How do adult children of helicopter parents deal with them later in life?

My dad was never a helicopter parent. He was actually the complete opposite.

My mum was a super helicopter parent.

When I was a sophomore in high school, I got grounded from everything.

I couldn't go anywhere or do anything.

I had to go to school and come home.

I couldn't watch TV unless it was about God. I didn't have a phone or do anything. I had to go to school and come home. I couldn't watch TV unless it was about

God. I didn't have a phone or a computer and couldn't listen to music for months. It got worse and

worse as time went on. She'd give me a curfew randomly one day and it would be different the next

day. I'd get in trouble for not following a curfew I had no idea existed. She gaslit me so much

that I often felt like I deserved what was happening to me. After going to therapy, I'm better

able to identify between her more mean-spirited and bipolar tendencies. I'm working on minimizing

contact with her, so whenever she's being a pain in my butt, I just tell her to F off.

Mine say things and I just kind of go, mm-hmm, like I'm agreeing that I'll do those things,

but I never verbally say that I'll do those things. Same. It's easier to lie and agree than to tell

the truth and spend the next half hour listening to a monologue. I still live with my parents.

I avoid their invasive questions, but I'm pretty honest about everything I do choose to share with them.

My siblings and I are whole adults, so they try to be less insane these days.

Funny story, though.

The other day, my sister and I were watching Pulp Fiction, and my dad waltzed into our room,

stared at the TV for a second and goes,

That movie is for grownups. My sister said, I'm 25.

...