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Message: <blockquote data-quote="BusynMember" data-source="post: 659146" data-attributes="member: 1550">Although many personality-disordered people have this salesman, charisma, not all do. My mom had no social skills and did not have any friends the entire duration I knew her. I hear she joined some dancing group and had friends there. It is easier to make friends when you all have one interest in common. She did not drive. She did not dress up or try to look nice (she was extremely pretty). She did not actually get on well with strangers and she made nasty comments about every single friend I ever had and any boyfriend I liked. She was overly engaging to boyfriends I didn't like. Weird, I know. But she was different. Closed up. Alone. Talked more to her mother than anybody as they gossiped about the family non-stop. I could hear her mostly degrading my father to my grandmother. I don't remember if we were even on the radar.I read a lot about neglect. She didn't exactly neglect us. We had food. We had clothes, although she insisted on sewing my clothes and only did the styles SHE liked. But we had that. I've read of abused kids who were deprived of that. However, she did not play with us or like to play with us or guide us or teach us anything worthy or show us coping skills. She was the laziest woman on the planet when it came to parenting. She tossed us all three into the world with no world-skills at all.Copa and Cedar, she was oblivious to what others thought. We lived in a very wealthy suburb yet we lived in a run down house, because they never fixed it up or worked on it, and we had no furniture well into my teens. I mean no furniture. Our living room had a desk. Nothing to sit on. It was cold in there so I used to sit on the floor by the heating vent. I remember once when a boy picked me up for a date. I was as clueless as a bird. I did not realize or care what the hosue would look like to an outsider. When we got in the car, he asked, "Did you just move in?"I told him no and asked why.And he said, "Well, because you have no furniture."I do not consider this abuse, although they could have come up with furniture OR they did not have to have moved into a rich town. This set me up for ridicule from my classmates, but again I don't consider this abuse. I think it just shows that my mother and maybe father too were so screwed up they didn't care about normal things, such as having a place to sit in the living room. And a child was born to this strange lady...And she had most of the caregiving as Dad was never home. Not that he would have known what to do with children either, but unfortunately because she was the one there, doing the deeds, she is the one I blame. I got off topic. I have every symptom of complex post traumatic stress disorder and it scares me. Every symptom of it.And I still tell myself, "Oh, it wasn't that bad. Nobody hit us. Nobody sexually abused us. Others had it worse." I can not totally accept that I have this disorder and do not always believe even my therapists (and there were far more than one) who claimed I have every symptom of child abuse.</blockquote>

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