Did anybody have a mother like Joan Crawford?

I think my mother was bipolar. She fluctuated between incredible happiness and totally dark moods. Attitudes about mental health were a lot different when I was growing up in the '70s. And the idiots in my family think professional help is only for convicted serial killers. My childhood is in my rear view mirror. I almost turned out alright. The worst thing I recall is Mom not speaking to me for up to three weeks at a time. This started when I was about five years old and happened at least a few times a year. What did I do to provoke something like that? I am not sure. It was usually misplaced aggression. It seemed to happen after Mom got ticked off at someone else. A few years ago I asked my older sister about it because I wanted to know if my recollections were accurate. My sister confirmed what I remembered. It wasn't that bad. It made me grow up and be independent at a very young age. It also toughened me up. When Mom was in a good mood she acted surprised that I did not speak much with her. I was afraid anything I might say would be used in the future to insult me. Most of the time bullying at school is not that big of a deal. Getting abused at home really sucked. You should feel safe at home with your family.

I used to refer to my mother as "Joan Crawford Lite" (which, I realize, is an oxymoron).

My mother wasn't quite as bad (more unrelentingly neurotic than abusive, although she was abusive, too) but even a lot of Joan's mannerisms --- the manipulative/victimy posing in particular --- I recognize clearly from my own mom.

In particular, Joan in BABY JANE and STRAIT-JACKET make me think of my own mother. Minus the wheelchair. And the axe... It's the "tortured" posturing that's so familiar.

P.S. People need to remember that the real Joan Crawford was worse than the Dunaway version from the movie.


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Non-sequiturs are delicious.

Not a mother, but I work with psyco coworker. She's in her 60s, but she acts like a 5 year old. I walk on eggshells around her. She's not a manager, but she tries to run everything. She screams and complains about every little thing. If you do A she complains. If you do B she complains. You can't win with her. She crys over everything too. If a manager gets on her she bursts into tears! One time her boss (which she was terrified of) yelled at her and she cried for 5 or 6 hours. She was still crying when she got off work that day.

I'm like Tinkerbell, Finn! I need applause to live!

Maybe not as bad as Joan, but who in this world has a perfect mother? One person may think that someone else's mother is the ideal mother, but someone else might say the same person is evil. It seems like no one's ever happy with the mother they had. If we didn't have something to complain about, some of us would rather not be alive. A good mother disciplines her children and is not a friend to them. I have a teenage niece who thinks her mom (my bratty sister-in-law) is the best because she's more of a friend to her than a mother figure. It's not because she had her real young either - she was 26, but wants to be friends with her daughter and her daughter's friends. I just don't think that's respectful or is a good thing, but maybe others would disagree. I mean, a 45 year old woman who burns her skin at a tanning salon and walks around at family parties in a bikini just seems a little out there to me, but maybe I'm old fashioned. I just know I wouldn't do it.

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My grandmother was.. and I lived with her growing up. Christina Crawford has nothing on me.

I get kind of tired of hearing people talking about the sanctity of motherhood.
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Yes, Mr. Drink, the all encompassing and nurturing qualities of motherhood, that is attributed to all mothers, because they are special creatures, just for being female and do what comes naturally to them. Unfortunately, Men just aren't as capable. Or is it, that our gynocentric society, doesn't like to promote what a father does just as well as the mother?

A stepmother, actually, and yes. Growing up was a confusing, terrifying experience - to the point of escaping into books and even blocking out huge amounts of time. I'd pray for god to kill me. Her attempts to make me ashamed of being female/having a female body, failed miserably.

I went to school with marks - one time she left the imprint of her hand on my back; the blouse I wore had buttons at the back, and they accidentally opened, revealing to all my classmates and teacher a black/blue/red bruise in the shape of an adult hand. (I told them "my brother did it".)

By grade 4 (that same year), I was cutting myself, and developed dermatillomania, wherein I would pull off my cuticles until they bled badly. I was screaming silently for help, but anytime authorities tried to help or intervene, if she was in the room, I literally couldn't speak - I would choke on words that were stuck in my throat.

By 17, I was living on my own.

I now have a good home and two beautiful children, and I worked very very hard to be a good mother to them, and not fall into the trap of repeating the cycle of abuse. I have succeeded.

I'll simply make a huge understatement by saying that the scenes in this movie involving Crawford and Christina are very difficult for me to watch.



**Have an A1 day**