Behind the veneer

[HeidiLou]

This is my first approach for help / support with my life.  Like so many stories mine is that of an unwanted child with a BPD mother.  I don't know where to begin, so I guess I'll start at the beginning.  I will list some of the things that happened to me and hopefully I can gauge some perspective of how severe this is. 

I am an only daughter, 42, not married or partnered with no children, few friends and I fear I am disappearing down a rabbit hole and maybe no one will even notice.  She has most of the classic traits, unable to love or maintain relationships, anger and rage that is straight form the bowels of hell, she is also controlling, vindictive, manipulative, a liar and a bully.  She has relentlessly bullied my father for 50 years and alienated us from the whole family. Splitting is a regular occurrence and it's never very long after a new person comes along before they are demonised. She spoils everything, just seeing that contorted face (think - Exorcist), the rage, the moods, the bile, bitterness, jealousy, selfish to the core, it's ugly and grotesque and I question if she is even human at times.

Of course this is behind closed doors, most people see the charming, humorous, sweet, woman that she should be.  I always lived in hope that she'd bring that into the home - of course she never would.

*She didn't want children and didn't tell people she was pregnant

*Often stated that I should think myself lucky I wasn't a boy or she would have left me in the hospital (that would have been preferable)

*Claims that she nearly died in childbirth and was in a coma for 6 days after my birth, yet let slip a couple of years ago that she'd argued with her sister in law in the hospital a couple of days after my birth

*There are no photos of her EVER holding me as a baby

*Never said she loved me and took every opportunity to tell me she hadn't wanted me, stating once that if they hadn't had to pay for me they could have afforded a semi detached house (yes, really!)

*Lost her own mother aged 6 and said that she had never had a mother so she 'didn't see why I should'

*Would scald me in the bath by never allowing me to have cold water in it to cool it down

*Pulled my two front (milk) teeth out when they started to wobble

*When I was 2 or 3 she locked me in the yard on a sunny day and when I was crying to get back in she leaned out of the kitchen window with a demonic smile and called me over, only to throw a jug of water over me

*In my teenage years she stopped letting me take showers and eventually my skin was so dirty that I had brown strips of filth down my arms, legs and neck.

*Cancelled my 16 birthday plans after they'd been arranged for weeks

*Didn't tell me my Grandmother had died, I found out by chance and was able to attend the funeral, before which she told me I couldn't speak to any of the family.  I suspect she didn't want me talking to them in case I found out the real reason they don't speak us (her - but I know that anyway)

*Just last year she wouldn't allow me to be told that my uncle was dying in a hospice and I only found out that he had died via answerphone msg from her - who leaves that as a message!  I'd started a new job that day and was sent home after bursting into tears in the new office.  Each dying family member is another relationship that I'll never be able to mend so it hit me hard

*When I was 5 or 6 I was told I'd 'have to stop this' when I went for a hug, she never touched me again unless she hit me

*Beat me so badly that a girl at school was concerned about the bruising and threatened to involve the teachers.  I begged her not to, it would have make things so much worse.  I didn't trust that she wouldn't, so I approached my mother with the bruising which she dismissed as me being 'mistaken' (cue demonic smiles again), I then went to my Dad, who towed the party line by also denying it, engaging in the 'you are mistaken' rhetoric.  I have only recently allowed myself to acknowledge that my father, who I idolised, ignored my suffering, in many ways that's harder to deal with than what she did.

*She limited how much laundry she would do for me, so frequently my clothes were dirty as I couldn't change them daily

*As a teenager when I went to bed she'd say 'see you tomorrow teatime', a warning not to return home until then.  I had to seek permission to return any earlier

I hated my childhood, became isolated and withdrawn.  The development of my social skills was severely impaired and I display traits of BPD myself.  I am not surprised that I cannot maintain a relationship or hold down a job.  I have few friends and find it hard when someone likes me and wants to spend time with me.  In my mind I 'know' that they will leave as my BPD will seep through. I don't feel worthy of life or love.  I have had mental health problems for years, and i expect I always will.  My approaches for treatment are limited to my GP as I work for the mental health trust within which I would be referred, so that's not really an option. I also have the inside view of how mental health workers feel about BPD.  Their attitudes can be disgusting and the stigma is enormous.

I have had fleeting moments of how life should be all the time (being in love, content, secure etc) and ironically that makes me feel worse.  I'd rather not know the true joy others feel in relationships, as part of a family and with normal lives, as the loss I feel of everything I don't have (siblings, family, children, partner, security in work, etc) and the subsequent loss of yet another boyfriend / friend / job etc. is so palpable that it's agonising.

I aborted two babies ten years ago because I didn't trust my body to give me the skills to love and parent them.  Paradoxically it was the love for both these babies that pushed me towards aborting them, I couldn't have lived with myself if I took the chance and hurt them as I had been hurt.  My GP said it wouldn't happen as I am not her, but genetically half of me is her and coupled with an undernourished childhood, that heady cocktail was too risky, so I let them go and torture myself for doing so. 

And if you are wondering, well yes I do have suicidal ideation, not an intent but no real desire to preserve my life either.  I recently cried when I discovered that my swollen lymph glands were not cancer than I did when I thought they might be.  This is a difficult one to explain but I guess the thought that my emotional pain would not be prolonged made me feel better. I'm probably at the mid point in my life and I feel lost, scared, empty, alone and crushed with grief and sorrow.  I am alive but not living.  I feel like someone cracked my chest wide open and all I feel is cold air rushing through the hollow.  I am not part of the world, I'm just running alongside watching others living as it should be.

Sorry this post is long and thank you for sticking with it and reading my story. 

I wish you all well. Heidi x

[Kwamina]

Hi HeidiLou

I fear I am disappearing down a rabbit hole and maybe no one will even notice.

I notice! Welcome to our online community  Being raised by a BPD mother can really affect a child. Unfortunately your father did not intervene either.

