Archive for the ‘Parents’ Category

h1

Celebrity Worship Syndrome

November 7, 2011

I searched this knowing that I would find some kind of mental illness attached to it. I didn’t know it would be so in depth though. The reason I’m writing this is for one reason. Merrill Osmond (who I will call MO in this article) of the Osmond Brothers is retiring. So what? You say.

Well when someone in your family has CWS and their celebrity obsessee is retiring, you will worry.

Let me give you a few wiki excerts about CWS:

“Psychologists in the U.S.A. and UK. created a celebrity worship scale to rate the problems. In 2002, United States psychologists Lynn McCutcheon, Rense Lange, and James Houran introduced the Celebrity Attitude Scale, a 34 item scale administered to 262 persons living in central Florida.[4] McCutcheon et al. suggested that celebrity worship comprised one dimension in which lower scores on the scale involved individualistic behavior such as watching, listening to, reading and learning about celebrities whilst the higher levels of worship are characterized by empathy, over-identification, and obsession with the celebrity.

However, later research among larger UK samples have suggested there are 3 different aspects to celebrity worship;[5] John Maltby (University of Leicester), and the aforementioned psychologists examined the Celebrity Attitude Scale among 1732 United Kingdom respondents (781 males, 942 females) who were aged between 14 and 62 years and found the following 3 dimensions to celebrity worship:

Entertainment-social

This dimension comprises attitudes that fans are attracted to a favorite celebrity because of their perceived ability to entertain and become a social focus such as “I love to talk with others who admire my favorite celebrity” and “I like watching and hearing about my favorite celebrity when I am with a large group of people”.

Intense-personal

Intense-personal aspect of celebrity worship reflects intensive and compulsive feelings about the celebrity, akin to the obsessional tendencies of fans often referred to in the literature; for example “I share with my favorite celebrity a special bond that cannot be described in words” and “When something bad happens to my favorite celebrity I feel like it happened to me’”.

Borderline-pathological

This dimension is typified by uncontrollable behaviors and fantasies regarding scenarios involving their celebrities, such as “I have frequent thoughts about my favorite celebrity, even when I don’t want to” and “my favorite celebrity would immediately come to my rescue if I needed any type of help”. ”

Now I would say that most of us experience the first one. We have a favorite celebrity and if something of theirs comes out to buy then we’ll buy it, this one doesn’t seem to be a large problem. The second one sounds like a lot of the fans who say “Justin Bieber is my life” and they are usually quite young. They generally grow out of it as they mature. Now the 3rd one shows some mental health problems, delusional thoughts about someone they don’t know personally.

My mother is the majority intense- personal but can be borderline-pathological.

“Evidence indicates that poor mental health is correlated with celebrity worship. Researchers have examined the relationship between celebrity worship and mental health in United Kingdom adult samples. Maltby et al. (2001) found evidence to suggest that the intense-personal celebrity worship dimension was related to higher levels of depression and anxiety. Similarly, Maltby et al., in 2004, found that the intense-personal celebrity worship dimension was not only related to higher levels of depression and anxiety, but also higher levels of stress, negative affect, and reports of illness.”

People who become obsessed with things generally have a problem. They have holes in their lives that they fill with things, routines and people. It’s normal to want to do it but sometimes it can go too far.

