I'll post more as soon as I can.  Busy weekend coming up.  Thanks for reading.

I don't remember when the slide started.  When her drinking and abuse of medication intensified.  I really don't remember that moment.  I think it happened like a lot of things:

Slowly, and then all at once.

We looked for a bigger house shortly after our son was born. We found one nearby that she really liked. I had a sinking suspicion why she preferred this particular house. It was 3,000 square feet at the end of a long driveway, surrounded by trees. 

It was big.  It was secluded.  It was the perfect hiding spot.

It wasn't long after we moved in that the descent started.  For me the descent is marked by incidents as much as its marked by feelings.  A change in the atmosphere. The wind began blowing in a different direction.

I could feel things shifting.

Before long my dinner break stopped being just a meal with the family.  As her addiction intensified I began cooking the meals instead of just coming home to eat them.  Then I was cooking and cleaning.  Next I was helping with homework.  By the end I was cooking, cleaning, and getting the kids ready for bed, all while on duty as a police sergeant. 

I was working two thankless jobs at the same time.

J1 was working full-time as a nurse and would return home right before I left for work.  There were days where I'd be waiting on the porch for her to come home so I could rush to work myself.  I can still see it in my mind, her putting the car in park, turning toward the passenger seat, and emerging with the telltale paper bag, clutched tightly at the top. 

Even now, as I'm sitting here picturing this scene, my shoulders slump forward a bit.  Just like they did every day she came home with another bottle of wine.  That mark of quiet resignation.

"Another night I'm without a wife and they're without a mother.  Maybe tomorrow will be better."

Work started to feel like relief.  Home was my workplace. 

I learned to read that house like a crime scene.

My shift as a cop ended at midnight, but there was still a job to do.  Every night was the same scene.  I'd come down our street and as I turned down the driveway I'd catch a glimpse of the bedroom window. 

"Is the light on or off?" 

If it was off that meant she was passed out. If it was on I knew that I was back on duty before I even walked in the door.  She was probably drunk, probably emotional, and probably looking for a fight.

Even the nights when the light was off didn't end peacefully for me.  I'd sit on the couch in the living room and unwind with some TV.  The whole time I'd have an ear tuned into the floorboards above me, waiting for the creak.  The creak meant she was up.  The toilet flushing meant I was safe.  No flush meant we could be in for a long night.

I could hear the sound of the wine fridge from anywhere in the house.  The cabinet where she kept her wine glasses had a certain signature. The sound of the bottle opening.  I could hear her opening up the paper bag with the prescription meds in it.  There was a brief pause in the crinkle of the paper, right before she broke the grip of the staple holding the bag shut.

I knew she was drunk by the sound of her footsteps.  Not an unsteady gait, more like an uncertain one.  Her steps got just a tiny bit heavier.  It was as if she wasn't sure if the earth would still be there when she put her foot down.

One night we attended a birthday party for a childhood friend of my wife.  Friends and family, all people she had known since she was young.  It was getting late, and we had to get home to relieve the babysitter.  J1 was drunk and she didn't want to leave.  I pushed back because I knew:

This night will not end cleanly if she's not in the car with me.

Eventually I relented and went home by myself.  My phone rang a few hours later.  "I want to come home.  Come get me."  She was back at the birthday girl's house.  I was home with the kids, it was the middle of the night.  I urged her to go to bed, to sleep it off.  "No! I want to come home." 

My gut told me that she was coming home one way or the other.

I took the risk of leaving the kids home unattended and went to look for my wife.  Sure enough I found her stumbling along the shoulder of a dark, busy street at 2 am.  Wasted, shoes in her hands. 

I stopped alongside of her, opened the door, and drove her home without saying a word.     

This didn't feel like hypervigilance to me.  No one told me that was a thing.  It just felt like I was really, really good at my job: 

To keep her stable.  To keep her alive.

Thank you, Superdaddy. Interesting suggestion. I will think about it.

This is a year old post I somehow missed but I wanted to add my thoughts.


I recall how my family court and even my Custody Evaluator viewed parenting schedules.  For children up to preteen years both advocated equal time for co-parenting.