You have been through a lot with your mother. The way she treated you was very abusive. Many of the examples you've listed are just horrible and I am very sorry you had those experiences.

You mention how the development of your social skills was impaired and seeing BPD traits in yourself. To aid you in your healing process, I encourage you to take a look at the Survivors' Guide for adults who suffered childhood abuse in the right-hand side margin of this board. The guide takes you from survivor to thriver through 3 major stages: 1. Remembering --> 2. Mourning --> 3. Healing. When you look at the guide, which areas listed there do you currently find yourself working on or struggling with?

Many children of BPD parents find themselves struggling in their adult lives with BPD-like traits. This does not necessarily have to mean you too have BPD, often it are learned or copied unhealthy behavior and/or developed coping mechanisms. Whether it is actual BPD or learned BPD-like behaviors, fortunately through hard work it is possible to better manage these behaviors. We have a thread here about this subject:

Recognizing and dealing with our own unhealthy behaviors and coping mechanisms

I also encourage you to take a look at our thread about dealing with trauma:

Dealing with trauma: PTSD, C-PTSD and emotional flashbacks

You are currently realizing that your dad was in a way complicit in the abuse by not intervening. How would you currently describe your relationship with your dad?

Take care and welcome to bpdfamily

[HeidiLou]

Hi, thank you for suggesting some reading to help start this process.

I idolised my Dad and she hated that.  I blocked out all of his flaws, probably because one disordered parent was enough to deal with.  Very recently, last year or so I have tentatively explored these repressed memories.  The most obvious was the example of the bruising.  For a long time I'd convinced myself that he didn't believe me.  I knew that with them both denying it, I didn't stand a chance.  It was the 1980s, child safeguarding wasn't on the radar as it is now.  Without his support I just had to plod on and be more vigilant with hiding any bruising.  Getting through the day was my primary objective.

More recently it occurred to me that neither of them were angry at me suggesting that she had physically abused me.  I guess if a child made a false accusation the said parent would be outraged, but both of them just smiled sweetly and gently insisted it was an error on my part.  I suspect the soft reaction was to 'reassure' me that home was safe and I'd made a silly error.  I also began to realise that he knew about other things.  The hot bath incidents always happened on a Sunday (Sunday bath night!), that was the only day Dad was off work and with a downstairs bathroom there was no way he could not have heard me screaming in pain, begging her to put cold water in.  

Although he was my world, I'm afraid that his crown has slipped.  What kind of a man sits back and ignores his wife abusing their child.  He stayed out as much as possible, work, overtime, nights out, visiting friends etc, anything but come home.  So I was stuck alone with her far too much.  I feel now that he threw me under the bus and saved himself.  She is 100% responsible for carrying out the abuse, but he played a huge part in how long I endured it by not removing us both from the situation.

When I brought teenage friends home from school the first thing he would say to them was that I never washed and I was dirty.  My mother also called me a 'dirty little b*tch' for not washing.  They always left out the part where I was forbidden by her from showering of course.  

My parents are getting old and part of allowing these horrible memories back in is helping me distance myself to prepare for life without them, life alone.  No family members will speak to me because of her, but Dad always maintained relationships with them, shame no-one thought I might also benefit from that.

I've agonised over what to do and have concluded that there is no merit in dredging this up.  He is showing signs of dementia which is distressing and I see him slipping away.  He will be free of her in this life, only if his dementia progresses, other than that only death will free them both.  He always gives me money and presents and I don't feel a jot of guilt for taking it all, but I would have traded everything for a family.  Sadly that deal wasn't on the table and I face a life alone.

My parents have a school photo of me aged 4 in the lounge.  I can barely look at that little girl's face.  The smile isn't really a smile and even then I looked broken.  She had no idea what more was to come in the years that were to follow.  I love my Dad and having been in an abusive relationship myself I know how hard it is to leave but how could he let that little girl that I was then, live in so much pain.  I felt and feel abandoned and have been punished my whole life for my mother's mental illness.  I live in a world where some people won't even acknowledge me because I'm her daughter.

(Mildly) amusing anecdote from a few years ago, we were all at a close family friends wedding and my mother introduced me to someone as R's (my dad) daughter, only to be swiftly reminded by someone that I was her daughter as well!  Then this person turned to me and said,

"sometimes you don't know whether the man is really the father of the baby, but in your case it was the opposite. We always knew that he was your father; but we weren't always sure that she was your mother"

I am not joking, this happened! My mother thought it was hilarious and laughed like a drain while I bit the inside of the my cheek to stop from crying.  How many more of the adults in my childhood were looking the other way?

[Kwamina]

I idolised my Dad and she hated that.  I blocked out all of his flaws, probably because one disordered parent was enough to deal with.

I think this makes sense and I've heard other members express similar things. It's bad enough having to deal with one disordered parent, let alone two. For you to also have to see your dad as a flawed and disordered individual might indeed have been too much for the little child you were. That would have felt as yet another abandonment. By blocking out his flaws you were in a way able to give yourself at least one 'loving' parent, otherwise you would have felt even more alone. You could perhaps say that this was a coping mechanism you developed. Other way of looking at it is that everything is relative and compared to your mother, it would definitely be easier to bond with your dad.

Although he was my world, I'm afraid that his crown has slipped.

Quite understandably so. You are learning to see your father with new eyes, learning to see the real him instead of the idealized version of him. He was indeed an adult and not just any adult, he was your father and had certain responsibilities. Unfortunately he for whatever reasons did not behave in a responsible way towards you. I can imagine this is a difficult realization because it basically means letting go of the 'loving fantasy' father and accepting the reality of who your father is, flaws and all. In a way this is like a mourning process.

How many more of the adults in my childhood were looking the other way?

