomorrow is the eve of a 3 day weekend, and calling on Friday will most likely result in the car place being rented out.  

Friday I called her as I was returning from a consulting job.  She was in rare form... She was angry that the adjuster had not called right back, and still had not arranged a rental.  I again had the discussion, and urged her to call.  She rather sourly advised me that the car would not be totaled, and went off on the dash board craziness again.  I would not engage.  The adjuster beeped in, and she said he got what he needed.  I advised her to call the rental, and that I thought it was unlikely at an hour before closing on a travel holiday that she would get a car, but to try/put in a reservation.  She claimed the insurance guy had told her the car was between $5200 and $8400.  Um... Whatever.  That made her mad that I would not argue.

She hung up, and I got a pissed off call... similar to the howlers of Hogwarts/Harry Potter fame.  They were rented out, there were only two people there right now, and they were only open 3 hours tomorrow.  I asked if she made a reservation.  She said she did not know what they did, and did not care.  I advised she call and make the reservation for Tuesday, and ask they call her if a car is available tomorrow.  She very sarcastically retorted that if she had a way there she would not need a car.  She also started to obsess how she would get her car when it was done.  Um... drop the car at the shop, and get yours, or drop it at the rental place, and they will take you over.  She has done this before.  She made sarcastic comment about getting there again and I outlined the following as her choices:

1. She could call her neighbor.  She immediately started yelling that 'she does not have time with work and with all the things she does with that GUY'. She further stated that another neighbor has as a hubby with dementia and she cannot and she is not asking!
2. I continued without reacting to her interjection that she could call a cab (she again began screaming that would be at least $20-$30!  She was not paying it!)
3. And my final suggestion was that she would just have to wait until Tuesday since she allowed this situation to evolve to what it is with her choices.  She icily asked how she could have got a car when she was told to wait.  I civilly called BS on that, and advised her she could have called Wednesday when she was first approved, and could have secured the car with her card.  

She was not happy, grumbled something and hung up.  I immediately texted the neighbor to give her a heads up that I would recommend NOT calling her.  Turns out that despite talking to my mother on Wednesday, mother did not say a word.  Apparently the deer/car situation is a SECRET!  GAH!

It is Monday, and I have not called all weekend, and if she has tried to call, unfortunately my smart phone is dead, and the insurance replacement will not be here until Wednesday at the earliest. 

Unfortunate, but not the end of the world.  I may check in on Tuesday...  Maybe.  Maybe I will not.  I am sure I am the most awful daughter ever since I did not fix this, or rush to her assistance.  Um... I had friends coming in from out of town, and lack of planning on her part does not constitute an emergency on mine.  

To be continued... I am sure.

Hoarding... no one wins.  NO ONE.  Have a great week everyone, and thank you for reading.

Ahhhh. Narcissism and hoarding. The gifts that keep on giving... Or is it taking?

She drives me insane.  

Absolutely flipping insane.  

Her amazing abilities at denial, rewriting history, and being an ethnocentric and racist old woman defy my ability to understand at times.  

I called her on Thursday of this week.  (She remains on the 3 times a week plan for phone calls for my emotional well being, and honestly, it is too much/too many times...)  I reminded her that I was not working on Friday, and that I might be going bowling with friends that night if I felt up to it and my eye appointment on Friday went okay.  She immediately asked about my eye appointment, wanting to know why would it NOT go well?

Ugh.  I know I should expect no different, but two years ago I was diagnosed with an eye condition that can, potentially, lead to reduced vision/blindness, painful surgeries that can go up to and include corneal transplants.  The type of disorder I have is similar to one that many folks have, but mine has a bit of a twist, it is found predominately in folks with specific ethnic heritage, in my case, Native American.  A fact that my mother has attempted to deny, to feign ignorance, and has reactions that run the gauntlet from surprise to out right racism... "Does your [then fiance'] know?  He will not think you are white!"  Um... that is because I am not. 

