Damn, the Power that Be, whoever you are. Are you trying to drive me crazy??

And so for the past few months I have been living in a house not my home. I know not where my home is, if by ‘home’ you define somewhere you can just kick back, relax and rest.

My mother won’t leave me in peace. For the past few months (as I have ranted elsewhere in the Pit), the residents owing the flat one floor above us have been making a lot of noises. Dragging of furnitures, heavy footsteps and strange thumpings noises. Appeals to the authorities failed. Being friendly with the neighbour upstairs failed. My mum picked a quarrel with the Old Man of the House. That failed too.

But the noises are just the side-dish. The main dish of stress, agony and suffering came from no one else but my dear, esteemed mother. Every single fucking day when she come home she would ask, “Did he make any noises?”. Every single fucking day there would be an occasion she would come to me and say, “What shall I do?”, coupled with the typical wringing of hand.

So I suggested:

  • Call the police. “They don’t care. They only go after murderers”
  • Call the management. “We did call. It’s no use”

Whenever she whined to me, “What shall we do?” and I say, “Call the authorities” and she would say emphasis it is no use, it’s all hopeless. All her housewife friends told that it is so. She look so frustrated, so tired and so frenzied that I wish she would allow me to do something, but she forbid me from trying anything.

And finally, we moved.

Yes, we moved due to strange noises in the nights and days. Actually,it also due to the smell of shit and urine all over my apartment, but that’s another story.

It was a bad decision, anyway how I looked at it. Our finance is in the red. I am on loan for my undergraduate studies. My sister is holding onto a lowly paid job. And we moved, suffering a big loss in progress.

I don’t know what crack my mum was smoking. (She doesn’t smoke, anyway). I don’t know what the hell have gotten into her head. She was so eager to move that just after looking at a couple of apartments, she plop down a 2-month deposit for a rented flat, and got all of us to move. Mind you, I never had a chance to look at the flat, nor did my sister. We tried to go with her usually, but how can you do that when suddenly in the middle of preparing for a major presentation at school, she just called and ask if you are free?

So she rented the flat without consulting my sister or me.

The packing was hectic. Have you tried moving out in three days notice, in the middle of teeming tutorials and while datelines are screaming at you? Have you moved, knowing full well tomorrow after crating all your stuff, straining your back and arm and having a sleepless night, you still have to work tomorrow?

Yep, that’s the situation. I hated it. Everyone hated it. But my mum just want to get away from the noises and the smell.

That’s not the bad part. The bad part is just now, just as I came home, my mum said she wanted to tell me something. And what did she tell me?

“I am going to tell you something. Please don’t get angry.”

Oh my goodness. I wonder why they have to do this all the time. Telling me not to get angry is good as plucking twelve dozen adrenaline shots into my bloodstream. It’s an invitiation for my heart pressure to shoot upward. How can you not get angry when someone just told you not to, hinting to you that she going to tell you the worst freaking news you have ever heard before? By sheer willpower, of course.

“I think this place is like the old one.”

I evidently don’t have much willpower. I lost it.

“You told it wouldn’t be like that.”
“Do you like the other rented flat which we look at?” was her response.

She went to tell me how exactly our new home is like the old. There are noises upstairs all the time. There are heavy footsteps. Whenever she have done something which produce some noises, there’s always something from upstairs in reply. I hope she’s wrong. But if I am, the it means that she is going mad, and that’s a bad sign too.

“So what do you want me to do?” I ask.

This is what I hate most about this. The “Oh-my-god-things-are-so-sucky-but-don’t-bother-trying-anything” routine.

Listen, mum.


…to be in this new place. I am jolly well going to do something.

“Right, I will go upstairs and explain that we have just moved in. Maybe they think the unit below them is still empty.”

No, no, no. She plead. Don’t do anything of that sort. The owner of the upstair unit must be another Unreasonable Evil Old Man who will do anything to make our life a living hell. I know a generalisation when I see it – I done it so often myself.

