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I am feeling many feelings right now, most of which I have identified and listed to myself. But the most overwhelming feeling is: defeat.

My mother. Even saying those two words makes me feel so sick. In addition to her undiagnosed BPD, as she exhibits most  traits thereof, she is also a religious zealot. I care nothing for religion, she knows this, yet continues to deliver underhanded assaults at me regarding my lifestyle.

A bit of background information: Eldest sister in a family of 7 children. Parents fought almost every day while we were children, being physically and verbally abusive to one another.

Mother was extremely physically, verbally, and emotionally abusive towards us. We were terrified of her. We also often felt great compassion for her, as she was a stay-at-home mom, and would often wail and weep over her abusive husbands atrocities towards her. Oftentimes during their fights, we would intervene and get thrown aside or even asked: "who do you think started it?"

Just a lot of crap like that. Threats when we were "bad" that they were giving us up for adoption. Every time a car pulled up in front of our house, I remember the terror I'd feel that some strangers were coming to take us away.  I had a bed-wetting problem as a toddler all the way until I was in grade 2-ish. She would beat me for wetting my bed. My mom loved hating on me. I think it was because my father doted on me. Also because I was a girl, and was  being groomed to be a good wife one day for her nephew. I was never good enough. She would often tell me that no man was going to want me. To a child. She would call me a whore, that I was going to bed many men. When I was 12. Because I started talking back, realizing she was abusing us.  

Ugh. That's when they decided to send me to an all-girls seminary run by a puritan muslim cult in the 90's in the US. To the trash went academics, again, the focus was to be groomed to be a wife and child bearer.

At 19 they, for lack of better words, forced me to marry my mother's nephew in a foreign land. Upon my return home to Canada and learning that I was going to leave home and seek a divorce, they resolved to obtain the divorce for me (I was a 20-year old with the mind of a 12-year old, having been sheltered in the closed system of the seminary for 7 years, where we had zero outlets to the outside world. They encouraged me to immerse myself in the academics that I had missed over the past 7 years.

My mother has since been wracked with guilt. (My social and academic growth were seriously stunted).  She has expressed not knowing how to love unconditionally. She has expressed regret over not having left my father. During the years following, I capitalized on this guilt. My mother indulged me. Gucci and Louis Vuitton bags, clothes, paying off my over-racked credit cards... .

In my late twenties I realized I don't care for religion. So did my youngest sister, with whom I am very close. I began to travel, stopped wearing a headscarf, lived on my own overseas, tried to start developing a sense of self independent of my mother. I had failed my second year of university and wanted to expand my horizons.

I would always return home though, as money was always tight. When things got really bad, I would move out or camp out a few nights with a friend.

I went back to university and in my last year my mother was diagnosed with stage 2B aggressive breast cancer which had metastasized to her lymph nodes. Her treatment was extremely rough, and she almost died halfway into her chemotherapy. During her darkest days, she would tell me that she will feel and get better if I became a practising Muslim again. Seeing her so sick was horrifying and terrifying. These kinds of comments made it even more difficult, as I felt guilty, like I had caused her cancer.

And maybe we had. Had we children acted like adults, contributed to the household income instead of leeching off our parents, my mother would not have had to work like a dog to provide for her mostly adult children. I know it was the two jobs that my mother was working that caused her to become so ill. I didn't know any better at the time. I was lost, selfish, angry over seminary where I had been denied an education and molested by a teacher, didn't know who I was, rarely thought of implications of my actions.

Today I am 33. I hold two university degrees and am working in my field. I love my work. I have gone through a year's worth of therapy after I attempted suicide 3 years ago and am constantly trying to keep my life balanced, knowing what stress can do. I am medicated for depression, premenstrual dysphoria, and anxiety and base my life decisions around the management of these disorders.

Everything is going relatively well in my life. Except for recently... .my mother had some sort of surgery a couple of weeks ago. I do not know because she did not tell me when it was going to happen. I think she mentioned it in passing in a conversation, and I made a mental note to take the day off for it, but then I didn't follow up. It is my fault I didn't follow up. Talking to my mother stresses me out to the point that I wish I just didn't exist so that I would not have to deal with her. One day she came over to my place to give me the third degree about if I was dating (forbidden) and if so whom, and whether I really was never going to get married, and if I did to please make sure I married a Muslim, and some other like nonsense. Other times she calls to inquire about the doings and happenings surrounding my younger sister, whom she describes as a "sex slave" (not sure What the heck that is supposed to mean, but its linked to her repulsion of human sexuality). I am so sick and tired of her that I just don't want to talk to her.

After her surgery she called and left very aggressive and emotionally abusive messages in which she gaslighted galore. I tried apologizing for not having known about the surgery and explaining that even if I had known, that I was affected with 3 different kinds of viruses myself (being a teacher and being constantly stressed by family I am almost always sick) and would not be able to visit her for her own good. Now I learn that she is leaving the country for a few months in 3 days... .and i don't feel like going to see her to say goodbye. I've almost ceased to care. I just don't want to deal with her. And I feel horrible and don't know what to do

Hello Spinosaurus,

You have a tremendous amount of strength to fight to break free from so many inertial points that were taken to the extremes: familial, religious, cultural. My Ex struggled with the first and the last: Parents, especially the patriarch, is always right and never defied. Her mother is a Hermit-Waif, who not only put too much responsibility on her for her siblings, but similar to your story, the guilt.

Growing up in an abusive household where the family is taught to stuff their feelings is damaging. I'm sorry that you had to endure that, and involving a child in the emtional matters of an adult was unacceptable. She was the adult; you were the child, and you deserved to be protected. You were not, and still aren't, responsible for her feelings.

It sounds like she was for a brief while aware of herself, and maybe this is a blade of grass in an otherwise fallow field that you might be able to validate in the future. However, she retreated into the same dysfunctional coping mechanisms that she developed to survive: Projection, Compartmentalization. Shame, turned out awards.

BPD BEHAVIORS: Waif, Hermit, Queen, and Witch (https://bpdfamily.com/message_board/index.php?topic=61982)

Stripping away cultural and religious issues, she's still your mother, the only one, and it's natural that despite everything, you want to say goodbye. Honoring our patents is the right thing to do, but our own personal boundaries are important as well, not to be continued to e abused, rmotionally or otherwise. You know who she is, she's shown you her whole life.

Personally, I would feel ambivalent as well, especially if she's not on her literal death-bed. A boundary might be to say goodbye, and iterate that you'll call her after you arrive and settle in. Define the contact schedule, and stick to it, regardless of whatever FOG (https://bpdfamily.com/content/emotional-blackmail-fear-obligation-and-guilt-fog) she throws your way. What do you think?

Turkish