I told her the day I was diagnosed.  She immediately went into denial mode, and then started talking about her own vision woes.  Last year she again used it as a springboard to talk about herself.  This time, she again seemed to have zero memory and this was new information to her.  I again reminded her of my Native American heritage, how that came about, who in Dad's family, and why it did not appear on birth certificates.  Basically it was a cultural accommodation, and a response to racism and genocide.  In the state my father's family comes from, if the indigenous person's name was left off the birth certificate, they were 'white'.  Also, it was 1969 before a law preventing First Nation people from owning property was struck from the books.  She was more interested in minimizing and denying, and demanding to know how I found out, who knows, etc.  She also immediately launched into her eye problems, and focused the conversation on her.  I ended the call quickly, and anyone seeing me drive down the highway might think I have lost my mind.  I did a little primal scream therapy as I drove the 4 lane home.  If anyone noticed, and I am sure they did not, I was most likely quite the picture driving along in my little sedan, looking straight ahead, and screaming my fool head off.

I have not spoke to her since, it is only 3 days later.  I doubt that she will ask, and I do not intend to tell her anything about my appointment.  It did not go well.  The condition I was diagnosed with has not progressed much in the past two years, which is good, but I have another concern.  It appears that my eye pressure is elevated, and glaucoma does run in the family, with devastating results.  I have to return every few months for the next year to monitor this, and the treatment options are yet to be determined... but this can reduce or eliminate options for the first condition.  The good news is I am being monitored, and both are being caught early, if glaucoma is truly an issue here.

Most folks with relatively normal interaction and relationships with their families, their mothers, could seek support for this.  Due to the extreme narcissism and mental illness of my remaining family, support is something they are simply unable to give.  As with most other things, I will seek support from my friends, or I will walk alone with this.  Either way, I am better off than anything she has to offer.

And I am not keeping this secret.  I have already shared it with a friend or two when I went bowling that night... so thankful for the friend that came an picked me up so I could go since I was still effected by the dilation medication administered.  I had a lovely weekend of friends, food, wine and fun...  Whatever this yields, I will deal with it in its time and its place.  Worrying about it now only spoils the 'now' and does little to improve the 'then'.  I have little time or patience for hand wringing.  Life goes on. 

I am not usually one for smug little sayings and memes... okay, maybe I am... but I believe in the one that talks about being as happy as you choose to be.  Life is too short to be spent on the safe side of the street, and always looking to the worst case scenario.  

Thank you for reading... Have a great week.

Hoarding...  No one wins. NO ONE.

Update:  Spoke to her briefly on my way into work.  She did not ask about my eye appointment, or anything about my weekend, just began her normal hoardy monologue.  I am relieved, and the smallest part annoyed.  I spoke to a friend who I had not talked to in a few days that knew this was coming up, and called to check in.  A friend... and my friends are my family of choice, but someone who heard this mentioned in passing made note of it and followed up.  But my mother?  ::Fail buzzer::  And honestly- to be fair to her, if she did ask, I would most likely not tell her anything because I do not want the rapid fire 1,000,000 question interrogation and the resultant craziness and inappropriate assumptions.

<Sigh>  And so it goes.

Word...

-Hoarding... It is not about the stuff... That is merely a symptom of a life threatening mental illness.

For all of you that have decided 'no contact' is the safest option

http://www.mommyish.com/2014/05/07/estranged-adult-children-mothers-day/#ixzz317lwzjyw  

Mother's day approaches with all the commercialism, sentimental advertising, and the schmaltz that is absolutely endemic on this day.  For many who have a decent relationship with their parents/mother, this is a time to celebrate that relationship.  For those of us who are low contact or no contact due to the choices and toxicity of our family, it is another helping of guilt and sorrow, and another opportunity for folks unintentionally to rub salt in what may be a very thinly healed wound.

My advice on sharing your thoughts, helpful ideas, memories and solutions to someone that has distanced for safety and healing...

JUST DON'T.  See the link above.

Sharing a link on narcissism...

Sharing an article that resonated.  I read the comments below, and one person posting pointed out that folks with Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD) do not suffer from it, those who are around them do.  

Still contemplating that...

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/henriette-lazaridis-power/mother-daughter-the-narcissist_b_3287993.html

Meme time again, sent to me by readers!

It is that time... It is time for... FROM THE MOUTH OF A HOARDER!

Been a bit serious here in the blog for a bit.  It is time for another installment of FTMOAH!
______________________________
"Does your cats get a 'crust' in the corner of their eyes?... [Goes into graphic description of the eye hockey of one of the cats and her crazy method of removing it]..."

