Self-care

Started by Kizzie, October 19, 2014, 09:35:52 PM

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Brandy

Quote from: Whobuddy on December 12, 2014, 12:46:51 AM
I also am familiar with the feeling of not knowing if it is "clean enough." It is helping me to think of cleaning as self-care and I stop when I get tired.

It will never be clean enough for Drill Sergeant Mom.

I'm pretty good at most of the house, but the kitchen is where evil lives. We got a dishwasher, and we never eat anything but frozen meals. I feel a lot better when I don't spend much time in the kitchen, but it's just avoidance. It's one of the things I've just given up on. I used to cook more out of necessity but now I live here, where frozen meals are plentiful, tasty and cheap, so I was all too happy to give that up!

I guess I don't eat well, but I feel so much better when I don't worry about it and just eat whatever I want. I keep presliced cheese in the fridge and I eat it by itself, which is the kind of thing my mother sees as a crime. WHERE'S THE BREAD. YOU CAN'T EAT THAT WITHOUT BREAD. Brrr, kitchens and food!

flookadelic

Zazu wrote
QuoteWhobuddy, there was the same situation in my house growing up, pretty much exactly. Housecleaning time was something to be feared, because it would be in an out-of-control rage from mother. However, she also had an occasional habit of going into my room while I was at school and stripping it of everything, even my prized possesions, leaving it empty and echoing. There was such a feeling of invasion at those times. Brr.

Oh my God. My mother would change stuff around in my room to "make it look nicer" without so much as a by your leave. This I think was also part of the room searches which would occasionally yield some un-Christian work or other for me to be forced to burn. Like Tolkien, Blake or, most shamefully some trans art I had created. Hello exorcisms on that one. Mind you cross dressing without really thinking it would be noticed as I had chosen blouses and looms instead of a dress was a bit of a naive error! But yes, the feeling of invasion was horrendous.

One dark night I had no idea my room had been changed again, being a child I took a running leap in the dark to where I thought my bed was and found it was replaced by a chest of drawers!

But the whole lack of awareness that space was there to be respected puzzled me then and confuses me now. It got to me badly...those room searches. I remember thinking and feeling "this is mental rape".

Domestic environments changed utterly randomly as every twelve to eighteen months my parents moved house with me in tow for no reason I could discern whatsoever. I think the most treasured possessions I had was a brown handled butter knife as I could remember it as a very young child indeed and my small sized chair which had moved with me unpteem times and was mine. Yes, one day they junked it and told me afterwards. So we would have an utter scorched earth policy every year or so. Move, redecorate, do up the garden, lay carpets, lino, the whole lot. And then move to less than a mile away for no discernible reason.  :stars: One day the brown handled knife was lost during a move. One little marker of consistency lost...I was so upset but kept it to myself as I had learned that attracting attention was an invitation to *.

My mother was a compulsive cleaner so I was never encouraged to do my bit. All flooked up, one might say. Such great care to look after something that was to be discarded for another pointless move. I curse my sanity...it made me so aware that so much was wrong. Yet the fact that I had CPTSD went under my radar for decades whilst I just assumed it was part of me, not a condition or an affliction. Jeeeeeeeez...

I know I keep saying it but I am astounded that such details (like room changing) are shared experiences.

FrillyFarmGirl

Quote from: schrödinger's cat on October 21, 2014, 05:23:41 PM
it's a sign of self-care if we keep up SOME bad habits and focus our energy on just a few little things.

Wow. Good idea. Thx.