I couldn't believe when I read your post because my mom did that too! I've already posted about her before but I could write a book of all the things she tried during my living hell of a childhood. (hope I can say that here- sorry but it's the truth) My mom during her worst couple of BPD years threw away all my clothes while I was away at school. I was only allowed 2 changes of clothing and 2 changes underwear, so you can imagine the ridicule of going to high school in the same clothing every other day with one of the shirts having a big hole under the arm. Both pair of jeans were so tight it hurt to wear them because my mom told me I had to get down to a size 2 and with my wide hips even at 89 lbs I couldn't squeeze comfortably into that size. I could barely bend to sit down and fell over out of the chair several times in class. My last year of school I was not even allowed a winter coat nor longsleeve shirt. She had all these weird rules or ideas like where she suddenly started insisting my clothing be washed in only dish detergent or shampoo. I still remember the green Palmolive permanently making my white underwear turn a dingy shade of green. Then after I graduated I was trapped at home till I was almost 19 where I had no transportation, so couldn't get a job, had no friends because I was an outcast at school plus punished if I did talk to other kids. Was only allowed 500 calories per day, was not allowed out of the house and had to ask permission to use the bathroom and tell her if I did 1 or 2 when I did go. So I had no one to move in with so I could become an adult and get a job. She threw away all but 1 outfit when I turned 18 and was made to wear only long underwear everyday while at home and was so embarrassed when my grandfather came over and saw me in my underwear. Finally my dad allowed me to move in with him and escape her. I was so beaten down mentally I couldn't even raise my head to look up at another person by the time I was in my 20's and in college. Other adults made fun of me I was so developmentally stifled. Now at 70 yrs old she is trying to talk me into letting her move in with me.

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