Because our child exchanges were places for my ex to play games posing as the aggrieved mother, I wanted exchanges as far apart as possible.  With equal time being discussed and the schedules designed across two weeks, I favored alternating weeks.  My CE, a child psychologist, corrected me.  He said a better schedule for children until at least 10 years old was two exchanges per week and described the 2-2-3 schedule (or 2-2-5-5 across two weeks).  One parent would get Mon-Tue overnights, the other Wed-Thu overnights and they would alternate Fri-Sat-Sun overnights.  I decided the second half of the week would be best for me since then I could review my child's school assignments and be sure they were done each week.

And my lawyer agreed, he asked me whether I wanted the court to think I felt my child didn't need more frequent time with me.  Um, not that!  As it turned out, even when I got majority time during the school year at age 12, we continued with 2-2-3 during summers until he finished school and aged out of the system.

I also advocate for the children to have access to informed school counselors.  Plus my son had regular counseling sessions until he was 12, starting at age 3 with play therapy.

On the one hand, it is sad when children have two homes.  On the other hand, it allows the children to have at least part of their lives in a reasonably normal home environment.  It would be so helpful when they choose their own adult relationships.


You do have a right to reconsider past decisions and promises.  Possibly even marital vows, though of course that is a decision not to be taken lightly.  A major factor is the impact of the negativity, conflict, disrespect and discord.  When one spouse is working against the other spouse, it can reach a point where all options are on the table, even ones previously rejected outright.

GratefulDad made an excellent point. Counseling for our own benefit is so important and we may have to seek out one who has approaches to fit our needs.

I failed to mention that in my earlier post here.  My bad.  But my post later that day to another member did highlight the value of working on ourselves.

To add- your anger, frustration at the NHS, is real and valid. I wasn't as much angry at the medical providers but I didn't understand why my father didn't have my BPD mother hospitalized.

My feelings towards my father were mixed. On one hand, I was very attached to him, and credit him for our well being and for being our most stable parent. I also understood he was dealing with a difficult situation. In addition, I didn't understand why he seemed to allow and enable BPD mother's behaviot. I had an idea of what should have been done and why didn't he do it, similarly like you feel about the NHS not doing what should have been done.

That was until BPD mother's elder years when I did have input with the POA. I spoke with her medical team, her caregivers, the hospital staff when she was there, the assisted living and nursing home staff and when it came down to it- no matter what the plan, if she didn't agree to it or cooperate, nobody could do much for her. I think my father probably tried as well, but he couldn't do much either.

Her behavior also wasn't as apparent to health care providers when she was living on her own at home. BPD mother could present well in the office during a visit. It was when she needed assistance and had caregivers, was in assisted living, who were with her for long hours that they saw the bigger picture.

The gap in assisted living and nursing home care here is that it is based on a person's physical need for assistance in daily tasks, like dressing, bathing, eating. BPD mother did not need as much assistance in these tasks but emotionally, she needed more supervision than she qualified for.

For me, working through the anger and frustration at what I thought wasn't doing enough for her was a process, a process you also will be working through. However this goes, I think it's important to have some boundaries on what you can do, are willing to do, and also how to protect your own emotional well being.

I will share two sources that illustrate the dilemma.
https://bpdfamily.com/message_board/index.php?topic=65164.0;all

This exerpt from a book- not exactly the same situation but similar dynamics and the daughter's sadness and frustration.

https://slate.com/technology/2022/03/mentally-ill-parent-elder-care-boundaries-liz-scheier.html

I don't suggest you "let go" or not try- I think in trying, we learn what we can do and what seems out of our control.

Hey AaronP, I relate so much to your situation. It stinks man and I m ow how much it hurts and brings you down. Nowadays the anger outburst don’t bother me as much as the nearly constant demeaning, belittling, and condescending rhetoric; I feel that she wants me to feel the way she does on the inside. To be clear she is deeply traumatized but it’s hard to be empathetic to that when she’s attacking you. I’ve had numerous therapist over the years, most encouraging me to set boundaries or leave the marriage which did little to help. I felt the same that it was usually a pathetic venting with no progress and I often left without much hope. Acceptance at the best. About a year ago, however I found a new therapist and it has made a huge difference. He has me working on myself, not dealing with BPD, not the relationship but improving my self confidence, dealing with my emotions and stressors, and getting to a place where I feel safe regardless of my external circumstances. It’s not perfect but it’s better. My wife’s behavior still affects me and it’s still hard but that’s secondary to me working on my mental health. I guess my advice is this, find a therapist that understands BPD but wants to work on you first. My therapist works at a group that specializes in DBT and he specializes in therapy for men within that group. I’m commenting here today because he’s encouraged me to get my feelings out (its been a particularly tough past few days) and this is a group has a lot of folks that can relate to you, offer encouragement and be a safe place. Hang in there man.

