Hi, this will be my first post on here and I really need some advice or help and I’m beyond desperate. My mother is a shoplifter, and I’m only a teenager and I’m the only one in the family that knows and I’m scared to go anywhere with her because I know she will steal items.

So basically since before I can remember, my Mom would steal things. Mainly it was groceries (she would get plastic reusable bags and bag everything up in an empty aisle and walk out looking like she payed) and I remember watching her do this when I was around 5 and not realizing it was stealing. I didn’t realize until i was around 7. She wouldn’t just steal groceries tho, she would steal perfume, lotion, makeup, shoes and other goods. This is where it gets a bit complicated, after doing this for years, she got caught around 2years ago and was put on house arrest, I am the only person who knows that she has ever shoplifted/ that she was on House Arrest. At the time, she told me she had a disorder and was going to seek treatment, but she never did. After she attempted a fake 2 minute apology for years of emotional distress, I sort of forgave her. I know it seems impossible but deep down inside, i wanted to believe that she just made a mistake and that everything was going to stop. And for a little bit, it did. I didn’t really see her take anything and I thought she was better, until she started again. One day we were at the store and I saw some stuff she stuffed into her purse and I couldn’t take it and ran out of the store into the car. She then came into the car after finishing shopping, and flipped out. She kept on pressing me to tell her what made we leave and sorta came off scary when she began listing off random reasons I ran out, (Did you see your crush? Did something happen on Instagram? Etc) then she got this overly confused (and sort of scary) exaggerated face and went, “is it because of ME?” I just kept on saying no to everything she said cause I didn’t know what else to say. Things have just gotten worst from there, one time I was in the store with her (cause she manipulated me to go with her I didn’t want to) and I was walking behind her and she started getting REALLY mad at me for no reason. She said “stop stalking me you weirdo” and “go find this random thing, NOW”. I just walked a few feet away and I kept my eye on her and she went into an empty aisle and shoved some stuff into her purse. When we were waking out the alarm thing went off and my heart sank but nothing happened, we just kept walking and no one realized. In the past months or so she has appeared with new makeup and luxury soap and lotion and all this crap, and she has come home with groceries in reusable bags, meaning she stole it. Recently she noticed I was getting extremely distant from her (and I think rightfully so),and we had “a talk”. after prying for ever, I told her it was because of her taking stuff and she took a FIRM position that she hasn’t taken anything since she was on House Arrest and that she only stole stuff in the first place because she was “desperate” and didn’t have money, however that’s a straight lie. We aren’t by any means super well off, but when she started stealing my Dad had a great job and we were going on vacations to Disneyland, Las Vegas and California. Not to mention my grandparents are relatively well off and would help us out if we really were that “desperate”. Anyways, she started pathetically crying SWEARING she hadn’t done anything, but I know for a fact she has. That night I went to a friends house and she sent me an angry text saying I was going to start showing her respect “and stop treating her like a thief” BUT SHE IS ONE. Now, we are in an awkward position, and it’s extremely complicated because she’s my mom and I want to love her and sometimes we get along sort of (it sounds crazy I know) but I’m starting to come to a breaking point. Thank you so much if you’ve read all of this.
I’m currently crying while typing this, it probably ...

[ Continued ]

Quotes from an interview with psychoanalyst and writer, Adam Phillips:

"I'm not on the side of frustration exactly, so much as the idea that one has to be able to bear frustration in order for satisfaction to be realistic. I'm interested in how the culture of consumer capitalism depends on the idea that we can't bear frustration, so that every time we feel a bit restless or bored or irritable, we eat, say, or we shop.

"It's only in an initial state of privation that you can begin to have thoughts about what it is you might want, to really imagine or picture it. It's very difficult to know what we're frustrated by. In making the case for frustration I want to make it more interesting, such that people can talk or think about it in different ways."

For him, psychoanalysis is a set of stories that we tell ourselves and each other, a way of redescribing our experiences. "To begin with, one needs to understand," he says, "but I think the final project is to relieve oneself of the need for self-knowledge. It's not that it's useless – in some areas of life it's very useful – but there are lots of areas in which it isn't, and in some areas it's actually pre-emptive and defensive, and this is where psychoanalysis potentially fails people, by assuming there is an infinite project and that the best thing you can do in life is to know yourself. Well, I don't think that's true."

http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2012/jun/01/adam-phillips-life-in-writing


"I believe in what you see being most of what there is… and that life's passed on to us empty. So, while significance weighs heavy, that's the most it does. Hidden meaning is all but absent."
:: Richard Ford (from the novel 'Canada'.)

WHERE TO START????....OH YEAH, ZEE BEGINNING, LOL>>>>>>>>>> THIS IS LOOOOONG!
Im 23, got diagnosed a month ago after a FAILED suicide attempt....

The day I tried to kill myself was mothers day, it triggered so much and after a telephone conversation with my dad where he was basically telling me to be more open with him, I just lost it.....