No.

"Not at all?  Well, 3 of mine do, and I cannot figure out why.  They are not sick, not running a temperature, but ...[description of eye gunk and the effervescent sneezing of one of the cats]... I cannot figure out why.  I think it is the furnace running.  That has to be it..."

My furnace runs, and my cats do not have that.  Do you think it might be the dust, mold spores, etc. from all the piles of stuff?

<Changes subject>
________________________________
"...[Fat shaming one of her cats]... then again, one of your cats is pretty fat too..."

Not anymore.  Has not been since her strokes in 2008 and her brush with death/septic blood infection in 2010.  She weighs 8 lbs now.

"EIGHT POUNDS?  How old is she?  17?  Oh, Lisabeth, she is going to DIE SOON!  Don't make the mistake I made with ... [veers into the bad end of one of her cats that she had live until almost 22 years old]..."

Gotta go.  Not having this conversation.
_________________________________
"...[Fat shaming a young woman she saw at Walmart earlier that day]... she had to be 3 feet wide and when she turned sideways, she was that thick at least... <clucking tongue> that is TERRIBLE..."

Change the subject, please.

"Why?  All I am saying is..."

Oh, I am very clear on what you are saying.  I have heard that particular refrain my entire life.  STOP fat shaming and commenting on people's weight, appearance, aging process, or disability to me please.  You do remember that I once was morbidly obese and weight continues to be an up and down struggle?  Not listening to this anymore.  Now can we talk about something else?  No?  Okay- bye then. <Click>   

ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
_________________________________
I had a recruiter contact me about a position that is available in Hawaii.  Just to give her something else to obsess on rather than the normal  5 or 6 subjects, I mentioned it.  And I was correct, she is stewing in her own juices about it.  

"What would you do with your cats if you move to Hawaii?"

They would go with me.

"How?  They would DIE.  They would never survive that trip in an airplane."

It is 19 hour flight with stops, and so I would drive ...

"...[Cutting me off] You cannot DRIVE to HAWAII!  You CANNOT DRIVE OVER WATER! ..."

Um... if you would let me finish.  Depending on if I got a relocation package, (if I did, I would ship my belongings and car from the East Coast) if not or a smaller one, I would rent a truck and tow the car, and the cats and I would drive it to a port in CA.  It would be rough, but I could do it in 3-4 days, then ship the truck contents and my car over...

"Yes, your car... You just had to have that car... what will you do with it?"

Ship it over as well.  But, I need to look at the job and the specs they sent, see if the income will be sufficient for the higher cost of living, and what relocation would be involved.  It is NOT a different country.  HI is part of the US.  The cats will be fine.

"No.  They will not.  They. Will. Die."

Gotta go!  <Click>   
______________________________
The cat stuff is another attempt to get under my skin.  She knows I am simply nuts about my cats, that they are my furry family.  She is constantly inferring that I am a poor pet parent since my one cat passed due to brain cancer at age 13, and my other kitty due to kidney issues at age 12 or 13 (turns out she was much older than the rescue reported, which does not matter to me either way).  My eldest kitty is almost 17, and the younger one is almost 10.  My eldest has had significant health issues her entire life.  Kidney issues, strokes, seizure disorder, slight spine injury at birth, and arthritis.  She is thin and is losing her hearing, but is on my lap playing with the tie on my blouse as I type this, purring her little heart out.  My other kitty is asleep on the bed behind me, and she has a serious heart murmur and osteo arthritis from the broken bones (abuse) she had as a kitten- but is my little comedian and acrobat.  They are pampered and loved.   If this does not get her anywhere, she will try to find another way to get under my skin.  Good luck with that.

The last call with her she kept asking about what different folks jobs or pensions pay.  Each time I simply told her I did not know, if she was that curious, ask the person.  Each time that elicited sputtering and demurrals.  I am keeping her on the 2-3 calls a week plan.  It keeps me sane, and the days where I do not talk to her are so much less stressful.    

Ahhh.  Hoarding.  No one wins.  No one.  Enjoy your week!

It is the little things that mean so much... And I still have much to learn

So this past couple of weeks have been BEYOND busy at work, and I have been burning the candle at both ends.  (I know, I seem to not learn... anyway...)