It is very sad indeed that no adult intervened during your childhood when you really needed it. You were just a child and needed help. We cannot change our past, which is something that can also be very hard to accept. Only thing we can do now that we are adults, is work through our issues as best as possible and do what we can to heal ourselves. By reaching out here you've taken another step towards healing yourself

[HeidiLou]

Thank you for your kind words,  I don't know how other people feel but I just wanted her to love me, not much since we are (allegedly), biologically suited to love our children with our old friend Oxycontin.  My mother's action and my fear led to me becoming a submissive child.  My dads mantra appears to be "just keep your mam happy".  He never saw that she was a sinkhole of mayhem and her capacity to experience the world positively was slaughtered at the alter of BPD.  She is not, never has been and never will be happy.

Buckling to her moods, controlling behavior and general hatred for life and those in it, 'taught' me how to waste years of unhappiness in abusive, inappropriate relationships, where love is not offered and by kidding myself that I had enough for the love they lacked for me.

These are somethings that people have called or said about me;

Weird

morbid

spoils everything when I am there

nasty

b___

witch 

desperado

psycho

a f***ing nightmare

'not the full schilling''

too quiet -- this one actually came from teachers to wanted me to make more noise (yes, u read that right), all the while failing to notice the route cause for my withdrawn, miserable and crushed self

BPD behaviors and traits infection everyone close.  It is the unrelenting micro-management, ultimate control gained at any cost and managing her blow ups.  The repulsive words on that list describe my inner torment, and yes I will say it - envy of others who seemed to get everything for no effort and no maintenance.  For me loving and hating intertwine, anxiety creeps in, relationships turn me crazy out of jealousy. I adopt the classic trait of 'i love you don't leave me.  But why stay when there are a million other girls who would never display such bad behavior stemming from underlying fears of abandonment.  In my eyes, if your own mother couldn't love you, even with genetics and biology on her side, how could another to do so? 

Needles to say that I have spent my life alone or with people who didn't love me as much as I did them.  The sorry thing about it is that I now have full insight into my ridiculous behaviors, yet can do nothing to to temper their frequency or intensity.  I didn't know that a person could feel abandonment like an open wound.  The emotional pain is indescribable, but I think you will understand the day to day existence that is my life.  Heidi x

[Starting_Over]

Have you looked into seeing a psychologist? I also have a huge fear of people. I relate a lot to your post, and I only have 1 or 2 people that I consider friends. Since I have started therapy, and have started processing my childhood, I have been able to relax around people more. I am not at the point where I have the confidence to make new friends, but I have never understood how other people do it so easily.

Have you reached out to your extended family as an adult? I can't see why they would hold it against you, because you were a child and are not in control of how your mother acts.

[Buck]

Heidilou - Thanks for posting. I had a very similar childhood. My mother  had BPD with severe depression and she was also an alcoholic. She attempted suicide dozens of times in what I believe were manipulative gestures and she frequently packed her bags and threatened to leave unless we begged her to stay. I understand quite well the veneer of normalcy you discussed. No matter how sick things were behind closed doors in our home, my parents played the roles of perfect TV parents in public. My recovery began when I was around 40 years old after I attended a family day at one of the mental institutions my mother went to. I realized that discussing my problems with family members of other patients was helpful to me. I began to see a therapist and go to Alanon meetings after that and have found some meaningful recovery by sharing my experiences with people who understand what I have been through. Good luck, and thanks again for sharing. 

[lm1109]

Hi HeidiLou! I read your post and feel for you so very deeply. I know how you feel with your father. I have been dealing with those issues as well. I have come to realize how BPDs prey on the weak, which is why she tormented you as a helpless child. I realize now, my father was not who I thought he was. I view him now as sort of a weak minded man child... which may sound mean and harsh... but it sort of helps to not see him as a functioning person who has/had the capability to understand. My mother did everything in her power to make sure I never had a relationship with him and she succeeded(he does not deserve a relationship with me anyway) my older brother committed suicide and she isolated me from any and all other relatives. I really am trying hard to focus on the fact that while I may have been born into that dysfunction, I am not them, I am the stronger one who sees the wrong and the dysfunction in it all. Thats who you are in your family as well. I think seeing the dysfunction is half the battle, and you see it, you also articulate your feelings and emotions very well! Do you keep a journal? That has helped me alot over the years. I have a hard time socially opening up but writing my story as if I have a story worth telling helps me(that certainly worked out well for Cheryl Strayed and many others right?) Your abuse was severe and I think you really really deserve to give yourself some credit for surviving it. Yes, we all have work to do, but there is no one who could have come out of our childhoods untainted. I dont know what your views are on God or spirituality and Im not one to preach, but I feel compelled to remind you that we all have a purpose... and believe that you have one... and think you should believe that too. I recently started doing some inner child work, which Im not gonna lie, feels a bit weird... but it has helped me alot. I can look in the mirror and see a million flaws, but I cant look at a photo of myself as a sweet baby or toddler or kid and see flaws. I was a perfect creation, just like my kids are! Its not my fault they made me believe otherwise! Its never too late to take your life back from them. Its certainly a process, and Im right there with you! But its worth it! Finding things you enjoy and throwing yourself into those things as often as you can helps tremendously. I love to be outside in nature, walking, hiking, writing, reading, crafting. Try exploring and figuring out what gives you joy. Im sorry if I sounded preachy at all but your story really pulled on my heart strings! Just know you are by no means alone, and you deserve to be happy after everything you went through!  

[HeidiLou]

Thank you all for taking time to read my story and for the incredible empathy in your responses.  I'm sure that therapy could be helpful, but there are a couple of factors that make it difficult.  Firstly I work for the NHS (UK health system, for those unfamiliar with the name.  I actually work in the mental health trust that would treat me and my cousin's daughter is a psychiatrist in that health trust as well.  I discussed it with my GP and we agreed to only use that as a last resort.  I think it may be worthwhile exploring funding options for private therapy or seeing if another health trust out side the area would treat me due to my odd circumstances.

