Quote:
Originally Posted by nns
You know I think you're right. My mom is one of those people who doesn't talk when something bothers her or she's upset at you. When I was a kid growing up, I remember I made her mad and she stopped talking to me for around 4 months. No exaggeration. She wouldn't talk to me. I didn't know what I did wrong. I was maybe 12 or 13 years old. She stopped talking to me, so I stopped talking to her. Silence. I was a kid, I didn't know how to handle it.
Because I grew up with this shitty impression of how to deal with problems, now I've adopted that shitty personality. I can't deal with my problems well. If someone bothers me, I won't talk to them.
Again, when I was younger, early teens I think, my sister and I had a disagreement. Some dumb shit. I wouldn't admit to being wrong, wouldn't talk to her about it either, and we didn't talk for around 6-7 years. It got a little bit better after about the 8th year or so. Still weird to talk to her these days.
I absolutely hate how I've become like this. My default reaction is silence. It's horrible. What's worse, I can't seem to change either. I can't get out of this instinctive reflex. I resent my mom for this.
Everyone, take it from me. If you have this silent treatment, please don't pass it on to your kids. Think of it as a disease. It's poison. Don't let someone else's life turn out like mine.
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First, I feel for you. I think you should consider some therapy. If you've tanked relationships as a result of this, then talk it through in a professional setting and get some help on how to deal with it. It may be the single most important investment you make in your life.
Not a comparison at all to your situation, but my mom's classic passive aggressive move was the fucking bathroom. I can still play this out in my head clear as day.
So my sister would do something to piss them off(near constantly actually), they'd get to yelling downstairs, so I'd take off(i knew that pissed off parents were infectious). Yelling would stop. My sister would inevitably end up in her room upstairs, but my mom, for some reason, would know that this was too easy.
So Mom would always feel the need to clean the bathroom. We had these stupid plastic soap dishes and toothbrush holders that would sound like throwing an ice cube in the bathtub when you hurl them into a sink. It was like nails on a chalkboard.
It was your classic indicator that you are still in the dog house. Forget sitting in your room and relaxing after a long day of getting in trouble...nope, it was fuck you, you deserve a headache.