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(part 3) - surrounded with psychology
III. Personality Disorders
Today is day three and I will be meeting a houshold of three. A father who has Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD), a mother who has Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD), and a teenage daughter with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD). I met all three of them and I first wanted to observe the father with OCD. I grabbed my notebook and was ready to write everything down.
As I looked around the house, I noticed that everything was spotless. Maybe a little too spotless. Everything was put into perfect spots and it was all color coordinated. I saw a shelf in the living room with a bunch of blocks. The top shelf had blocks that went smallest to largest and the second had them largest to smallest. The next three shelves below did the same pattern. I thought that was pretty interesting.
The father came into the room and said to me, “Don’t touch any of those blocks please. I worked so hard putting them there prefectly.” I told him that I was only looking at them and he pushed me out of the way and began making sure they were all in the same place they were at. I had to write that down in my notebook. He talked to himself as he made sure they were all perfect and sighed in relief and said, “I’m sorry I just have a habit of making sure my things are in the exact spot.”
I wanted to ask him what kind of job he did and he told me he was a stocker at a grocery store. I could just imagine how that was for him. He told me that he almost got fired once because he took to long to make sure the boxes he placed her prefectly straight. If he didn’t have something in the right place, he’d get really angry and force himself to start over again. I made aure to write all of this down and this seemed to be a very effective issue going on in his life.
He told me that he had to go to work and he said goodbye to his wife. As he head out the door, he made sure the door was shut but didn’t think it was. He had to close it again and again at least five times until. He then locked it and headed out. A few seconds he was back at the door, unlocked the door, and then locked it again. This indicated that he didn’t think it was locked fully.
The mother was my next victim. I studied her and she almost looked like a model. She had her hair tied back in a bun with pretty hair accessories. She wore diamond jewelry like dangling diamond earrings, multiple necklaces, and bracelets. She wore a black mini dress and black heels. Her face was packed with a full face of makeup that looked really beautiful. She noticed me looking at her and said, “You like what you see?” I apologized and I said that she was really beautiful. She replied, “Don’t tell me what I already know. I’m actually a model for VOGUE and I swear, everyone loves me at work. Everyone loves me in general actually,” She started to laugh and then finally controlled herself. I made sure to write some things down. She made it very clear that she thought that she was better than everyone else. I wanted to see what her daughter was like. I asked the mother where she was and she said “Oh probably in her room as always. That’s where she stays at all day long. What a lazy girl she is, right?” She began to laugh again and it made me annoyed. I went upstairs and knocked on each door to see which one was her bedroom.
I knocked on the last door, said it was just me, and at last, it opened. I greeted her and I wanted to see how she was doing. I also wanted to ask what her relationship was with her mother. She said that she wasn’t doing the best if she was honest. And she told me she did not have the best relationship with her mother nor father. She told me a story on how she used to be a ballet dancer. Her mother pushed on her to be the best and if she made any mistakes, she’d humiliate her and shame her. She would have to practice her moves, stretch every morning and night, and memorize her routines. Her mother would watch her and if she’d mess up, her mother would lash out. She wouldn’t be able to go to school or go to bed until she did it correctly. Her father wasn’t a good help either because he’s always say, “You need to listen to her mother because she’s only trying to help you become a better dancer honey.” She wanted to quit dance so bad because it drained her. There were times that she’d try to harm herself or break her leg so she wouldn’t be able to dance. She would always think of scenerios to make her paralyzed for life. I was really shocked by what I was hearing. That is just so awful to think about those things due to her mother degrading her all those times. I wanted to know if she was still in dance so I asked. She said that her mother will not allow her to quit and says that she needs to improve. She would compare all the other girls in her ballet class and say that they had a better body and danced way better than she did. I could imagine how she felt and still does to this day.
She started getting emotional after she told me all of this. She said, “I’m sorry I’m crying. I haven’t told anyone this in a long time. I just feel like she hates me and I feel like I’m worthless.” I gave her a hug and told her she didn’t deserve any of that. She told me she wanted to turn 18 and move out already. I said that maybe that was the best option and if possible, cut your mother off because she’s only making your life worse. She said that she’s wanted to for years but knew that wasn’t possible until she moved out. I told her that I had to leave but I also gave her my number and contact information in case she needed to talk to someone.