I did reach out to my cousins daughter by emailing her but received no response.  At my auntie's funeral several years ago there were family members who wouldn't even look me in the eye let alone speak to me.  My mother started a family feud spanning over 50yrs based on a b___y comment that an auntie made about a dress my mam was wearing.  I won't list loads of examples but that one is typical of the grudge bearing, ridiculous score keeping and general pettiness that my mother holds on to, and it cost me a family. 

Thank you for the lovely comment about my writing style.  I find it relatively easy to express myself in writing than in words.  It still feels as though I am betraying her by speaking about her in this way, but the 'joy' of a BPD trait mother is the irony of still wanting to try to love her, I'm only human

In many ways I pity her.  Her experience of life is so negative and isolating, with BPD traits robbing her of the chance to live a happy ordinary life.  I wanted her to love me, not just for my sake, but also for her own, to experience the mother/child bond and the potential happiness that would bring.

Her attitude towards other people can be disgusting, but underneath she is terrified.  She has zero insight and in many ways that does make her the victim she claims anyway.  She cannot see that the way people respond to her is more often than not a result or reaction to her.

It hurts more than I can express to be told that you were born under suffering and to have it hammered home that your very existence ruined someone's life, an incredible responsibility to place on the shoulders of a small child.  With little experience of the outside world I didn't question it.  My mother was chronically miserable and angry and as I was being told it was my fault, it made sense.  Other friends' mothers were happy and pleasant and clearly had good relationships with their children, seeing that further cemented the idea that my mother's pain was my fault.

I have cried at each response here, To speak freely and not be judged is a refreshing change for the norm.  I don't talk about this with friends.  I made the mistake in confiding in some friends as a teenager.  I needed help but they ran for the hills and broke up the friendship, I guess it was too hard for then to deal with.  It's ok though, i understand why they abandoned me, the disturbing thing about this is that now 30 years after that conversation my dad met, and is now good friends with one of their fathers.  A sharp lesson in being careful about what you say and to whom.  It makes we wince with discomfort when he mentions his name.

Not to blow my own trumpet but I'd like to make a list of the good things I have in life too, it's as much for my benefits as well as painting a rounder picture of who I am, so;

*I have my own apartment (3 years and i will be mortgage free, hurrah)

*I have a decent brain and I am a post grad student which I love

*I now have a small but awesome social curcuit of people who accept my, although dogged with fear I initially pushed these people away because I felt they wouldn't hang around, but their persistence paid off and I learned to let them in

*I have traveled, although not as much as I'd like, I have the wanderlust and it never goes away, big beautiful world out there

I don't know what the future holds, but I have paired down my expectations, started being honest with myself about what I can realistically achieve.  Athough there is darkness within me, there's also some great bits inside struggling to bubble up, breaking the BPD cycle will help me improve on this.  I may always be vulnerable to depression and anxiety, but there are treatments for that, I cannot allow this to taint my life forever.  I have a chance here that was never available to my mother, the gift of insight.

Sorry another long post, thank you for taking the time to read through it, Heidi x

[Daisy23]

I really appreciate your openness - and I get a sense of deep health within you from the way you express yourself - especially your last post on this thread. I relate so much to your story - just didn't have it as hard as you did, but many parallels - like only daughter of BPDm. I too spent most of my life envying people who looked like they had happy, intact families and doubting my own worthiness (Mom orchestrated my loyalty by creating cut-offs in one way or another with all extended family, making me think they had rejected me/us).

But I've recently seen that most families have painful issues, albeit mostly hidden. Some are healthy enough to balance the joy/pain but believe me, we are in the majority.

I've also realized that people who are the toughest on me are the ones who have the most hidden pain in their backgrounds. I believe I've been drawn to people whose pain is not unlike mine, but who express it more by projection - and I have been their movie screen. They feel relieved and I carry their burden along with my own. Could this be a part of what you're experiencing? If so, take care of your own pain and make boundaries around people who try to cast their pain onto others.

Sounds like you're on your way!

[HeidiLou]

Thanks Daisy for your response.

There are a lot of people out there who have experienced such terrible things.  Some of the posts on this site are heartbreaking and startlingly familiar.  I gained hope from an earlier reply that suggested that although I may see BPD traits in myself they may be learned behavior rather than BPD.  I had never considered that before.  Which now opens a window to the possibility that I could unlearn those responses. 

My parents have been married for 50 years and I cannot fathom my Dad's ability and willingness to weather the BPD hurricane.  His denial of the bruising was the single most shocking and saddening moment of my life.  During the exposure of Jimmy Saville, and other TV celebrities sex crimes in recent years the question came up many times about why these victims didn't come forward.  My mam stated (as did most of the media) that things were different then, children had no voice and would not be heard or believed.  It struck a chord with me as that's how I feel about my own abuse (not sexual abuse though).  It doesn't excuse it but there was no safe haven, no place to go and ask for help.  I always feared that if I started the ball rolling and nothing came as a result of it that my life at home would get even worse, if that were possible. 

I don't think I carry others' pain as you have described, but I do play (unqualified) therapist when asked - I have a degree in psychology and I am routinely also asked anything from reading someone's mind or to interpret their dreams (I gently remind them that I went to university, not Hogwarts!).  I guess I'm a good listener mostly because nothing shocks me that they have to say.  I've seen the very worst so I don't really freak when someone discloses something they have previously been unable to. I didn't study psych 'to find myself' or 'to get answers', it never occurred to me that my mother was ill, I just thought she was nasty, this enlightenment about mental illness came as a side order.

I do agree with your suggestion regarding looking out for myself and creating boundaries, this will be new to me but so is everything you've never done before.  Its a marathon not a sprint, but at least i'm on the starting blocks.  There will be good days and there will be bad.  Some days I will want to hide under the blankets and others will be great.

I have a small and very simple tip.  When I feel awful I try to find something that will make me laugh, stupid things on YouTube is a particular favorite of mine.  It's only a small thing but it proves that moods are transient and you can take control.  You can override the darkness with light.

