No wire hangers!

It’s time again for another edition of Brooke’s Crazy Family.

Remember that movie about Joan Crawford where she went batshit crazy on her kids while trying to keep up appearances? Yeah, welcome to my childhood.

My step mom was Mommie Dearest. Watching that movie as a child was a chilling experience as it oddly mirrored my own life. No, my step mom wasn’t a movie star and dealing with the press, but she would be super sweet one moment and the next she way yelling, “no wire hangers!!” I actually have had my entire closet dumped out for me to put back in to her liking.

There are several more stories of why I often refer to my step mom as Joan Crawford, but I’m trying to focus on the positive here…

Since I have stopped talking to her, I’ve only had to deal with her bitch face at family events that we were both invited to. Luckily that doesn’t happen too often.

You know, I should really write a book about growing up in that house hold. I think I should at least benefit monetarily if I have to be fucked up emotionally, don’t you think?  GAH, sometimes she really gets under my skin. ARGH.

As my friend Lula says, please love me through it.


~ by BrookeLockart on January 13, 2010.

6 Responses to “No wire hangers!”

  1. Aww, it sucks when the person who is supposed to be a mother figure to you messes up so badly. Letting go is more easily said than done… but acknowledging that something was wrong is a big first step.

    • I’ve been saying something was wrong with that lady since I was 9! Father didn’t quite listen. Have you actually seen Mommie Dearest? Not sure if it made its way through Europe in the 80s.

  2. […] This post was mentioned on Twitter by Brooke Lockart, Brooke Lockart. Brooke Lockart said: NO WIRE HANGERS! Blog post. […]

  3. Yay for steps. And for saying fuck it all, I’m being green by using those damn wire hangers. So…STFU Mommy Dearest.

  4. I lurked in this neck of the woods early this week but couldn’t really think of anything to say, I still don’t have anything to say, but this morining, my beloved TiVo had recorded the E True Hollywood Story of Joan Crawford, I was about to delete it, but I remembered this post, so I saved it so i could enjoy it tonight with wine a box of non pareils.
    I’m classy like that.

  5. My mother was pretty much absentee after my folks got divorced — and she was the one who got the kids. What made it worse was she had this shrink that figured us boys were all screwed up because, well, we’re boys.

    In the end, I managed to form an adult relationship with my mom and let the past go — not to forget it but not to let it rule me, either. One brother who got lost in drugs wasn’t so lucky, the other brother, who lives in denial, is at least knows he’s going to hate himself when she dies and he hasn’t resolved his crap…

    (oh, and if you have an issue with graphic profanity and sexual topics, don’t read my general blog — that one is okay, but I don’t do a lot of self-censorship…)

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