I was repeatedly raped from age 6 to 9 by 3 men who some how decided to make me their toy....my biological mother is what you call a ''SHEBEEN QUEEN". She was that drunk lady down you street you always heard stories about, from the many men who come in and out of her house, poor condition of the house and how her kids just had to deal with all this......*depends on where u grew up*.....anyways, she wasnt around most nights and during the day she either slept or tried to fight off her hang over....it felt normal for me, living like that, I didnt know there was any other way a family lived but it all changed when I met my father, at 6 years old......I didnt know I had a father till I met him, I never questioned who my daddy was because I ddnt know what a daddy was........

life was a bit different during the small occassions he would come and buy me gifts, "ILL NEVER FORGET MY 1ST BIKE"....i felt somehow loved when he bought me stuff and gave my mother money and 3 out of 7 nights we had food to eat at home......I really loved my father......school for me is a blur, dont know why, I had different recollections of certain events but its like i slept whenever I went to school and woke up when it was over.......I remember the 3 men who did things to me and threatened me repeatedly but somehow I dont remember doing homework and writing tests at that age.........
I was around 9 when i started visiting my father during school holidays and eventually met my step mother and older brother. i remember how kind and gentle my step mom was and how I tried to sleep with my older brother when I was 9 and how the nanny caught me naked on the floor and my brother standing by the door looking confused..........that episode was not shared with my father or step mother.......I thought all boys touched girls the way the 3 men touched me.......

anyways, long story short, my step mom was a social worker who noticed my weird behaviour around my brother and other male siblings, I dont know how I acted weird as I have never asked ..........my step mom had to literally hit me for me to tell her about the 3 men back at home....I got taken away from my mother and out in a place of safety after many questions and cross examinations.......that year was the best, I had soo much fun, even though I started being a bully........

a year later I started living with my father, wasnt allowed to talk aor see my biological mother and thats when my step mom became "the grinch".......i wasnt allowed to sit alone with my dad and my brother mostly lived with his biological mother.......LONG STORY SHORT: my step mom was emotionally and physically abusing me and my father being a busy business man was not around all the time.....I acted out by bullying kids at school and got into lots of trouble and went from a star student to a barely passing student.....somehow i did well in school when I was living with my mother and when I was at the place of safety.......anyways, I mostly bullied boys, started hating them, purberty came and i hated them more as I ddnt understand why my body was changing and "crushes"........

High school came along and I was put into a boarding school, learnt about sex, drugs and alcohol......my dad was very strict, wasnt allowed to have friends over when i was in primary......my dad did hit me many times when i got into trouble, its his way of discipline....anyways, I failed 1 year in high school barely made it out alive, developed many eating disorders and was obese by the time I finished high school............made friends, and i did love being away...

[ Continued ]

So 2 weeks have gone by already. The 12 induction days are now over, what a relief ! I can still remember how I was living this, how days went by so slowly, with those 2 ‘girls’, those 2 bi*ches ‘rendering ‘ my life hell. Today, while we were on our meth doctor’s rendez-vous or consultation, one of my ex-induction friends (i accept to employ the word ‘friend’ here, how kind of me!) was talking over to me and that conversation TOOK ME BACK TO THE DAYS! Yes, back to the 12 induction days when we were all together, ha! To cut this story short (since I’m not writing about this today, some other day maybe…), I’m just glad I made it out! I imagined two more days with these animals in that cacophonic jukebox, that cacophonic cage, and I would have hung myself out dry, shyiiit. Believe it or not, I even made a rope out of my blanket, ready to be used… “Anytime!” I mumbled, without even shedding a tear, not even afraid of dying, well it was just for a few minutes, since that feeling quickly got out of me.

So today, when I went over to my meth doctor on consultation, the latter asked me if all’s well, if I didn’t get any side effects from my methadone or if I encountered any craving during my first week out and if I’m happy with my current meth dose. Well I told him the truth, nothing but the plain truth: every morning, I would wake up with my yawnings and running nose well, not as much as the time when I was addicted to heroin like back in the days LOL, but I’m not supposed to get any of this, not even an inch of all this ! My body was not on top mode, which is true as compared to the days when I was on induction. Even if I didn’t sleep at that time, my bosy was not as torn as it is now; we had less physical activities, less thinking to do and most of all, no stress at all, no phone ringing, no email to check, no meeting, nothing! As on my current life situation, when all’s back on other than the heroin cravings gone, I would have to, for instance, assist my parents in cleaning their yards, yes yards with an ‘s’. The truth? Well, I prefer to stay at work premises rather than spend a day home when my parents are at home as well since there would always be somewhere to go, something to do, no rest at all. And the days where we have nothing to do (meaning no cleaning or house chores), well, we would spend the days at the beach swimming and running on the beach. And I’d be all cranked up the next day at work, body all messed up, cramps, etc…

So I told all this to my meth doc and the latter just thought that was gibberish, from what I could conclude. The first thing he would mention was that I didn’t do as much physical efforts in an office, forgetting the fact that office is a part of my life. He said he would raise my daily meth dose but the question remains, since he didn’t write anything in front of me, and that’s quite discouraging.

Because then, the devil would lurk around me and maybe at a later stage, push me back on the streets who knows?? I know very well that a higher meth dose (maybe a 5ml raise might do to start with) is not recommended. Is it not better to be on a relatively higher meth dose than to hit back the streets ?

Think about it !

my father always was suspicious as to why i get really anxious any time my boyfriend leaves. he thought i was doing drugs with him or something - i'm straight edge, so no, i'm not doing any drugs that cause some sort of anxiety disorder. though i did think about how whenever my boyfriend leaves i get anxious. even so when i'm with him i start to get anxious because he's leaving soon. this only happens with him. i automatically assume i'm never seeing him again. i panic and feel as if i cannot feel okay without him. i absolutely hate this, i don't know how to change it, the only thing i've tried is distancing myself but that only leads to emotional distance in the relationship and makes everything worse. i don't know what to do. i don't want to depend on him to feel okay.