“All right, let go to the police.”

No, no, no. The police never care. Unless the Evil Old Man Upstairs happen to be a serial rapist, murderer or something worse.

“Fine, let get the town council.”

No, no, no. We rented this place from someone else. They’ll never care. And we did call in the management last time. It doesn’t work.


“All right, let find the FREAKY BLOODY PERSON from WHOM we PAID money to RENT THIS IDIOTIC PLACE,” I said (paraphrased).

That calmed her down. For the moment.

If there’s a Power that Be, I’ll like to lodge a formal complaint now. Thanks.

I don’t know how you are managing to get anything accomplished in your personal and private life at all!

You know what the real problem is. The police and the landlord can’t fix it. Moving won’t be able to fix it. Since you are flat broke at the moment, maybe you and your sister need to get your heads together and come up with some solutions designed to get your mother some help.

Maybe social services will know what to do. I’m sorry that I don’t know more about what is offered.

I can at least commiserate. I hope there is a lock on your door and that you are able to spend some time away from the her focusing on your studies and building a private life that will give you the strength to deal with what you have to face at home. You need inspiration from somewhere in order to have the strength to be kind and patient with her. She may be ill and just not able to help herself. She probably needs to be evaluated by a doctor. But you and your sister also need support and help..

Did your mother always live in a house before that apartment? :confused: Could it be that she isn’t “young” or “flexible” enough to adapt to apartment life at the age she is now? Maybe you will have to find a modest house to live in to resolve this, if that is the case? (Of course, maybe it’s just senility as others have wondered, and she’ll do similar things watching neighbors in a house too?)

She’s your goddamn mother, you are not allowed to be “left in peace” by her.

Why the fuck are you allowing something to bug the shit out of your mum? Fix it asshole, yesterday.

I would feel like a failure if my mother ever had a reason over time to ask me such a question, “whined?” wtf have you done to resolve the issue? Jeebus!

The rest of your post is so pathetic, it does not merit comment on. What the fuck is wrong with you (unless you are a minor, of course, or the victim of abuse)? I just can’t understand your pit, you make yourself out to be impotent, but in reality, you strike me as a punk who needs to grow a pair, so to speak, and get moving. BE MORE PROACTIVE, in short.

Actually, the issue seems to be Mom’s potentially-declining mental facilities. If that’s the case, than having 3 “pairs” isn’t going to make the situation much better: my sympathies.

OTOH, if mom is fine and ExtraKun can’t stand up to her… grow a pair. :wink:

Ripper, baby, did you miss this part of the OP?

I feel for you ExtraKun, I’ve been there with my wife. She’s no apartment novice either, 20 years in NYC. The latest residents upstairs in our Yorkville apartment drove her nuts. Late night stomping, dogs and rolling toys over hardwood floors. It was resonant enough that a pencil dropped on their bare floor sounded like it was in our own apartment. Thanks to their dogs, the noise never really stopped, even when they were out.

We moved, the apartment, while a great rent for the neighborhood, was also too small to grow in. We went with a house, no upstairs neighbors, I couldn’t bear to think of spending all my money on an apartment and having a similar problem.

Good luck.

Yes, I would fix it. With a screwdriver. And it’s your fucking asshole which I will be fixing. Don’t worry about your asshole not having any screw threads. It will be, by the time I am done with it.

Get moving? Yes, just because I am staying with my mother, and am almost 24 year old this year means I shall be able to move out and start my own life, right?

Wrong. You are assuming too much. I’m from a country where private real-estate is only afforded by the really filithy rich, and bulk of the housing are public, and you have to be at least 40 or above, an orphan or married, to get a government-sponsored flat.