Heidi x 

[Carley]

Heidi, I am brand new to this board also, but I have to tell you that your presence here and your thoughtful comments are making me come back every day.  Your willingness to share your experiences, combined with your deep insight into yourself and other people in your life, suggest to me that you can really help others.  You have so much to give. 

I learned that I could start to redress the wrongs of the past by making sure that I never exposed my own children to those hurts.  What I wished I had as a child, I tried to give to my own kids (experiences, not material things.)  I know you don't have children, but maybe you could do this in volunteer ways with other kids.  Just a thought.

[Kwamina]

Which now opens a window to the possibility that I could unlearn those responses.

I am glad this window is open now!

It doesn't excuse it but there was no safe haven, no place to go and ask for help.  I always feared that if I started the ball rolling and nothing came as a result of it that my life at home would get even worse, if that were possible.

Not having a safe place to turn is very hard for a child. Now that we are adults we can try to create for ourselves the safety we needed as children. You reaching out here is also a step in that direction. I am glad to have you part of our online community

I have a small and very simple tip.  When I feel awful I try to find something that will make me laugh, stupid things on YouTube is a particular favorite of mine.  It's only a small thing but it proves that moods are transient and you can take control.  You can override the darkness with light.

Thanks for sharing this. One step at a time, one day a time. A lot of little things can together open the door to some very big things

[HeidiLou]

Thank you Carley, glad that you have been visiting the site.  I'm pleased if something (even a crumb) in my posts is helpful. 

I was thinking this afternoon about my life and what I want from it.  I've scaled down from my teenage dreams of lottery winnings, becoming a Hollywood star etc.  More than anything I want to come home to a home full of love.  Someone there who is pleased to see me.  I have missed so much of what everyone has and succeeds to maintain.  Its heartbreaking and the stigma of singledom, esp over 40 is palpable.  I am single because eventually the poor mortal souls who have tried to love me but always leave.  I'm under no illusions, the majority of this lays with me and my unrelenting BPD type behavior.  Fear of abandonment is a great contributor to the inevitable break up - ah the irony.

Friends are irritated by my lack of a boyf/husband.  They think I'm not 'trying' to meet anyone, and don't I know that meeting someone will improve my life?.  To which I think, thanks guys, yes I do know that being in a good relationship will hugely improve my well being.  Sadly they are applying logic that only fits for people like them.  They cannot see how fear of abandonment scares me into isolation.  The pain I have endured at the hands of other's is astonishing;

-you know about my mother, but there was a school teacher whole mercilessly picked on me in class, and openly admitted it to my mother!

-A mentally ill manager who bullied me out of my job within months

-during 15 years of dating, countless encounters with men who have lied, manipulated and bullied, and on occasion, physically, psychologically and sexually abused - one of the little 'darlings' even knowingly infecting me with an STD claiming afterwards it was because he didn't like condoms!

I have to say that the future looks lonely and rough.  I can hardly support myself as I have so much sickness I barely earn any money.  I cry everyday and miss my alcoholism(!) as I have nowhere to go anymore to hide pain.  I have a chronic addiction to sleeping tablets as sleep is the only time I can put my brain into 'standby' mode and recharge before another day battling through this. I miss my old self, she was pretty, sassy, fearless and bullet proof.  That was traded in at the BPD dealership for an empty husk, with a flat I can't look after, debts that will inevitably push me to bankruptcy and the tangled knot of the double life I find myself putting on for the world.

My heart hurts, I never thought in my life that it would be possible to live with this level of pain, sadness and stress, but here I am trapped.  My potential gone, education wasted and my finances trashed.  I truley believe that had I been brought up in a validating, loving home instead of the maelstrom that I did, many of these issues would not have occurred, or instead I would have been better equipped to deal with it.

Heidi x

[Kwamina]

Hi HeidiLou

I was thinking this afternoon about my life and what I want from it.  I've scaled down from my teenage dreams of lottery winnings, becoming a Hollywood star etc.  More than anything I want to come home to a home full of love.  Someone there who is pleased to see me.

I understand your longing for someone to love you, especially considering all you've been through. Your mother did not show you the love you needed which is very tough for a child. You later unfortunately also had unpleasant experiences with other people. A home full of love sounds wonderful indeed, perhaps the first place to start is be loving to yourself, to treat yourself with kindness and do little loving things for yourself.

The pain I have endured at the hands of other's is astonishing;

-you know about my mother, but there was a school teacher whole mercilessly picked on me in class, and openly admitted it to my mother!

-A mentally ill manager who bullied me out of my job within months

-during 15 years of dating, countless encounters with men who have lied, manipulated and bullied, and on occasion, physically, psychologically and sexually abused - one of the little 'darlings' even knowingly infecting me with an STD claiming afterwards it was because he didn't like condoms!

These are horrible experiences and I am very sorry this has happened to you. The people who treated you this way were wrong, some of the things you describe I would even consider criminal acts. I can definitely see how experiences like this could negatively affect you. What they did to you was not justified though, it was abuse and the people who did it to you were indeed abusers.

I have to say that the future looks lonely and rough.  I can hardly support myself as I have so much sickness I barely earn any money.  I cry everyday and miss my alcoholism(!) as I have nowhere to go anymore to hide pain.  I have a chronic addiction to sleeping tablets as sleep is the only time I can put my brain into 'standby' mode and recharge before another day battling through this.

Instead of hiding the pain, perhaps we can help you find new ways of dealing with the pain. Posting here is a way of facing your issues head on. I am glad you came back here to share how you are feeling. Going through this without support isn't easy, yet here on BPFamily you will find people who understand and can relate to you.

How long have you been taking those sleeping tablets?

I truley believe that had I been brought up in a validating, loving home instead of the maelstrom that I did, many of these issues would not have occurred, or instead I would have been better equipped to deal with it.

Accepting the past and it's impact on the present and future can be very hard. We have an article here about reality acceptance skills that might help you come to terms with what you have been through while offering you a path forward with some renewed hope for the future. Here is an excerpt:

So what else do you have to do?  You have to do one final thing. You have to accept that life can be worth living, even if really painful events are in your life.