Celebrity Worship syndrome I would say is one of the main causes of my BPD. My mother’s obsession lead to me feeling lesser than MO and less loved than he was by her. She would pay and still does hundreds of pounds of items of his clothing or stupid items he had touched. They hang on her bedroom walls along with thousands (literally) of pictures and posters of him. She turned the marital bedroom into a shrine and my dad now has his own room. She has no money and numerous credit cards. She works to so she can see MO while my dad worked for me and mum. Everything she did and does is for him. She would leave frequently to other contries to where he was often leaving me with a very mentally unwell father. My feelings of abandonment come from my mother leaving me for MO more than once a year, without telling me beforehand so as not to upset me. Although not being told meant that she would leave unexpectedly and it made like seem very unpredictable. It often reminds of the Strange Situation I started off as the secure child, crying when she left, happy she was home but the more and more it happened the more I became Anxious-resistant insecure, I would cry when she left and when she came home, I would be resistant and not want to see her and accept her holiday present with reluctance. It was a difficult pattern and when your parent has CWS you start to hate the Celebrity more and more. She believes that MO can solves all of her problems, he can cure her sorrows and troubles. She won’t listen if you tell her that he will never fall in love with her and that he isn’t interested in making her life better because he has his own life. He may recognise her when she goes to see him but when she pours out her soul about all of her problems, he can’t do anything about it and he knows it’s not his place to. In ways he has crossed boundaries because he is such a nice person and does want to help but then she sees this as him loving her and wanting to save her from her misery. I remember when I met MO it felt very strange, he was so lovely that I wondered why I hated him in the first place, then I realised I shouldn’t have been directing my hatred towards him because it’s not his fault he’s alive. Then it started turning more towards my mother. She believes she is in love with him. But infatuation and obsession is not love. It’s not love at all.

Just thinking about it is reducing me to tears. She always loved him more and she still does. Dad has even said it too, she loves MO more than both of us. Now MO is retiring at the end of next year and I’m scared mum is going to die. She always told me if anything happened and she couldn’t see him again she would kill herself. If I died she wouldn’t kill herself because she would still have MO in her life. Surely it should be the other way around?

How am I supposed to deal with that? How as I child was I supposed to deal with that? Knowing you aren’t as good as some strange in your mothers life.

Edit: I remembered I had this picture that I took of a list I found written by my mother.

If you can’t read it, it says.

List of blessings that I am grateful for!

Merrill.

My hair.

A good pair of working eyes.

My beautiful cat.

Microwave.

Savannah (I scribbled out my real name on paint to protect anon)

I was last on her list and in a different pen to everything else, meaning I wasn’t originally added but was thought about at a later point. Sure I’m on the list I guess but to be below the microwave and her hair…

h1

Children’s movies and bright eyes.

August 28, 2011

I often notice my inner child come out with I’m with my husband. He allows me to be a child and not feel embarrassed. I can watch children’s TV and cuddle a toy and he will stroke my hair and let me feel comforted. It may sound strange but my therapists have all said for me to have some time to be a child.  I don’t have many cuddly toys but my therapist told me to buy one special toy to have as a comfort. He is a wonderful penguin and he is a great healer and comforter. When I’m feeling upset my husband always brings him to me. It sounds strange even reading it to myself. I really am quite emotionally immature.

People with borderline personality disorder do have the emotional intelligence of a child due to things that may have happened to them. We may lack understanding due to confusion when we are actually children. Personally for me I had two very contrasting and chaotic parents, one parent is sex obsessed and lives on porn and the other thinks anything sexual is bad and wrong, for example. What does a child believe? Now imagine that happens with a lot of other life lessons, contrasting views, where each parent may change their view from one second to the next. Your mind gets scrambled and when you grow up you try and think what you believe but then you aren’t so sure. And with parents like that it is almost impossible to ever be a child. You have to be the adult and I was the only adult in my household. I took care of them.

Most of my family would think it weird or stupid if they knew J indulged in me acting like a child. But it’s not like I go out in public in children’s clothing and wear a dummy, I just allow myself to regress into a childlike state to experience the comfort from J that I never got as a child. When I’m in that state of mind I love watching children’s movies and my eyes light up with excitement when I see a pretty princess or a talking turtle, I sometimes even point and say “look darling that turtle talks!” almost in a child’s voice. It’s such a wonderful feeling. It can also block out the things that are happening around me because I’m a child so they no longer concern me. These behaviours have never worried me because they’ve never lasted for an extended period or to a worrying extent. I’m just able to enjoy being young. Surely when you’ve had no childhood it’s natural to try and be a child when you are out of the situation that took your childhood from you. I have a nice balance though because I am always very adult any other time but as soon as I get to watch a good cartoon or kid’s movie I have the childhood I wasn’t allowed! I hope to watch a turtle’s tale later 🙂

h1

Self pity.