I was in a play this past week.  It ran for 2 nights, and this is my 8th year in it.  This was my first time doing a spotlight piece, so this was a new part to the play.  A friend who lives 5 hours away, decided to come, and to bring her husband as well.  They drove 5 hours each way for a 2 hour production, and had to drive back right after.  I was so thrilled they were there... It meant a lot to me.  Probably much more than they realize.  What was a spontaneous moment and an experience for them meant so much to me, and I had an 'a-ha' moment today as to WHY it meant so, so much.

I don't expect much from anyone.  My threshold is super, super low.  I learned that growing up in the hoard.  If you do not expect anything, you are seldom disappointed.  And I do not mean in the negative, Eeyore type of way (Winnie the Pooh reference!).  Growing up, very seldom did I have someone present at my events.  Especially after I went to live with my paternal grandmother after being rejected by my hoarding mother.  The list of things are long... They include:

• Winning the Best of Fair and 1st place at the annual high school, regional and state science fairs.  My parents did not come to see me get my trophies nor were present to pose for the pictures in the paper any year.  In fact, I was grounded from participating in the state science fair my sophomore year of high school.  My crime?  I advised my parents I was not seeing well, and was advised it was because I ate like crap.  After several weeks, I made an appointment at Lenscrafters (I had a job and a car) and went, and got contacts.  Many months passed, and neither parent noticed I had contacts.  I dropped one and was looking for it one weekend when I was forced to spend the night at 'home', and the 'secret' was out, and I was 'grounded'.  I was advised that an appointment had been made.  Whatever... it was nearly 6 MONTHS LATER.  No appointment was made.
• Being published in a local magazine for my writing and art in elementary school.  No acknowledgement at all.
• In high school one of my art teachers was very impressed with my acrylic and oil paintings, and wanted to have a show of my work.  No response from my parents.
• I won several scholarships for college, and because of my scores, I had my choice of anywhere.  (Failure was never an option I had... this was my only way out of the hoard as I saw it...)  My parents neglected to send in the paperwork needed for the full ride to school, and later, after dad passed, my hoarding mother demanded every cent that was paid out.  I wrote her a check for $27,000.  This was in the late eighties...
• When I graduated from an esteemed graduate program, no acknowledgement of this from any of my family, or really anyone.  No party, it never occurred to me to arrange one.  No announcements, again for the same reason.  No celebration of it, and I did not walk to accept my degree.  I graduated with honors.  To this day my hoarding mother's only response is to repeatedly ask if it was 'really worth it'.  
• Any professional honor I have had, I have not ever had any recognition of.
• In 2007 when I had a hysterectomy, my hoarding mother did not visit, and this past summer when I had emergency surgery and things looked very, very dire... she did not come.
• I also self isolated and did not allow folks to come help me, and just could not ask at some level...despite lessons learned previously... during my most recent hospitalization and for a few weeks post surgery.  I went through some pretty rough hours, days, and weeks... solo.  Because it seriously did not occur to me it should be any other way.  
• In 2008 when my second marriage crashed horribly with major collateral damage, no visits, etc.  My mother has never visited me in the 15 years I have lived in an adjoining state, not once.  She only came to my home 2 hours away in the same state the week I was leaving for here, and that was to pick up anything I was not taking with me.

I could go on ad nauseum, and honestly, in the scheme of things, none of these are large deals.  But my friend and her husband coming?  That was HUGE... to me.

Again, more for me to ponder.  I do not want to walk this earth holding folks at an arm's length.  I am always shocked when folks refer to me as 'reserved' or 'private'... or any other way or referring to the fact that I largely seem to keep my own counsel.  

I still have a lot to learn.  Trust.  Vulnerability.  Intimacy.  Maybe I will get it right... it is sad it has taken me almost 45 years to 'get it'.  Now that I see it, I have to take action to change it.  That is not as easy as it would seem.  But I am determined to keep evolving for the better.  

I have a perfect example in my hoarding mother as to what happens when you do not.

Goodnight all... thank you for reading!

Do NOT ask questions you do not want answers to, Mother Dearest...

So my mother's gross obsession with sensationalized 'reality tv' and 'vigilantism' continues.

