In Therapy

[Our abuse recovery guide]

Hi.  As some here know, I recently, as in three weeks ago, switched Ts.  This new T, whom I will call MG, was the supervisor of my former T that I worked with for about a year.  So she knows my story.  I've been adjusting fairly well to the change though there is still anxiety surrounding the change and the fact that she is female.  We talked about it and she reassured me that she could handle any issue I bring up regarding her being a woman.  I believe her when she says we can discuss anything.  All in all, I would say therapy is going well. 

So anyway, at one point in a session, I asked her for a label for my mother.  I've always known that BPD was not a perfect fit for my mother, but it was enough of a fit that it gave me a jumping off point to put things into a more workable context.  MG initially was not willing to give a diagnosis (just like my previous T) saying she could not based just on my reports but that she was definitely mentally ill and that some of her behavior could be called evil.  She also said that my mother would have been put in jail if ever DCYF had investigated but given the times (I am 51) and the fact that we as a family were so isolated, we fell through the cracks (I am definitely paraphrasing here).  It was sobering to hear her say my mother would have been in jail.

Hearing MG use the word evil took me by surprise.  We talked about it a bit.  I had a hard time seeing it because in my mind, evil implies premeditation, intent to harm, and deliberately choosing to do the opposite of good, healthy, loving, etc.  I sounded like I was trying to defend my mother and excuse her and MG called me on it.  I am glad she did because it really got me thinking about *why* I felt the way I do (that my mother actually loved me and thought she was doing all the right things) rather than get all defensive because I do not want to still be clinging to the fantasy of the ideal mother.

So this week, on Tuesday, we talked about it some more in session.  At one point I was quiet by remembering some incidents from my childhood.  MG asked me what was going on and I was, thankfully, able to think clearly enough to talk and not get defensive.

I told her that I remember seeing what I can only call an evil look in my mother's eyes on several occasions.  The kind of look that instills a cold, deep and chilling fear, one that steals your breath away and freezes you for a second or so.  I wanted MG to know that I was not disputing her use of the word evil the previous week.  I then told her that I could clearly see the fear and hurt on my mothers face and that she truly did fear me.  I got silent then and MG asked me what was going because she was pretty sure I was watching a film in my head.  Score! for MG!

I described the 'film'.  It was one of the times where I had done something wrong and my mother decided to give me the silent treatment and not just that but she moved into the unheated and mostly unfurnished basement and lived down there for months.  This particular film had me at about 11 yrs old.  I would have to sometimes go in the basement to do laundry and my mother would be right there on the smelly, ripped up old couch, shrinking away from me protectively as I walked past, cringing in fear until I went back upstairs.  She would have to go upstairs to use the bathroom sometimes but she avoided that a lot by peeing in jars if she knew I was around.

My mother was actually scared and absolutely convinced she had a right to be.  This goes beyond projection... .there was no frantic effort to deny what she feared in her own self and push it off on me.  She actually believed she had a reason to fear me.  This also went beyond gaslighting.  She believed it was true and her belief, her reinforcing behaviors and previous numerous and similar incidents convinced *me* that she had a reason to be scared of me.  It wasn't defensive behavior stemming from denial, it was defensive behavior stemming from her reality.

I had never told my former T about these sorts of events.  I don't think I have ever told anyone really.  They just never came up.

Based on that story and a little more info, MG stated that she took back what she said about my mother being evil, that she was mistaken (another Score! for MG-- I don't care if someone makes a mistake, but I do care if they can admit it).  She instead said that my mother was very seriously mentally ill and that she should have been in a psychiatric facility.  We talked some more and then she suggested that I do some research on schizophrenia, and specifically delusions and paranoia in schizophrenia.

What a freakin' revelation!  I still think my mother had aspects of BPD, but schizophrenia fits as well.  They sometimes occur together, and the both of them together work quite well in the case of my mother.

Hearing MG mention this new label (again, not an official diagnosis, but... .!) made so many more pieces of the puzzle fall into place.  Specifically her mentioning delusions.  I remember reading about schizophrenia (sz) before, but the examples of delusions given involved things like thinking you are a Queen who is in hiding etc.  I never read about delusions and paranoia involving ones own kid, thinking they are possessed by demons, are trying to kill you etc.

I feel like i can put down my boxing gloves now, at least in terms of trying to convince people that my mother truly loved me and was convinced she was doing the right things to raise me and with the rest of my family.  I no longer feel the need to shout to others that "Yes, *I* know (now at least) that is all crazy and it is not love in a healthy sense, I agree, but MY MOTHER believed every last bit of it". 

I felt loved as a kid, and always did.  I have said before that one of the things that helped me survive and added to my resiliency was the knowledge that my mother loved me which seemed so impossible given the emotional, mental, sexual abuse.  I was not fully aware of this, but I thought I was crazy for feeling loved all these years.  I felt defective and wrong and insane myself. 