© eyesthatcry
Today is day three and I will be meeting a houshold of three. A father who has Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD), a mother who has Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD), and a teenage daughter with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD). I met all three of them and I first wanted to observe the father with OCD. I grabbed my notebook and was ready to write everything down.
As I looked around the house, I noticed that everything was spotless. Maybe a little too spotless. Everything was put into perfect spots and it was all color coordinated. I saw a shelf in the living room with a bunch of blocks. The top shelf had blocks that went smallest to largest and the second had them largest to smallest. The next three shelves below did the same pattern. I thought that was pretty interesting.
The father came into the room and said to me, “Don’t touch any of those blocks please. I worked so hard putting them there prefectly.” I told him that I was only looking at them and he pushed me out of the way and began making sure they were all in the same place they were at. I had to write that down in my notebook. He talked to himself as he made sure they were all perfect and sighed in relief and said, “I’m sorry I just have a habit of making sure my things are in the exact spot.”
I wanted to ask him what kind of job he did and he told me he was a stocker at a grocery store. I could just imagine how that was for him. He told me that he almost got fired once because he took to long to make sure the boxes he placed her prefectly straight. If he didn’t have something in the right place, he’d get really angry and force himself to start over again. I made aure to write all of this down and this seemed to be a very effective issue going on in his life.
He told me that he had to go to work and he said goodbye to his wife. As he head out the door, he made sure the door was shut but didn’t think it was. He had to close it again and again at least five times until. He then locked it and headed out. A few seconds he was back at the door, unlocked the door, and then locked it again. This indicated that he didn’t think it was locked fully.
The mother was my next victim. I studied her and she almost looked like a model. She had her hair tied back in a bun with pretty hair accessories. She wore diamond jewelry like dangling diamond earrings, multiple necklaces, and bracelets. She wore a black mini dress and black heels. Her face was packed with a full face of makeup that looked really beautiful. She noticed me looking at her and said, “You like what you see?” I apologized and I said that she was really beautiful. She replied, “Don’t tell me what I already know. I’m actually a model for VOGUE and I swear, everyone loves me at work. Everyone loves me in general actually,” She started to laugh and then finally controlled herself. I made sure to write some things down. She made it very clear that she thought that she was better than everyone else. I wanted to see what her daughter was like. I asked the mother where she was and she said “Oh probably in her room as always. That’s where she stays at all day long. What a lazy girl she is, right?” She began to laugh again and it made me annoyed. I went upstairs and knocked on each door to see which one was her bedroom.
I knocked on the last door, said it was just me, and at last, it opened. I greeted her and I wanted to see how she was doing. I also wanted to ask what her relationship was with her mother. She said that she wasn’t doing the best if she was honest. And she told me she did not have the best relationship with her mother nor father. She told me a story on how she used to be a ballet dancer. Her mother pushed on her to be the best and if she made any mistakes, she’d humiliate her and shame her. She would have to practice her moves, stretch every morning and night, and memorize her routines. Her mother would watch her and if she’d mess up, her mother would lash out. She wouldn’t be able to go to school or go to bed until she did it correctly. Her father wasn’t a good help either because he’s always say, “You need to listen to her mother because she’s only trying to help you become a better dancer honey.” She wanted to quit dance so bad because it drained her. There were times that she’d try to harm herself or break her leg so she wouldn’t be able to dance. She would always think of scenerios to make her paralyzed for life. I was really shocked by what I was hearing. That is just so awful to think about those things due to her mother degrading her all those times. I wanted to know if she was still in dance so I asked. She said that her mother will not allow her to quit and says that she needs to improve. She would compare all the other girls in her ballet class and say that they had a better body and danced way better than she did. I could imagine how she felt and still does to this day.
She started getting emotional after she told me all of this. She said, “I’m sorry I’m crying. I haven’t told anyone this in a long time. I just feel like she hates me and I feel like I’m worthless.” I gave her a hug and told her she didn’t deserve any of that. She told me she wanted to turn 18 and move out already. I said that maybe that was the best option and if possible, cut your mother off because she’s only making your life worse. She said that she’s wanted to for years but knew that wasn’t possible until she moved out. I told her that I had to leave but I also gave her my number and contact information in case she needed to talk to someone.
© eyesthatcry
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