This is similar to my BPD mother- she had mental health- they couldn't do much for her. Like you, I also tried to speak to one of her mental health doctors but he refused to speak with me, due to pricacy laws.

Before the medicines were registed on computer and regulated, my BPD mother also would get them from several doctors, none of them knowing about each other. I told her general practice doctor about it, but he wasn't able to say much to me about it due to privacy laws at the time.

Some time later, once the medicines were regulated, he was able to see what was going on and that is when he put her in rehab. She was uncooperative there and signed herself out AMA. (against medical advice).

Here, in the US, it seems our mental health system is lacking in ways and so is the care for the elderly. Like your mother, my mother did not have a lot of physical needs but her emotional needs were very high. In addition, she could "pull herself together" when being evaluated and appear completely normal to providers and so she remained legally competent.

If someone is legally competent, health care providers are limited in what they can do for them if the patient doesn't choose to cooperate with them. Also, if a patient is not compliant with the care plan- the providers can choose to not treat them, and also insurance won't cover it. Before I had the POA, I wasn't in contact with my mother's providers but in her later years, I was- and so could see this side of things. BPD mother's behavior was a challenge to her heath care providers, but with her being legally competent, their ability to help her in this situation was limited.

Even with suicide threats, they can not hold a person against their will for long if that person is legally competent and appears intact and not suicidal when they evaluate them.

I wish I had helpful advice for you in terms of a positive change for your mother, but the reality for me was that, as much as I wished there was some way to help my mother, change things for us as a family- there wasn't anything that could change her own self will. She was going to make her own choices. We didn't want her to harm herself but it wasn't possible to watch her all the time, or have her in a situation where she was watched all the time. We cared about her well being- as you care for your mother's too. But that didn't stop my mother from her own choices.

My best advice for you is to focus on your own well being in this. It's a difficult situation. I did counseling and 12 step ACA groups. These were very helpful. I think as adult children- in our family systems, we feel responsible for our BPD mothers' feelings and well being, but in actuality, we don't have that much control.

I don't suggest being detached from your mother all together. I didn't want that and it would have been impossible to not have feelings about her situation. I wish there was some resource to help her but even if there was- she'd have to choose it and cooperate with it. Even in "normal" situations, the advice to family members who have a part in care for an elderly parent- whether it's direct or indirect- is self care to avoid burn out. Taking care of yourself and having "time out" is helpful.

Mental health help is a mess in my country, they've been dealing with her for decades and even given her electrode therapy when I was a kid. She had a crisis care team after my dad died and she spiralled but because she's always difficult and won't agree to get involved in volunteering etc, they would just stop bothering with her after a handful of sessions and then she'd be left to her own devices again.
Her doctors surgery is literally across from her house and they just seem to pally with her to actually see whats really going on! They know she gets suicidal as she went in there crying that she was suicidal once, during COVID she had to leave messages on their answerphone to get her Lorazepam prescribed and my mum realised that she could get away with ordering prescriptions more often than she was supposed to! She would use different chemists so she didn't realise suspicion and she went through a phase of over using Lorazepams and washing them down with wine! I had to contact her surgery and ask them to watch what they were prescribing because they were unknowingly over prescribing to her! My mum then became puzzled when she suddenly couldn't get as many prescriptions anymore! I told them about BPD then and they've done nothing in the years since. I live 36 miles from her, she pushes my brother away who also often works away, I've said to the doctors before that we can't watch what she does or safeguard her! She could carry out her threat to take the pills she's claimed she's stockpiled at anytime after be lying dead. The NHS don't help us and have actually refused to even speak to us as her family about her mental health even when the police and ambulance had to go to her home because she put a suicide note through my brothers door one time! They were reluctant to even tell me if she was sectioned or still at her home, they didn't section her even though at that point she told them that she was going to give herself and her dog and overdose on her pills! It's crazy!

(I'll post more soon.  Thanks for reading.  Good night.)