What's that mean?  Well, it means that you have to find a way to not say that life is a catastrophe.

How about if we take an example. You get thrown in jail for a crime you didn't commit.  You are innocent. And now it's gone to the Supreme Court.  And they didn't overturn your conviction. So it's looking like not only are you in jail... .Let's imagine you're in there for something really serious so you're in there for life.  What are your options?

Well, you certainly can not solve that problem.  You're not going to get yourself out of jail. And to be honest, it just doesn't seem to me it's going to be possible that you're going to start being happy that you're an innocent person in jail.  So I think we're going to rule that one out.  So what are your options?

Ok.  You could be miserable, distraught, upset.  You could cry every day for the rest of your life.  Or, you could accept it and figure out a way to build a life worth living inside a prison.

To go from unendurable agony to endurable pain, you're going to have to accept that you can build a life.  Because if you don't accept it, what will happen?  You're not going to build a life. And building a life worth living actually takes a fair amount of work.  Believing that you can't do it makes it almost impossible.  Believing that you can do it makes it a lot easier, so the chances are a lot higher that you'll actually do it - you'll build a life worth living.

So what gets in the way of radical acceptance? Lots of things do. The most common thing that gets in the way is the belief that if you radically accept that means you're approving, you're going to be passive, you're resigned.

People I've worked with, they almost always so this. They say, 'what are you talking about? Me?  Radically accept?  I thought you were trying to teach me to stand up for myself. How could I do that by radically accepting?'

Other people say, 'Are you kidding?  That's the problem with the world.  We accept to much - the world is going to hell in a hand cart and no-one is doing anything about it.'

If you want to change something, you have to accept it first.  You can't change something you don't accept.  If you don't face the reality as it is, if you deny it how are you going to change it?  If you think there is no cause, it just happened magically or fate or luck, how are you going to change it?

So, acceptance is required.

You can read the entire article here:

From suffering to freedom: Practicing reality acceptance

I encourage you to keep posting here as you try to deal with these difficult thoughts and emotions. We are here for you

The Board Parrot

[HeidiLou]

Hi Folks

I think I managed to put this on someones thread, apologies for that, I haven't done much of this, but I think this should be ok.

Been a while since I was here but thought I'd share a poem with you that I wrote about my childhood and my Father's denial...

A Word to my Parents

To my mother I would say 'goodbye'
But to my father I would ask 'why'?

Why turn away, avert your gaze
Cloud the vision, create the haze
You turned your head, refused to see
You closed your eyes, ignored my plea

When you denied the truth, you sealed my fate
I want to love, but I have to hate
It didn't need to be, you had a choice
But you pushed it down, I had no voice

May God forgive you for this act
May He forgive this treacherous pact
In your heart and sole you know you refused
To see the truth; I was abused

You shored her up and towed the line
Surrendered me so you'd be fine

When she said she wished I'd never been born
I had to agree with equal scorn
Born in torture, raised in hell
This was never going to end well

A withdrawn dysfunctional child
Became and adult rejected, reviled
A childhood stolen, a future gone
It didn't matter, I didn't want one

Her projected cruelty, anger and hate
A thirst for pain she couldn't satiate

So here I am alone in the crowd
And even though the world is loud
I doesn't dull the nagging ache
That haunts my day, that haunts my wake

Did she think her pain would be gone
If she simply passed it on?

You feared her, it was plain to see
That fear engulfed your love for me
You would not stand, you could not fight
So you close your eyes and ears tight

You built a wall around the truth and covered it in flowers in bloom
But you cannot deny the sins of old are the elephant in the room

[Kwamina]

I think I managed to put this on someones thread, apologies for that, I haven't done much of this, but I think this should be ok.

Don't worry about it, the Board Parrot fixed it!

It's been a while indeed since you last posted. Thanks for sharing this poem with us. Did you write it recently?

But to my father I would ask 'why'?

Have you ever had a discussion with your father about the 'why' of it all? Reading your poem it seems he never acknowledged the reality of what was going on and how it hurt you. It is very hard growing up like that, with a disordered mother and a father who seemed totally in denial and unwilling or unable to take responsibility. I am very sorry you had these extremely difficult experiences. I hope that expressing yourself this way will help you move through the pain towards a place of continued healing

I want to love, but I have to hate

Is this how you (still) feel now, that you have to hate?

So here I am alone in the crowd

You've reached out here again and I am very happy you did. I hope that participating on this forum will make you feel at least a bit less alone.

[HeidiLou]

No, I never had the conversation with him.  I don't think I will. I don't want excuses or more denial.  If he can look me in the eye and deny that my mother hit me when I was bruised and asking for help, I don't know what he could say now that would be of any benefit. 

There is NO excuse for turning a blind eye to your child being abused.  He was a grown man from a big family, he could have brought in back up if need be, if he was so pitifully afraid of her.  How afraid did he think I felt!  I had no-one.  I had a silver locket as a child and many years ago when I was going through some of the stuff in my old bedroom at their house I opened it, and a tiny scrap of paper fell out.  It said 'I feel like killing myself' in my 7 or 8 year old handwriting, that crunches my heart just remembering.

I guess the line in the poem about 'wanting to love but having to hate' is more metaphorical than literal.  I wanted to love them both, but you can't love those that abuse you.  I idolized him and shut out the knowledge that he knew what was going on. 

I sometimes wonder what they must be thinking, as I said it's the elephant in the room... .

[isilme]

Hello Heidilou,

You said you liked videos when down, so here's something I like to watch:
www.livestream.com/tinykittens/felicity

It's a live stream from a kitty rescue

I had a similar childhood, but mine more often degenerated into just outright neglect - I wore dirty clothes because as a child I did not realize I needed to wash them and myself without an adult telling me when to do so.  I figured it out when I realized I was the source of the odd smell I'd noticed in school, and admit I am now on the OC side of trying to be clean and smell nice - I keep body spray in my desk at work.  They used to both beat me, but I think I failed to hide all the bruises and I remember them going to some sort of therapy at about age 10.  I was left in the waiting room.  By then, the overt hitting slowed, but the emotional abuse, neglect, and parentification was going strong.