She was watching some sort of show on folks who were bullied as children or teens and who got the last laugh as adults through intentional machinations or rubbing their success in the face of their former bullies.  Again, I am someone who does not own a TV, and has not watched a TV show in 3 or 4 years.  I advised her that I was simply not interested in that type of stuff, and she launches into the story of a young woman who was bullied because of her skin, found a mentor and the right makeup and skin care regimen, and became a model.  She later snubbed all who made her feel bad as a teen.  Mother was positively CROWING with laughter and vindictive glee, focusing on a statement this woman made that if she was not good enough to be good to when she was younger, now that she is beau coup successful that she does not have time for them now.

My mistake?  Attempting to impart another perspective.  I advised her that I had folks contact me to friend me on Facebook that were bullies to me, and that some apologized and were very sorry for the way they treated me.  I do believe that hurt people, hurt people... and I also believe that people evolve from the children or adolescents they once were.  My hoarding mother cannot discern that people are not single natured...  But that is another blog for another day...

She was immediately in 400,568,231 question-interrogation-mode.  Why...this was the first she ever heard that I was bullied in elementary school and junior high!  She smugly stated, "I think it was because you were an only child... don't you?"  NO, MOTHER.  It was not.  "Well why then?"  Because I was different.  "Different?  HOW?  Why, we..."  I cut her off and ended the call rather abruptly.  I am NOT listening to any more revisionist history.  I hope for her sake that she DROPS THIS.  If she pushes it, she will hear 'why'.

I was bullied in elementary school and in the first two years of junior high because I was different.  I was different because:

• I was vulnerable, and had a fragile vibe that predators lock in on.  
• Her ridiculously scorched-earth behavior to neighbors, to teachers, to other parents.  I was never trusted to find my own solutions or to use processes that were in place.
• The lack of otherization that many hoarding parents engage in.  During my entire 2nd grade year she dressed me like Shirley Temple.  It was 1977.  I would go to the bathroom and wet my hair and comb it straight, and try to do something with my clothes.  I failed miserably.
• I could not have kids over to my place, go to their houses, or have any sort of interaction after school when I lived at home.  No parties, no sleepovers, and no phone calls that were not monitored directly, and I was never allowed to give out my phone number... I had to do all the calling.  It was like being in a gulag.  The Grey Family Gulag.  And I was in solitary... A lot.
• I was awkward, geeky, and read voraciously.  In early elementary I was skipped ahead for many classes, and that was NOT ENDEARING.  
• She was super intrusive and had no concept of the reciprocal nature of friendship, so it took me a while to figure out that friendship is not transactional.
• I was forced to dress like I was in 1935 in the 70's, when kids are desperately trying to fit in.  I was not allowed to wear shorts ever, and certainly not to school.  She tried to ensure that I never used curling irons (brush rollers or foam rollers, and a bath once a week whether I needed it or not).  I smelled funny.  
• I was constantly switching classes or schools because of her behavior, and I went out of district most of the time.
• I walked on eggshells all the time due to the off the hook, sadistic, batshit crazy behavior I endured from her (and beatings).  I was never at ease, anywhere, with anyone.
• I was not encouraged to be athletic, physical, or to participate in team sports.  In fact, she did everything humanly possible to ensure that I was not in gym class.  When I was, she made me wear her old gym suits from junior high and high school in the late 40s early 50s.  That went over well... in 1980...

I could go on and on, but I think you have a snippet.  And at nearly 45 years old, these things do not haunt me.  They are part of what makes me the person I am today, and it is what it is.  I am thankful for her rejection at age 10 that led me to being at my father's mother's home most of the time, and allowed me to have a more normal experience, friends, and showers once or twice a day... or as long and as many times as I wanted.  And I could ride a bicycle on the street!  <Oh>

But, for me, where it is an issue is I refuse to allow her to whitewash/invalidate/revise history to suit her purposes and to relieve her of any responsibility she might have in these situations.  If she is wise, she will not pick too much at this.  It is like the fact that I have little memory before age 7 or 8 or so, and whole 'the crazy ends with me' thing and not wanting children.  Due to her continuing narcissism, we have mapped three areas that are 'no-fly zones' with me.  And if she continues her efforts to traverse these areas, she will not like the enamored and offensive tactical response she will receive.  

Thank you for reading.  I hope to have more humorous material for you soon.

Hoarding... no one wins.  No one.