BPDFamily.com

I think one of the hardest things about having a parent with undiagnosed, high functioning BPD is that myself and my sister will never get to have answers nor validation from our mother or those close to her.  We, first, had to live through the effects of the behaviours of our mother's symptoms (including a non-exhaustive list of abuse), and then were told that they were our fault, and to top it all off, we were prevented from having a name / diagnosis for our mother's symptoms on which to base therapy / healthy coping skills... not even validation from a doctor or other adult that she was, indeed, experiencing symptoms.  For my mother, she became very good at hiding her symptoms from others, and explaining away her behaviours... she's very intelligent and high functioning.  To the best of my knowledge, she has never been willing or able to acknowledge her symptoms and behaviours, let alone discuss them with a doctor.  I've never witnessed her accepting onus for her words, behaviours, thoughts, feelings.  At all times, denial, lashing out, and gaslighting have been her go-to responses to honest attempts at clarity and self-protection on our parts.

Our aunt, her sister, also shows signs of the same condition.  Our relatives all deny, deny, deny... chalking behaviours and symptoms up to "just not feeling well", or "having a bad day", or some other phrasing, despite severe abuses.  For both sisters, there are also signs that there may be other co-existing conditions, and my mother did, at least, get a diagnosis of depression, however (and not to minimize depression), her symptoms far exceed depression.

I feel as though I live in a constant state of questioning.  What exactly would my mother's diagnosis be if she could get one?  Have any other adults known that she was unwell but not said anything?  Did anyone make attempts to get my sister and I to safety that I didn't hear about?  How could those who support / enable her, indeed support / enable her?  Can't anyone else see that she is an abuser?  Does she know that she has a condition and has knowingly kept it from us?  Has she gone for therapy?  Is she completely unaware?  Are there others (children / adults) out there that she has also abused?  What other stories has she made up to cover it up?  Does she still tell them (I stopped all contact years ago)?  How can the adults who have lived with us / her not seen clearly what she does?  How is it possible?  The questions swirl around and around in my head, and have been for decades.  More come up all the time.  I don't think I'll ever have answers to these, and I feel that it prevents me from healing more than I have been able to so far.

I need to go to bed soon, and these have been swirling around in my head for hours, so I thought I'd come on the message board to get them out.  I'm sure that there are others, here, who share a similar challenge.  Thanks for being here.  I am so grateful to the others on the BPD message boards... I appreciate the shared information and frustrations.  I appreciate the venue.  Okay, I'm going to attempt to pack it in for the evening, now.

Honestly? When my mother admitted to me that she had BPD or was anti- climactic. That was 3 years ago, when I was 44.

When I was 17 and she had her major breakdown, she told me about her depression. She came into my room one day, gave me her bottle of Prozac and told me to hide it because she didn't like how it made her feel.  I dutifully hid it, contemplating popping a few pills myself,  but I didn't do so.  Talk about Parentification...

I had already graduated high school and the following fall moved out on my 18th birthday.  She got worse, but I won't hijack detailing it.  She later told me she went through 7 therapists until she found one she trusted. 

When she was living with me and my kids 3 years ago, she revealed that when I was little that she had been seeing a therapist for her PTSD. I thought,  "how much worse would my childhood have been without that therapy!"

As one of my teenage buddies later put it, "your mom was crazy." The mom of my BFF was a lighthouse to me in my teen years; subtly, yet significantly.  She didn't really know what I was going through, but she profiled my mother.  My teachers in high school knew something was "up" though they never asked me explicitly. 

In summary: I left my mom in 1989, LC. Some saw her for who she was, many didn't and she got herself into trouble from which I rescued her several times.  Thankfully, we had no family close to guilt me,  that is very hard to deal with. 

I share some of these feelings and experiences.  I, too, have spent much of my childhood puzzling over my parent’s behavior.  I witnessed abuse, especially of my sister.  I couldn’t understand their interactions as a child.  Why did they interact like that?  I was very sure that I didn’t want to be part of that kind of relationship. 

My unacceptable (to me) reaction to a loved ones difficulty and my inability to fix their heart and head and life circumstances, my reading here, (and recommended readings) resulted in discussions with my sister.  Hearing her version of some of our childhood experiences shifted something in me.  I have been working (mostly on my own and here) for over a year.  I have been inwardly working very hard, which I am aware displays as odd behavior.  I don’t recall receiving apologies or explanations from my mother for abusive behavior as a young child.  Long ago I accepted that I will not have an accurate explanation.  The physical behaviors stopped.  Questions would not be answered.  I knew not to expect accurate answers, so I gave up on that.

This process has cracked me.  I have hopefully hit my personal bottom, and am changing direction.  I have had a diagnosis of depression, PTSD, bipolar disorder for years.   I am pretty sure that I am about to be diagnosed with BPD myself.  This grieves me.  It is what it is.  I have worked so hard for so long, and I have been scared and appalled by the pain I have inflicted on people I love and on myself while I’ve been wrestling with this.

While internally wrestling with this over the past year and a half specifically, I have emotionally ‘leaked’ onto kind, caring people.  That is so inappropriate.