Due to the lack of control about my surroundings, I have responded with some fastidiousness about things I could/can control - like the state of my bed (as a kid had springs poking though.  It never occurred to mention it to the parents, I just fixed the situation myself by padding it with extra blankets under the fitted sheet) must be made and clean, etc.  I got to a point where I pretty much never asked for help and if I could not make something work by myself, it just didn't happen, or I figured out another solution. 

This is a good place to discuss things, and overall, you know for certain you are not alone in dealing with recovering from a BPD childhood. 

I eventually had to accept the only way I would be able to heal was to go NC with both parents.  I, too, am afraid I have all the wrong instincts to be a mother myself.

Hope you like the kitties - they just opened their eyes

[HeidiLou]

Thanks for the kittens, they're too cute.   

Your story is so sad.  I sometimes feel there are not words to say how sorry I feel when I read others' experiences.  I get what you mean about just figuring out solutions as a kid.  I used to sneak washing while she was at work and hang it in my wardrobe to dry. 

When I look back I see the ridiculous lengths I would go to to keep things as normal (ha) as possible.  I tiptoed around her, thought about how to stop her flying into a rage.  All pointless of course.  I hated being at home .  I never went home much before 5pm as her rage at not having her 'own space' was so awful.  I walked around the park in the rain one afternoon cos I didn't want to go home.

Finally leaving home and going to uni was the best thing I ever did.  I always feel that I took my first breath of freedom that day and the high lasted about a decade .  I still live 10 mins or so away from my old university and it has some awesome memories.

I was thinking about my mother and the other parents that feature in these threads.  BPD strikes me as and emotional disorder, rather than personality.  My mother can not regulate her emotions internally, and as her mood swings were so chaotic and intense, I believe that she has to mold her environment, through bullying, raging and passive aggressive behaviors.  She needs everything around her controlled into a state that she can cope with.  I am starting to consider that BPD traits are a defense mechanism which assist that person to achieve the perfect environment (one that will not provoke her).  I may be a bit off the mark with that, so if anyone has any ideas about it I'd be interested to hear (read) them.

The road to recover has no signposts, no road markings and no point of reference to gauge where you are.  Eventually though, you notice changes and steadily things stabilize. Having a bad day doesn't mean you have relapsed, as long as the general trajectory is heading to healing then I treat a bad for it is, let it go, have an early night and start again tomorrow.

This is very cheesy - there is a line in a Rocky film, that says something along the lines of 'It's not how hard you can hit, its how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward' - like I say a bit cheesy but a reminder that we survived, bit battered and bruised, but survived all the same x

[isilme]

, I like Rocky.  Most people don't know that Stallone wrote that and many other films.

I like the lyrics from Jimmy Eat World's "The Middle":

Hey
Don't write yourself off yet
It's only in your head you feel left out or looked down on
Just try your best
Try everything you can
And don't you worry what they tell themselves when you're away
It just takes some time
Little girl, you're in the middle of the ride
Everything, everything will be just fine
Everything, everything will be all right
Hey
You know they're all the same
You know you're doing better on your own so don't buy in
Live right now
Just be yourself
It doesn't matter if that's good enough for someone else

I know the first verse is a little dismissive, but I think as an adult, the way others treat you gets to a point where it can only hurt you if you let it. Either ignore them, set clear boundaries, go NC, or whatever you need to do to stop a person from being allowed to hurt you.

I try to not look at things as sad from childhood.  I don't think I'm a horrible person (except when feeling guilty for being NC - I just got married and felt really bad for not feeling safe enough to contact my mother for any of the planning or the process - we eloped for a lot of reasons, but partly so I'd not feel bad about not inviting her or any of my FOO). 

Having to figure life out for myself has made me somewhat useful at work as a troubleshooter, and also I have found I can learn almost anything if I really try.  I think most people can, but have not been forced to do so by life.  I talk about my childhood openly now, just so I can get people past the taboo of acknowledging that some people come from bad homes but aren't bad people.  I went through are few periods of anger and even rage at my parents as I realized just how poorly they did their job, but now, my childhood just is - it's not the same as my friends, it's part of my life, but it's not all of ME. 

[HeidiLou]

They are lovely words.  I think your comment about your childhood as being part of your life but not all of you is very accurate for all of us.  The shame of abuse is palpable, yet so ironic that the recipient carries the guilt and shame.  In my case I was 'responsible' for her unhappiness and I don't think it's a huge leap to associate the abuse with something you are told you are responsible for. 

In my childhood eyes she was unhappy, she didn't want me and blamed me for it.  With so little life experience it's often many years before you can see the bigger picture and realize that it's not your doing.  .

I think her life must have been miserable and it's sad to see a troubled soul who has been robbed of any kind of normal life.  I liken it to dementia; we've probably all know an older relative with or had dementia and they don't know you or seem to be living in the past, but every now and again a tantalizing sliver of the old person comes through.  It's a bit of an odd comparison, I realize that, but the reason I made it was that every now and then a decent person seeps out and just when I think I'm getting somewhere she slips back into her usual self.  I think I gave too much importance to this and was unrealistic thinking that I could harness that side of her and keep it.  That was never going to happen, but I never lost hope that I'd find a way.

Sometimes she has done really nice things for me and that's the hard part.  It would be easier if she was BPD all the time as I feel immense guilt for being horrid about her when she does something nice.  The guilt / shame cycle is always there.  I feel bad for feeling badly about her.  The reason my posts here are sporadic is because of that guilt.  Talking about her as she really is makes me feel disloyal.  As I'm typing this I see how absurd that statement is, but I'm only human after all.

