Mom Horror Stories

One time I thought my mother was dead on the couch, but nope.

She was just smashed out of her mind sitting in her own pee.

meep you mom

I always remember the bottles.Lately, I started remembering the names of the serums that the doctors were giving my mom to feed my odd meep. Serax,Marax,Atarax, they always sounded like cleaners to me.They came in tall triangular shaped and tombstone shaped brown bottles with yellow caps. "Do not ever give to the elderly or children." the modern warning says.I never have looked to see why.I just remember taking those spoonfuls of thick, syrupy liquid that made me think of the smell of car exhaust and stale newspaper if I could describe them, with maple and tea tree oil, and I'd meeping run to this meep, because it really, even at that young age, kept my mind from squirming and screaming at me at a thousand miles an hour.It made everything calm and smooth and recognizable.
I was born a meeped up handful, and my mom had argued bitterly to abort me,my dad refusing to let her.
It was the beginning of the end for them, because once she figured out that she could drug me at the age of three, she was free to meep the real estate agent that lived across the street from us.
I swear I remember a shadowy figure lingering in the living room while Mom waited for me to fall into my narco slumber.During the day I would play out back with my dog, Freebie, the mutt until It was meds time, right after peanut meeper and jelly sammich time, and then off to the beautiful nothingness of the brown bottles.
The day dad figured all this out, I remember waking from my haze early to shouting and glass breaking, my dad yelling about moving he home to Conneaut ,Ohio to be near her mom, and in weeks we were in another state, in another house, and I was no longer allowed the drugs.
I remember how weird it was to face the world sober at the age of four, how my brain squirmed around in my head until I found cannabis would quiet the meep.
My mom has been laying in a bed with MS now since 1989. They say that chronic, progressive patients don't live that long. I think death would be merciful compared to her screaming, diapered existence. I don't know if she is serving a karma sentence for what she did,and I'm not happy about it, because I can't go scream at her for doing me so meeped up.
I knew she never liked me, until I she tried, and at that point, she had let my stepdad meep with me so bad with his drunk meep self that I hated her. He had a special place for me, and when she crossed him, she got to write thousands " I will not " sentences too.
Happy Mothers Day , mom. I won't be calling again this year either. Happy Mothers day, drunk meep abusive meep stepdad.
Enjoy meeping that bar scag you dragged in to live in the second story of the house my dad bought from you, shortly before you began banging my mom behind Sardis on ladies night.

I got nothin'.
Mom's always been good to me.

My parents moved me back to graduate with my friends, even renting me my own little apartment across the street from the school for half a semester.

I lived "at home" until I was 21.

My mom subsidized my rent at my first house.

My mom bought me a house when she got tired of paying my rent. "If I'm going to be paying your rent, I at least better be meeping the landlord."

My mom put up with me and my psychologically abusive boyfriend, even after I chose him over them and moved out.

My mom, even though we weren't speaking, signed over the car I was driving to me.

My mom forgave me for my mistake and took me back, helping me nurse myself back to health.

My mom let me move back into the house, which now has (almost) all new appliances, and now has functional everything (except thresholds. Those are still death traps.)

My mom hunted down a later model Jetta TDI in good condition, negotiated for it, drove me to Alabama to get it, and co-signed a loan on it, dropping the interest rate to something like 3%.

Oh, and did I mention she drops $10 on each of my credit cards each time she gets paid, even though I'm unemployed?

I love my mom. She is a meeping saint for not having murdered me yet.

I got nothing either. My mum was the best, until the dementia set in.

She died christmas 2003 and I miss her.

Do this thread on siblings and it's a whole different story.

I can't say anything bad about my mother. She did the best she could, and she has been my #1 champion, always.

Daddy thread? that's where i a go all ballistic and meep..

@ghostrider That will be for fathers day

Happy Mom's Day, Miss Heather. Wait, are you an mom?

@bobacus

I am, I am a mother. Thank you!

Happy mothers day mom, thanks for always calling me worthless. Thank you for accusing me of being pregnant, when i was, and letting it go when i lied and said i wasn't. Thank you for letting me get raped at the age of four years old. Thank you for not noticing it kept happening. Thank you for never noticing that i started doing drugs, smoking and drinking at the age of eight. Thank you for not noticing i had scraped half my face off one night after taking too much x. Thank you for never hugging me. Thank you for only telling me you loved me when i cried at night after saying it to you. Thank you for accusing me of trying to get out of school when i told you i was transgender. Thank you for never noticing all the bruises after getting beat up. Thank you for not letting me be able to hate you for any of this. Thank you for kicking me out when i was most vulnerable, Thank you for not being there when i was so terrified i tried killing myself. Thank you mom, i love you.

my mother didn't notice a lot of things either. meep her.

