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I never truly understood compassion until our son became ill. And I didn’t learn it by watching him go through his struggles. I learned it by observing how others related to us and our family, including our son. We had friends who we knew, not well but casually, who reached out to us with concern as they watched our struggles.  

And sometimes, it wasn’t the ones who came forward with kind words and actions, but rather the ones who didn’t that taught me the lessons I needed to learn.  Friends or family members who asked about son, but you could tell they wanted the one-word answer. “Fine,” seemed to be quite enough for them as they moved on to a less complicated subject.  

One would think that would be upsetting, but it wasn’t.  I’ve come to realize that some people are unafraid of another person’s pain, and others cannot get far enough away from it. I believe most friends and family members do care, but the word “care” and “compassion” are not synonymous, even though my thesaurus might suggest otherwise. Compassion to me means jumping right into the fray with someone in pain, albeit for a short period of time. And a short period of time is just the right amount, as even the one going through a rough time needs a break.

So my question for anyone reading this is, What have you learned about compassion as the parent of a child with BPD?  Many thanks for your input.

I have learned that there is a lot of shame around mental illness and compassion is rare. If our son had cancer the world would rally round. BPD? Not so much. Sorry. I am not in a good place right now.

Thank you, FHLKC. Your point is so very important and one I had not touched on yet. With my son, the BPD came out in spades when he drank.  Last week, he hit the 8-month in recovery point, which was huge. The BPD is still there, but not nearly as amplified. He's also had DBT and that has helped tremendously. Thanks again for your input.