August 28, 2011

I’m not usually this bad. I simply have to turn the TV on now and I started crying. I watched the simpsons and Homer told Lisa he loved her and I started crying so I turned over to supernanny and the mother was playing happily with her children and I started crying so I turned over to X factor (as a last resort) and the singer was getting praise from the judges and his family and himself were so happy with his achievement so I just turned the bloody thing off. Everything was reducing me to tears. Everything is such a mess. Yes I may be getting away from it all but I’m leaving behind a hospitalised father and a mother who I suspect has autism. She doesn’t recognise that I have ever done anything to make her life any better, although I have been dad’s carer all my life and slept in the same bed with her for 5 years of my late childhood because she said if I didn’t dad would rape her. I’m leaving and all she can do is tell me how useless I am. I’m trying to think of moving forward and starting the new but seeing what a mess my parents are in tears me apart. I don’t feel guilt, I just feel shame and pity. Most teens moving out of home have parental support, while I’m still crying over the fact that my dad can’t even see me off into a new life because he’s in the psych ward. What a way to leave. I’ve always hated the expression “why me?” because the people who use it are often getting upset over a tiny matter in their otherwise okay life but I’m going to say it…Why me? I’m a good person. I don’t know what I did to make all of this happen.

h1

Dad’s Birthday

August 17, 2011

I told my mum not to go to the hospital. The more goes the more he thinks she wants him back and keeps getting crushed when she says she doesn’t care. Me, J and my aunt went to see him, I made him a cake especially as I thought it would be the best present to get him as anything else he would immediately lose. We got there and they had made him a cake. It was difficult to hold back the tears, I worked really hard on it and it was pointless. I was then only one who ate a slice and the rest was brought home. While there he definately wasn’t well, it’s extremely hard going to see him. He keeps introducing me saying “this is my beautiful daughter!”, it’s upsetting because he’s talking like that because he’s unwell.

One more thing. He says he’s coming home tomorrow. This time it’s real. This happened last week too, the psychiatrist also said to him “we have to ask your family first”. He is NOT well. They keep trying to send him home and expecting us to look after him. There is no way in hell I am looking after him like this. He will get abusive if I refuse to do something for him. They did the exact same last week, so he knows if he doesn’t come home then it’s down to me saying no. They said they will have the crisis team and he will do activities in the day at the hospital but that is NOT good enough. He cannot be home. He will try and force himself on my mother and he will be demanding and unreasonable in every way possible. I was supposed to get a phonecall tonight but nothing has happened. I swear to God if they bring him home tomorrow without saying anything I will walk out of my own home. I don’t even have anywhere to go but I’m not staying at home if he comes back. He keeps talking about bringing women to the house and saying he won’t divorce my mum because she’ll get the money but he says she is still his wife.

It’s true that she is still his wife but it’s only in paper. In every other way she is not his wife. You can’t say “this is my wife” just because you have a piece of paper that says it’s true. You need a relationship with the person too. He wants his wedding ring back for goodness knows what reason but he intends to sleep around and chuck her out. I’m sick of explaining this to the stupid bloody doctors who are trying to kick him out for me to deal with. I reckon they will call me in the morning and cause hassle because tomorrow is my husband’s exam results day so it’s not like we’ll both be stressed enough.

BAH!