You still love her too? @sunny77

no. she guilt trips me, and she knows she does it. i do not love her. i am terrified of her. i have to act a certain way around her.

How do they do that so easily? Are they meeping built with sympathy magnets? I don't understand. I bet you are already ten thousand times better a mother. Jeez, can you be my mom sunny?

don't really want to talk about this. at all. and i'm not being anyone's mom save for my infant.

Haha ok ok, i have another mom so its all good. I just have to remember that.

you and i can talk about it if you want, but i can't get involved with anyone on that level.

i know what pain is, and so do you, from what i just read.

It just creeps up on me sometimes that she really wasn't that great. I get all creepy for a while then i'm better again. i just need to focus on something else when it happens.

i know what it's like. i go through phases. from what i've been reading it's part of the stages of grief. i've been feeling "acceptance" lately but it's been fluctuating between anger and hatred for a long time.

Yeah, those last two have been majority, but i can understand why my mom is the way she is, she was raped by her grandfather, and has bipolar disorder. It's easier to deal with when remembering that.

it's still bullmeep. when you have a kid, make necessary changes to be the best you can be for that child so that you know in your heart you will never hurt or meep him or her over. some people have no business having kids.

I fully agree. Sometimes i'm not sure i do want to find my son, i don't think i would be a very good parent.

Gave mine permission to die, while she was laying in bed at an old folks home, and couldn't swallow anything anymore.
My brother was too meeping gutless to do it.
Other than her cornucopia of minor neurosis' ( and the guilt thing, which helped me teach myself to ignore that meep) she was a good mum... and she kept me practicing piano as a kid.
No horror stories though.

if you feel love in your heart for your son, then you would be a spectacular parent. i had the same fears with my son, he's 9 months old now. i didn't trust myself for a long time, i was afraid i would be like my mother, or worse, my father. didn't meepin happen.

I do love him, but i had him when i was eleven years old, saw him for all of fifteen seconds before the doctors took him away, the father of the child paid the doctors to tell me he had died. So i really only learned two years ago he was alive, he's seven years old, and i don't even know his name.

find him, have a dna test. if you don't find him you will regret this.

What if i can't find him? The father was born in England, how am i supposed to find my baby in a foreign country?

if you have the will, you will make this happen, in some way shape or form. i had a boyfriend in college who i took my criminal justice classes with. we'd sit and smoke and talk about crime theory etc. he was interning as a PI. you should look into something along those lines. they get meep done.

You think it will work? Yes, i'll try, hope i can find the money. Wish i had filled out the forms when i was in the hospital. They have no record of me, do you think that will be a problem?

you can't argue a dna test. it's beyond any shadow of a doubt if positive.

:D i just might get my son back thanks sunny :D

no problem. besides that, paying to say it wasn't yours is unethical and you could pursue that too

@anothermonkeyenslaved

Check with the Salvation Army. I don't know how much info they need, but they will do the leg-work for you for a reasonable (read cheap) fee, at least they do over here. I have to admit, I am not sure about the States. They helped my ex find her father after 25 years for about $50.

lol at all the lies

Thank you i'll check them out, they helped when i was homeless, so i might still have some info from one of those guys. :D@dragonstaff

HAHAHAHA

@ThePanther

lol at all the lies

My mother is truly a a saint living among mere mortals. She has spent her entire life making something out of nothing for her children and any other children we drug home who's parents didn't have the time or inclination to provide for them. She was always the "neighborhood mom", and I can't count the number of kids who call her "mom" to this day. Hundreds. We're all in our 40's and 50's now and she hasn't slowed down. It's just a bazillion grandkids she's mostly doing for now. I've had to shut down a few who took advantage of the situation and would hit her up for a couple hundred bucks every month for some "dire emergency" they made up knowing she didn't have the heart to call them out on it. I can't imagine how she does it. She's 75 now and just had both meep's whacked off thanks to cancer. Her biggest fear is that the assisted living place she works at taking care of developmentally disabled adults (retardeds) will let her go because of her age. sunny and monkey, I wish you would have grown up in my neighborhood. You life wouldn't have been perfect, but you would have at least known unconditional love.

BEST THREAD EVER

Also, if I was your mother, I'd hate the everloving meep out of all of you

@ThePanther

lol at all the lies
Probably my meep sister staying reality impaired as always

My mom sucked a meep.

The world will be a better place when her old, shriveled meep is dead.

my mother's passivity makes me dislike her on several different levels. she has an avoidant/escapist personality, she was all about her Harlequin Romance books when things were less-than-peachy. she has a whole box of them in her closet :(

My mom died three years before I was born. I never knew her :(

But you know, we were happy in those days, though we were poor.