I've decided now to always end on a cheery note.  One of my favorite people on TV is Karl Pilkington, very funny, always has me rolling about laughing.  I don't know where you all are in the world, but Brits (go BREXIT! - Whoop Whoop ) will know him.  For those who don't know him I hope you find him as amusing as I do. 

Oh, and this is totally off topic but Google "is Greenland Really that Big?  It's silly and you'll throw you arms skyward and wonder why you never thought of this before. 

Enjoy, HeidiLou xx

[Kwamina]

Good to hear from you again HeidiLou

It sounds like you've come to some very important insights about your mother and the disorder she's dealing with. These things take time indeed, especially when you are raised in this situation and never knew anything else.

Being able to see what is really going on is a crucial step to then be able to truly start healing yourself. You mention shame and guilt, very powerful emotions, especially when the shame turns into toxic shame. Do you feel like you've been able to find ways to help you better deal with your shame and guilt?

I can very much relate to what you say about the occasional good times and your desire or efforts to try to maintain them forever. Sometimes hope is all we have to keep us going on. Now that you've learned about BPD, this clearly is changing the way you perceive your mother, your childhood and also yourself. There can still be room for hope, the difference is that the hope can now be based on the reality of what we know about BPD. Having realistic expectations is very important as they help us prepare for what might lie ahead.

Getting my story out here for the first time in many ways made me feel just like you, like I was betraying my mother. I hope as you share more of your story here and interact with other members, you will find it easier to discuss these things and feel less like you are betraying your mother. The sad reality is that our own BPD parents betrayed us in the sense that their behavior was a form of abandonment because we did not have a consistently loving parent. It indeed is a disorder though and they did not choose to be this way. Our parents are of course still responsible for their behavior and the choices they make. Fortunately as adults, we can now take responsibility for our own lives and try to make more healthy choices than our parents did/do.

Also great to see that you still have your sense of humor! (Or should I say humour since you're British?  )

The Continental European Board Parrot

[HeidiLou]

Ah yes, those pesky American spellings 

I pounce on my students who don't set their keyboards to English-UK.  My colleagues think it's funny as they don't bother to pick up on it when they are marking students' work, but I'm like a dog with a bone.  I realize [sic] I'm being overly picky and way too uptight about it. Maybe I should work on that   

This leads to a bemusing conversation with my mother once, during which I told her that apparently English is quite a difficult language to learn.  To which she replied;

'well I picked it up easily enough',   hmm... .you might want to think that one through... .

I'm not going to delve into my deep thoughts today, but here's some amusing anecdotes. 

Years ago she had a penfriend in Melbourne.  She had always wanted to go to Australia, so I saw what she was up to.  One day she proudly announced that she was going to Oz to meet her.  Without mentioning it to me or my Dad, (let alone inviting us) and without consulting him, she had spent nearly £1000 out of their savings on a plane ticket.  After returning, she predictably ditched her pen friend (mission accomplished).  Only my mother could fall out with a pen friend - the mind boggles!  She'd come out of an empty room with a black eye!

Oh and I just remembered a real jewel.  On discussing who had invaded Britain through history.  We couldn't remember who the Saxons were.  I thought they were German, only to be corrected (incorrectly) by her saying,

'No, I don't think so, the Germans were never invaders'  erm... .Poland anybody? 

Then I said it was odd that we weren't taught about WW2 in history classes. She agreed stating that, they weren't taught it in history either. To which I replied,

'that's probably because it wasn't really history yet' (born 1942).  Oops, tin hat on, run for cover, he he, couldn't resist

The neighbours wound her up one day saying that the house across the street was going to become a fish and chip shop (takeaway food).  She nearly blew her stack, ranted and raved.  Eventually when she was almost completely purple, breathing fire and poised to start a revolution, they told her it was a joke.  She continued to rage after we got home; yes, about an imaginary chip shop!

A word to the wise - practical jokes are playing with fire.  You can't put the genie back in the bottle!

She came home furious from an appointment with the nurse once because the poor nurse had dared to put her real weight in the medical notes.  Mommy dearest proceeded to shout at her and made her mark it down by a stone (14lbs) saying, 'that's more like it'. 

One last corker.

Now, this will require you to take a leap of faith. 

This really happened.

It needs some context first. I was doing a school project and my friend's dad who was a hairdresser, was asking his customers to complete a survey for me about what hair colours they'd had in the past.

Ok, strap in folks, here it comes... .

Back in the olden days (pre mobile/cell phones) occasionally people received what we termed, a dirty phone call or a heavy breather.  Essentially just some random pervert dialing phone numbers for kicks.

Now, said pervert had the misfortune to call my house.  Upon being asked what colour her pubic hair was; and after deigning him an answer (why?) she proceeded to rage at him and gave him a thorough dressing down for hijacking my school project idea.  I got the full story later and got yelled at too for letting someone steal my idea!

Like I say, you couldn't make this stuff up. 

If you'd like some more, I have a great story about the day she accused me of robbing a bank. That deserves a post of it's own, so if there's any demand for it I'll pop back and tell you all about it.

Thanks for reading my rambling and musings

HeidiLou x

[Kwamina]

Hi HeidiLou,

Thanks for sharing these anecdotes

Looking back it can sometimes really be mind-boggling when we consider the things our parent said and did. Now that we are adults and have learned about BPD, this enables us to see the dysfunction we might not have been able to identify when we were a child. Growing up this way, as unpleasant and confusing as it might be, might still feel normal because it in fact was the norm for us. This was our experience, the only experience we had ever known.

Distorted thinking and perception lead BPD parents to behave in ways that are difficult to understand and unfortunately can also be damaging to children. The sad thing is that their intent does not even necessarily always have to have been to hurt their children, but because of their distorted thinking and perception their actions often unfortunately do end up hurting their children.

Looking back with a little humour and a lot of empathy and compassion (for everyone involved including ourselves), can help in our healing.

Take care