BPDFamily.com

I have only seen my mother 3 times in 15 years. She was diagnosed with BPD and is an addict. Things got pretty wild when I was a kid. My mom was in a mental hospital when a nurse came to my dad and said "I could lose my job for saying this but get the children away from her as soon as you can." I was 6 or 7. When she got out she ran away with my brother and I from Virginia to Florida. We hid in a trail of lies and madness. Detectives for us and my parents got a divorce. I went to live with my dad and would visit my mom during christmas and summer break. She married a couple more times and had very chaotic relationships fuled with booze and or drugs. She would lash out at me even and yell at me till I was in a ball having a total panic attack. When she was done she would leave the room like nothing happened and never speak of it. I would go numb and dissociate eventually. The back and forth between states after the divorce was very heavy for her yet she really made little effort to be in my life. It was easy to become estranged. She can't take care of herself for long and lives with her brother or mother inbetween the men she gets involved with. Around 8 I was caught self harming and was put on a rotation of ADHD anxiety and depression pills. I hated taking these but was forced to do so. I already felt emense shame and guilt for just existing. Then I was told I had to take pills to be acceptable at school and with my dad and step mom. I was medicated till the pills almost killed me at 17 and I fought to be free of psych meds from inside the mental hospital. I don't know when the pain in my chest started. Seems like it has always been there. I did not know how to tell the adukts that I was experiencing intense physical pain when love should be felt. I still live with this pain. My dad and step mom were much much more stable but lots of damage had already been done and the pills impacted my relationship with them. My mom was a stay at home mom and my dad used to work all the time. Lots of my developmental years spent in my moms world then visitations to keep the trauma going. As a adult I started out totally out of my mind withdrawing from meds totally confused. I became a stripper and got deep into party culture. My mom ended up moving in with me when I was 19. She was addicted to meth at the time. She let a meth head dude move in without even talking to me. I worked at an elementary school as a lunch lady and had 18 credit hours of school. I was trying to stay away from dancing but was the only one with a job. I did an ametur night at a club and lost. My mom suggested we could do a mother daughter show possibly to make money. I was appalled and so frustrated. The next day I told my mom she had to get a job. She said she could pass a drug test and i yelled at her to go work at Taco Bell then. The next day she disappeared along with my all top. She put art I gave her over the years and my childhood pictures by the trash on her way out. She called my dad to tell him I was a stripper and addicted to drugs. I don't even know what I felt at the time but I carried my art and baby pictures to the dumpster. I ended up getting evicted, my car broke and I couldn't get to school anymore. I then went deeper into dancing and party culture. At 21 I was losing it on the brink of ending it. That is when my healing journey started. I took many paths that led no where as I felt my way to help. I am currently in school for trauma release using breathwork and have a therapist I can zoom with when I need to and can afford it. I recently started journaling and practicing inner bonding. I never could journal due to self loathing and lack of connection to myself. I am lookong for support and understanding. Sometimes I feel so scared that I am so flawed that I will die alone. Scared that life will continue to be a long painful journey to the grave. I rely on others love to know my own worth and feel ok. Trying hard to open to my value and worth. To learn to love myself and live my life my passions my dreams. This is really hard. I dream that someday the pain in my heart will go away and the warmth of an open heart will be felt. I also surrender again and again that this may be what it feels like to be me for the rest of my life.

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