And so what do you want me to do? Have you read what’s was the problem that has been bothering us? Let me reiterate what I have done:

I PERSAUDED my mum to let me call the police
I CALLED the police.
I MET with the people from the Town Council and explain to them the PROBLEM
I even did my fucking part in pouring out verbal abuse on the Evil Neighbour upstairs.
I VISITED new apartments with her

And for the sake of my mother, I couldn’t do anything illegal. You make it sound as if I have just been lazing around on the couch, turning a deaf ear to my mother and then whine about it. That’s not the case.

You think there are problems that can be fixed just by pretending that you are potent and have a pair of balls? Fine, tell me how you would solve it, hotshot. Remember, nothing illegal.

You made it sound as if I could just up go with a shotgun or something to settle it. Let me tell you this, which I haven’t mentioned, SHE ACCUSED ME OF MAKING THE NOISES WORSE BY CALLING THE POLICE AND TOWN COUNCIL!

Yes, soak that in. No gratitue or thanks for my effort. She said I enraged the Evil Old Man upstairs so much that the noises got worse.

Now, what?

I just had an hour talk with my mum.

She is convinced that

  1. Our current neighbour upstairs is a relative of the Evil Old Man
  2. He’s delibrately making the noises to harass us
  3. She feels short of breath, listless, tired and feels a tightening of her chest whenever she’s in the house. But when she’s out, she’ s fine.

And she just found another apartament. She wants to move out. Immediately. In the midst of my exams.

What I am convinced. She needs to see shrink. I only letting her move out the condition that she’s going to see one.

I hate to say this just based on your stories, but it really does seem like your mother has acquired some sort of psychological problem. That bit about the new neighbors being related to the persecuting old neighbors? That really sounds like she needs some help post haste. I know it would be just about impossible for me to drag my mom in to see a professional if she didn’t think there was anything wrong with her, but you’ve really got to find a way - her problem is killing everybody’s quality of life, hers included. I don’t know where you live or what health services are like there or how they work, but if there’s a way to get her evaluated you have absolutely got to find it.

And take care of yourself, too. Find a nice quiet mother-free place to have some time to yourself where you’re not working or studying.

ExtraKun - are you in Japan? Just a guess.

I’d guess perhaps Italy. (I say this because his phrasing is similar to an Italian penpal I had at one time.) I think his mother isn’t being literal, but that she’s saying the upstairs neighbor is cut from the same cloth. It’s just his way of saying this confuses us. I think… Maybe you should get her checked by the doctor though, she might have just lost her ability to tolerate the least noise. I’m not going to go so far as to say it’s as bad as others have posited, but some people get really intolrant of noise when they get older.

Quite close, but not really right. It’s also an island state, and pardon me for not directly saying what it is, but some people on the board was wanting to fuck my government the other day.

Not that I’m suggesting you should tell everyone, but you do know that this is an anonymous messageboard - if you have problems with disclosing which country you are from, I wonder if you are having other issues than just your mother?

I just have to say that that was beautiful.

As for your location: Singapore? (Don’t answer if you don’t want to)

My armchair diagnosis, worth exactly what you paid for it, is paranoid schizophrenic, and yes, make sure she gets to a good doctor ASAP. I don’t think the apartment is the problem.

I do know that. Yes, I do have my own issues too, which I am trying to work on. I think I have inherited some (if not much!) of my mum’s paranoia. Thanks for asking.

Was there a price-hike on earplugs?

It doesn’t necessarily need to be a severe psychological condition. A person can develop hypersensitivity to individual issues by being exposed to them often enough without the ability to get away.

That’s what happened to my wife. After a few years of noisy neighbors, she wound up very sensitive to any noise they would create. Even noises that would be fairly normal for apartment living got under her skin.

We had a choice to go non-apartment and it’s been smooth sailing. If we absolutely had to stay in the apartment, she might have had to go to therapy or something, if only to learn to cope better.

Well, I haven’t gotten down to describing the problem with the smell of urine and shit all over my apartment yet…

And, I afraid it also means wearing ear-plugs 24/7.