h1

Dear me,

June 29, 2011

Dear Little Me,

Why did you have to be so awkward. There are reasons why they never liked you, why they used you. Even your parents couldn’t love you enough, especially her, she only loved you if she wanted something. And he was always selfish, you were always second. Why couldn’t you just be good enough. You were always overweight and disgusting, that’s why they laughed at you. That’s why they called you a freak. You were just weird, not good enough to be their friends. They were better than you. Sure, you were smart but who cared about that? You thought maybe being smart would get you somewhere even if you weren’t attractive but you were just too quiet to be noticed. Plus, your friends were smarter than you anyway, so you were never smart enough. I know you tried to look nice but you made a fool of yourself. They laughed and asked what was on your face or what had you done to your hair. You just could never get it right. Your clumsiness made you stupid, your clumsiness made them hit you. You stupid child. Nothing made sense in your world anymore, you could never figure out why you were hated. But did they need a reason, you were just destined to be locked away. You hid a lot, I know, it was safer to be alone. You cried and made sure no one heard and if there was a knock on your door, your face was immediately bright and cheerful, of course nothing was wrong. But maybe you deserved to cry? Not that it mattered. No one would come. No one would know what to do with you. Even if they did, they would get sick of you and leave at the first chance. Why did you keep going? I don’t know what possessed you. Did you believe that one day, you would be saved? What made you think they would suddenly change and take care of you. Are you delusional? I think so. Who in your life has never stabbed you through the heart? Everyone is destined to break you because you are breakable. And hell, do you deserve it.

Love Adult Me.

h1

Parents, growing up and suicide.

May 2, 2011

Well, wouldn’t you expect a happy blogger after getting hitched? Tis not so. Everything has gone excessively worse in my life since. Not my fault of my marriage but everything else (Okay I admit being married is called borderline anxiety problems but leave this for now). While my anxiety has increased massively since getting married and being diagnosed OCD, I knew something else had to go crazy in my life because my life can’t just have one huge problem at a time. Since I’ve gotten married my dad has finally said that he wants to divorce mum, this is a God send because their marriage is part of the reason that I am, well, writing this now. It just seems so many years too late for it to actually benefit me but at least for it to happen now means that my dad may be able to benefit, as for my mum she is socially inept, can’t make friends, is easily bullied, has a low paying job and has narcissistic tendencies and I believe BPD. I can’t imagine her ever being happy with any situation. Even though I am trying to fuel this divorce, along with my dad’s sister, every now and then I break down and cry. I know I’ve never really had a family as such but the fact that they were physically in the same home meant I could pretend.

I went to the in laws yesterday and it was my father in laws birthday, the family gathered round the table and a cake was brought out as the family sang and my heart broke into a million pieces. Even though my husband’s family are also quite dysfunctional, they love each other and do nice things for each other. I’ve never EVER witnessed either of my parents do something nice for the other and it hurt so much to see that even the most dysfunctional family can still be a family. It hurt that I don’t have a family. I have a mother and I have a father but no family. And now I’m married, I have even less of a family because the part of my parents that made me feel like I had parents was the occasional care of which now they feel they don’t need to give because I’m my husband’s responsibility now. I had this particular conversation with my mother yesterday.

