Frankenstein’s Mother
August 24, 2015 4:27 AM Subscribe
"Since I was a little girl I’ve been afraid of monsters. I’d put garlic on my window ledge to ward off vampires and sage in the corners to protect me from zombies. Even as a young adult I lay on my ratty futon surrounded by library books terrified someone or something would break into my apartment. After my daughter was born, my fear escalated. I’d check the front door several times a day to make sure the deadbolt was secure and the chain latched. At night I lay in the dark, my mind sending out waves of panic."
Haunting. Thank you.
posted by MonkeyToes at 4:54 AM on August 24, 2015
posted by MonkeyToes at 4:54 AM on August 24, 2015
At those moments I’d take my soul out of my chest and put it in the drawer of my bedside table.
Ouch.
This was way longer than I thought it would be when I started reading. I read it all anyway. Incredible writing. I'd like to think the author could have been just as powerful a writer if she'd never gone through the pain she experienced.
posted by Deathalicious at 4:57 AM on August 24, 2015
Ouch.
This was way longer than I thought it would be when I started reading. I read it all anyway. Incredible writing. I'd like to think the author could have been just as powerful a writer if she'd never gone through the pain she experienced.
posted by Deathalicious at 4:57 AM on August 24, 2015
I'd like to think the author could have been just as powerful a writer if she'd never gone through the pain she experienced.
"Mostly, I tried to deal with my mother by writing about my mother. All my writing life I’ve been obsessed with her. She’s affected not only my subject matter but also the tone of my work."
posted by three blind mice at 6:06 AM on August 24, 2015
"Mostly, I tried to deal with my mother by writing about my mother. All my writing life I’ve been obsessed with her. She’s affected not only my subject matter but also the tone of my work."
posted by three blind mice at 6:06 AM on August 24, 2015
At those moments I’d take my soul out of my chest and put it in the drawer of my bedside table.
Of the very few memories I have of my childhood, one is clearer than most. The night, in the dark, that I learned how to intentionally dissociate while my mother was raging. It was a new skill and had to be carefully used, because if she asked me a question and I wasn't there to answer, there would be more hell to pay, but what a relief in that moment.
posted by Sophie1 at 10:25 AM on August 24, 2015
Of the very few memories I have of my childhood, one is clearer than most. The night, in the dark, that I learned how to intentionally dissociate while my mother was raging. It was a new skill and had to be carefully used, because if she asked me a question and I wasn't there to answer, there would be more hell to pay, but what a relief in that moment.
posted by Sophie1 at 10:25 AM on August 24, 2015
"She once mailed my husband a white envelope. Inside there was no note, just two newspaper clippings. One was about psychopaths. The other was about brain-eating amoebas lurking in freshwater lakes."
I have a relative who does this, I'm sort-of glad to know I'm not the only one. Only she tries to match the clips to our life events, so when we were buying carseats for our kids, she sent us a dozen clipping on horrific deaths caused by car seats (improperly installed or just demonic). When we visit her, she recites for us the date of the most recent or horrific deadly car accident at every intersection we drive through. Whenever there's a natural disaster or a mass shooting, she calls us, sometimes before the news alert hits my phone, to talk for an hour or more about how everyone in the world is going to die, most of us horribly and violently. My husband thinks he can talk her out of these things by explaining to her rationally why we decided to buy Carseat X, and how she's unlikely to die in a terrorist bombing, but like the author, I think being morbid and panicked about everything gives her a kind of joy, and there's no real way to fight it.
We once asked her at dinner if we could talk about something besides death for a while. She agreed, and she made it 5 minutes and 11 seconds before returning to death -- I timed it. It's bar far the longest we've ever talked to her without death coming up.
Sometimes when an envelope from her comes, we can't figure what recent facebook status or piece of family information must have made her realize we need a new set of articles about horrible deaths, and we make bets before we open it over who's going to be dying of what this week. "I think it's going to be bicyclists with brain damage in comas because you posted something about working on your bike." "No way, it's because she heard from a relative that we enrolled Kid 1 in martial arts, it's totally going to be about children suffering total paralysis from karate class gone wrong." It's the only way we can cope with the relentless morbidity and terrifying packets of articles about how everything we do in our lives is going to result in us and/or our children dying horrible, painful deaths.
posted by Eyebrows McGee at 12:51 PM on August 24, 2015 [1 favorite]
I have a relative who does this, I'm sort-of glad to know I'm not the only one. Only she tries to match the clips to our life events, so when we were buying carseats for our kids, she sent us a dozen clipping on horrific deaths caused by car seats (improperly installed or just demonic). When we visit her, she recites for us the date of the most recent or horrific deadly car accident at every intersection we drive through. Whenever there's a natural disaster or a mass shooting, she calls us, sometimes before the news alert hits my phone, to talk for an hour or more about how everyone in the world is going to die, most of us horribly and violently. My husband thinks he can talk her out of these things by explaining to her rationally why we decided to buy Carseat X, and how she's unlikely to die in a terrorist bombing, but like the author, I think being morbid and panicked about everything gives her a kind of joy, and there's no real way to fight it.
We once asked her at dinner if we could talk about something besides death for a while. She agreed, and she made it 5 minutes and 11 seconds before returning to death -- I timed it. It's bar far the longest we've ever talked to her without death coming up.
Sometimes when an envelope from her comes, we can't figure what recent facebook status or piece of family information must have made her realize we need a new set of articles about horrible deaths, and we make bets before we open it over who's going to be dying of what this week. "I think it's going to be bicyclists with brain damage in comas because you posted something about working on your bike." "No way, it's because she heard from a relative that we enrolled Kid 1 in martial arts, it's totally going to be about children suffering total paralysis from karate class gone wrong." It's the only way we can cope with the relentless morbidity and terrifying packets of articles about how everything we do in our lives is going to result in us and/or our children dying horrible, painful deaths.
posted by Eyebrows McGee at 12:51 PM on August 24, 2015 [1 favorite]
Please tell me you guys make the Debbie Downer sound when you receive an envelope from her. It'd be the only way I could deal with that.
posted by lilac girl at 7:50 PM on August 24, 2015
posted by lilac girl at 7:50 PM on August 24, 2015
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So much has been lost to depression and other forms of mental illness.
posted by rmd1023 at 4:54 AM on August 24, 2015