
You don’t wake up one day and realize you’re being abused. Especially not when the person doing it calls herself your protector. When I was little, I thought my mom was the only thing standing between me and death. She would stand at the pharmacy counter, hurling questions at pharmacists about my “condition,” rattling off a list of foods I couldn’t eat, symptoms I supposedly had, illnesses I might be coming down with. She seemed so convincing, so urgent. I never questioned it. I thought that’s what moms did.
[Read more…] about My Life with a Munchausen’s by Proxy Parent