I came home from the in laws for my mother to casually say “your dad went to hospital”, I questioned why she didn’t call to tell me of which she just shrugged her shoulders (her usual response to anything to do with dad) , this then brought up a conversation about how I’ve always loved dad more and how she needs to see the one she loves again (her celebrity obsession who has stepped over the boundaries by being her “friend”). She said she didn’t want to tell me that she was going away because I would “go off on one” I didn’t I said to her, “He (the obsession) cannot solve your problems.” To which she cried to my husband “see I told you, there she goes”. I tried my up most not to judge her and to just tell her that this celebrity can’t make her huge life problems better. She sees me as attacking her no matter what I say, I told her that she needs to sort out this home situation too and that she should of left years ago. She, of course, attacked me again, “you said you wanted to live with dad and he would’ve of raped you!”, she’s playing the hero, living with him to protect me. My dad has never touched me in any way that has ever been inappropriate. If anything she’s been the one who’s been over sexual with me throughout my childhood. She starts to tell me that she is trying to sort out the situation at home, so I asked her what she’s trying to sort out. She wouldn’t tell me, she said now I’m married and moving why do I need to know what’s going on with my my home because I’ll be gone. I told her that just because I’m leaving doesn’t mean I’m just forgotten about but she was set in her view that if I’m gone then I no longer exist in her life and it’s not important what goes on in my family because she doesn’t seem to understand that anything would emotionally effect me. She has a very one person view, she can only understand the way that things affect her. I thought maybe she was going to try and sort out a divorce as well so I tried to get her to tell me what was going on because how ridiculous would it be for both parties to be filing for divorce and the other not knowing. You can see how much communication there really is. She ended up saying how she doesn’t want to say anything because it’ll cause problems, J kept telling her she had to tell us. So she starts crying and says she’s talking to someone at the crisis team. After all she’s put me through I can be horribly unsympathetic to her so I stopped myself blurting out, “IS THAT IT?” To me calling the crisis team is not a big thing at all, I just know that they’re shit. So, she’s trying to get herself emotional support…but I still don’t see how that solves the home problem. She wants to continue living at home but have emotional support? She spent ages saying how nobody ever helped her when dad was first ill but every time we asked if she asked for help she said no but she expected it to just happen. So she feels let down by mental health services and she’s angry at them yet how do you receive if you don’t ask? She complains that dad got help and I got help but she didn’t. One, dad had a psychotic episode, of course someone is going to look after him in hospital. Two, I was a child, when you’re a child, you aren’t expected to ask for help when you go through a traumatic experience. I feel like she blames me but I did all I could throughout my life to help her and yes I did give up because of her constant “nobody cares about me, what about me, nobody ever looks after me”. J kept being sympathetic to her and I couldn’t stand it, she would cry and he hugged her and I just got so mad. If he hugs her and comforts her, she will attach to him and because I refused to hug her, she will have more reason to attack me. There were times that I cried and cried and she shrugged her shoulders at my feelings and said “what about me” and I can no longer let her in emotionally because I only get hurt. I only get left behind. So J’s compassion will be her reasoning for me not caring. He also kept telling her I do care and I do want to listen and I do want to help. I don’t. She is a grown woman, I want her to grow the hell up and start taking responsibility for her actions. She has created this life and she takes no responsibility at all for any of the wrong that happened, It’s all everyone else fault. She only thinks I’m ill because of “your crazy dad”, she doesn’t understand situational depression or that anything she has ever done being a cause for my trauma and pain. And until she accepts responsibility for her own actions I can’t help her. She says she wants to die, yeah well you know what, join the queue.

h1

A History- Part 1

March 22, 2011

I got this idea from my friend http://mrshughbankshopewithbpd.blogspot.com/2011/03/who-is-this-person-pt1.html

I haven’t blogged for a while, it’s been strange because I would blog almost every week and in a way it’s good that I haven’t been blogging because it shows that things have been more or less “okay” (in comparison to the usual chaos of course). I do miss it though so I thought as I don’t have much to write about at the moment that I would tell you the history of me and how I came to be here writing this blog now.

Early Years

I was always a quiet child, that’s what I remember, my family describe me as a sweet natured quiet little girl.

My mum couldn’t understand my demands as a child. I wasn’t a needy child but children do have needs and my mum wasn’t prepared to fulfill those needs. I began to realise that It was best for me to be quiet because screaming wouldn’t get me noticed or cared for and If I wanted to be cared for I would get it when it was appropriate for the other person. I learnt that my needs weren’t important. Sometimes I would scream and cry for a toy because I would always get it and this became a pattern, I realised that my screaming and crying did work for material WANTS. I always felt that my needs as a child meant that I was too much hassle, I have always felt that I am too much to deal with. So I wouldn’t make a fuss, I wouldn’t complain because I knew that all my demands were unreasonable. No one would fulfill my needs, if I needed comfort, it wouldn’t be fulfilled so clearly I was unreasonable. I learnt that I was unreasonable and asked too much from my parents, when in reality I was only asking for the things a child needs. Comfort, affection, someone I could go to with my problems. It didn’t happen. I was taught through this that if things are bad and if you aren’t satisfied with something then you just get on with it and shut up because no one cares and no one will help you.