Lol, yes, three years before you were born, thats a miracle worker there, survived her meep just to have you did she?@Clamis_Apocalypicae

Well when I say "house" it was only a hole in the ground covered by a piece of tarpolin, but it was a house to US.

it was lupus

You know i never cared what kind of house we lived in, meep, my best times as a kid were all in the same place. A tilted house on 7th street Omaha, Nebraska. This place was literally so crooked we would put marbles on one end of the house and watch em' roll to the other. I remember when we were little there were 'fireworks' outside and my dad 'played a game' with us. We made a fort out of the table and our beds at the back of the house, and stayed there. It wasn't until say four years ago that the 'fireworks' were bullets, and our fort was my dads attempt to keep us safe from any stray bullets. I had the best dad in the world, until my mother corrupted him at least. He tries to make it up to me sometimes now. @bobacus

Right. I had to get up in the morning at ten o'clock at night, half an hour before I went to bed, (pause for laughter), eat a lump of cold poison, work twenty-nine hours a day down mill, and pay mill owner for permission to come to work, and when we got home, our Dad would kill us, and dance about on our graves singing "Hallelujah."

Lol, thats a crazy life bob, i don't know how you survived it.@bobacus

But you try and tell the young people today that... and they won't believe ya'.

Everything is something else until you get older and realize, it's all the same meeping meep. @bobacus

@bobacus

Sorry Bob, I can only hear a Yorkshire accent when I read that. Python were the best.

yeah he got some lol's out of me too

My mother was quite a piece of work. She'd tell me exactly what I'd want to hear at the time and by the end of the day it'd turn out to just be lies. She's lives in this delusion that her world and everything around her is alright and that she's just in all of her actions. Don't get me wrong, I love my moms for carrying my meep around nine months in her stomach, but I've grown to dislike her since she's pushed my monkey meep out.
Horror story? When I was eighteen I moved in with her, her boyfriend of eight years, and my younger brother (who's another horror story all together) into this tiny two-bedroom apartment. I'd had a pretty normal sleep schedule before moving into this household, in bed by ten, up before nine the next morning, but for some odd reason everyone else in the house ('cept for my brother, who was in school) stayed up all night and slept all day. It didn't take me two weeks to figure out that she was up all night smoking meth. She'd go cash my little brother's ssi check and blow it all on dope, except for the forty dollars she'd spare me to buy weed. The apartment was shockingly filthy, the carpets caked with dirt, piles of dirty laundry everywhere, not a single clean dish to eat off of (not that there was much for food), and worse of all the three household dogs never went to the bathroom outside so the floor of my brothers room was covered in feces. I could spend three hours cleaning one room and when I'd come out the room I had cleaned before would already be trashed. But this isn't even the worst part. Mom had this illusion that she had held on to the youth she possessed when she was twenty after she was well into her forties. She wore clothes that were at least two sizes too small for her, so she thought she wore a size ten when in actuality she should have wore a fourteen. She had all these ultra low cut shirts that she'd wear with no bra, so her saggy meep were always an issue. She'd live in her clothes for two week periods and by live in I mean eat, sleep, smoke, and not take a shower for two weeks in the same set of clothes. Worst of all she'd wear tights like this and by the end of the two weeks her meat curtains had consumed the crotch of said tights. My little brother's a straight mental case who should be receiving full time attention and care but she never had time enough to take him to the doctors or to therapy. She could get up and do it if they were talking about her that session so she could be there to, well, talk about herself. Did I mention my mothers also a narcissus? Type A, bipolar, schizoaffective, and god knows what else. Her super macho boyfriend had this habit of telling me that he was more man then me, always preaching that family was what came first before anything, but he's the only 'man' I've heard of that let his girlfriend's addiction run not only his life but the lives of all the people he considered family.
They kicked me out for working with my sister to get my brother out of there. I was on a plane home the next day after living as what felt like another person for four months.

We're all glad you are out of that meephole.@orgasmatron

My mother was quite a piece of work. She'd tell me exactly what I'd want to hear at the time and by the end of the day it'd turn out to just be lies. She's lives in this delusion that her world and everything around her is alright and that she's just in all of her actions.

meepING THIS

@orgasmatron

She wore clothes that were at least two sizes too small for her, so she thought she wore a size ten when in actuality she should have wore a fourteen. She had all these ultra low cut shirts that she'd wear with no bra, so her saggy meep were always an issue.

Son?

hawt

[@ghostrider]
Not according to mommy's little soldier.

Listen, orgamsawhateveryourcallingyourselfnow. We do not air our dirty laundry in public, I raised you better than that. Your uppity sister and mongo brother know better, why can't you be more like them?

To All:
Size 14? LIES.

Love,
mom

Important to See The Bathing of Husband and Wife together to Know How: http://bit.ly/dRB2LM

@Heather

Well at least we can all pick our nose.