I did have friends as a child, although most of them were false. I wasn’t a very attractive little girl in my later childhood and of course I was bullied for this. I had a few best friends but they all bullied me at some point or another or left me for someone “better”, I always felt other people were better than me. And looks played a big part in this, as a child I figured that the prettier you were the better person you were, the more liked (A habit of thought I’m still yet to fully get out of). I’ve heard many people say “everyone gets bullied” and that may true to an extent but not everyone gets bullied and then has no parental support to help overcome that fear and self esteem knock. THAT, I feel, is the key behind who actually gets severely affected by bullying. One of my best friends ‘G’ was very pretty, she was skinny and blonde, I was overweight with long, messy brown hair. We both had a friend called Z who lived in our street and we both liked him and of course he liked her back and they were boyfriend and girlfriend for a little while, I don’t know how they broke up…how do primary school kids even break up? Anyway, he favoured her and she would rub it in my face. It didn’t seem fair, what was wrong with me? Why did everyone bully me? Why did I have to be so unattractive? I stayed friends with her, of course, I wanted to know how to be like her so people would like me. It wasn’t fair. Then there was L she had a disfunctional home too she was older, always nice to me, unless there were other people around. She would then make fun of me infront of people to get their approval. We would play hide and seek and I was left in my hiding place while L and her friends left me there. They would laugh at me and laugh until I cried and ran home and none of them ever apologised. L just waited for me to come back to her again.

At primary school I was friends with a group of girls, there were 5 of us. The pretty girls would call us freaks and because of all their taunting sometimes I didn’t want to be friends with them because if the “better” girls thought they were freaks then they must be. What mixed up and horrible thinking, and this is in primary school. My beliefs of people were (are sometimes still are) based upon what the more attractive of our species believe because I’m just dying to be liked and accepted by those who are liked and accepted by the rest of the world. When you’re bullied for your looks, this is how you start to think. Beautiful people are better. I am still friends with one of those girls in that group and I’m sorry for how I felt sometimes, I’m not scared to be your friend because you’re much better than them, you wouldn’t judge or hurt a soul. The most gentle and loving of all the girls I know. Katy ❤

I sometimes see those bullies from primary school and I flinch and hide my face. They, of course, are even more beautiful as women now and I feel like I shrink and become insignificant. Sidetracked…

My first brush with mental illness was at the age of 6, my dad’s breakdown. I know you’ve heard the story a bazillion times but I’m trying to include everything. My dad has a psychotic episode, he has been made redundant and as a result his bipolar went haywire and he became psychotic. He was violent and frightening, he would sometimes scream at me without warning and not recall doing so the next minute. My father is a gentle person yet his illness caused him to become violent towards me. He was quietly angry and it would come out when I was “naughty”. The police were called and he was taken away. To where? I didn’t know. Why? Well mum said dad was mad and she would laugh. So I became frightened of people with mental illness from that point onwards. My understanding was that they took crazy people away because they were violent, bad people. But then, he was my dad and I couldn’t believe that of him. So I believe that my splitting may have stemmed somewhat from this view of my dad being jekyll and Hyde. I couldn’t put them both together. They were two separate people.

I was never a naughty child, that I can remember but I always remember being called bad or naughty or as my mum would say to other parents “she’s drives me mad, she’s a devil really”. I would get mad that she would tell other parents that I was bad because I was so well behaved. I wanted to please and be liked. I never got in trouble at school, ever. My favourite time of every year was parents evening where the teachers would tell my parents how good I was and my dad would buy me fish and chips for being a “good girl”. I longed to be told I was good. The only time I was ever grounded was when G was teaching me to ride a bike and I was going down a large hill, I was so scared I froze and swerved into a car. A complete accident yet I was told I was bad and was grounded. I could have been seriously hurt and instead I was punished for an accident because accidents were the only time I ever did anything wrong. If I knocked something over my mistake I was shouted at and told I was a “bad child” and was hit. I would cry and hide in my room. It wasn’t like a deliberately walked over to a stack of papers and throw them on the floor, it was a mistake but I wasn’t allowed to make mistake or I would be hurt. You can see the reasons for my perfectionism. I have to do everything right out of fear of being condemned to being a bad person.