Having a new label and being validated that what I believed about how my mother viewed her own behavior in some ways makes no difference at all but in others, wow... .what a difference a label can make in my perspective of my mother, my family and most importantly, my Self.

[Harri]

Hi.  As some here know, I recently, as in three weeks ago, switched Ts.  This new T, whom I will call MG, was the supervisor of my former T that I worked with for about a year.  So she knows my story.  I've been adjusting fairly well to the change though there is still anxiety surrounding the change and the fact that she is female.  We talked about it and she reassured me that she could handle any issue I bring up regarding her being a woman.  I believe her when she says we can discuss anything.  All in all, I would say therapy is going well. 

So anyway, at one point in a session, I asked her for a label for my mother.  I've always known that BPD was not a perfect fit for my mother, but it was enough of a fit that it gave me a jumping off point to put things into a more workable context.  MG initially was not willing to give a diagnosis (just like my previous T) saying she could not based just on my reports but that she was definitely mentally ill and that some of her behavior could be called evil.  She also said that my mother would have been put in jail if ever DCYF had investigated but given the times (I am 51) and the fact that we as a family were so isolated, we fell through the cracks (I am definitely paraphrasing here).  It was sobering to hear her say my mother would have been in jail.

Hearing MG use the word evil took me by surprise.  We talked about it a bit.  I had a hard time seeing it because in my mind, evil implies premeditation, intent to harm, and deliberately choosing to do the opposite of good, healthy, loving, etc.  I sounded like I was trying to defend my mother and excuse her and MG called me on it.  I am glad she did because it really got me thinking about *why* I felt the way I do (that my mother actually loved me and thought she was doing all the right things) rather than get all defensive because I do not want to still be clinging to the fantasy of the ideal mother.

So this week, on Tuesday, we talked about it some more in session.  At one point I was quiet by remembering some incidents from my childhood.  MG asked me what was going on and I was, thankfully, able to think clearly enough to talk and not get defensive.

I told her that I remember seeing what I can only call an evil look in my mother's eyes on several occasions.  The kind of look that instills a cold, deep and chilling fear, one that steals your breath away and freezes you for a second or so.  I wanted MG to know that I was not disputing her use of the word evil the previous week.  I then told her that I could clearly see the fear and hurt on my mothers face and that she truly did fear me.  I got silent then and MG asked me what was going because she was pretty sure I was watching a film in my head.  Score! for MG!

I described the 'film'.  It was one of the times where I had done something wrong and my mother decided to give me the silent treatment and not just that but she moved into the unheated and mostly unfurnished basement and lived down there for months.  This particular film had me at about 11 yrs old.  I would have to sometimes go in the basement to do laundry and my mother would be right there on the smelly, ripped up old couch, shrinking away from me protectively as I walked past, cringing in fear until I went back upstairs.  She would have to go upstairs to use the bathroom sometimes but she avoided that a lot by peeing in jars if she knew I was around.

My mother was actually scared and absolutely convinced she had a right to be.  This goes beyond projection... .there was no frantic effort to deny what she feared in her own self and push it off on me.  She actually believed she had a reason to fear me.  This also went beyond gaslighting.  She believed it was true and her belief, her reinforcing behaviors and previous numerous and similar incidents convinced *me* that she had a reason to be scared of me.  It wasn't defensive behavior stemming from denial, it was defensive behavior stemming from her reality.

I had never told my former T about these sorts of events.  I don't think I have ever told anyone really.  They just never came up.

Based on that story and a little more info, MG stated that she took back what she said about my mother being evil, that she was mistaken (another Score! for MG-- I don't care if someone makes a mistake, but I do care if they can admit it).  She instead said that my mother was very seriously mentally ill and that she should have been in a psychiatric facility.  We talked some more and then she suggested that I do some research on schizophrenia, and specifically delusions and paranoia in schizophrenia.

What a freakin' revelation!  I still think my mother had aspects of BPD, but schizophrenia fits as well.  They sometimes occur together, and the both of them together work quite well in the case of my mother.

Hearing MG mention this new label (again, not an official diagnosis, but... .!) made so many more pieces of the puzzle fall into place.  Specifically her mentioning delusions.  I remember reading about schizophrenia (sz) before, but the examples of delusions given involved things like thinking you are a Queen who is in hiding etc.  I never read about delusions and paranoia involving ones own kid, thinking they are possessed by demons, are trying to kill you etc.

I feel like i can put down my boxing gloves now, at least in terms of trying to convince people that my mother truly loved me and was convinced she was doing the right things to raise me and with the rest of my family.  I no longer feel the need to shout to others that "Yes, *I* know (now at least) that is all crazy and it is not love in a healthy sense, I agree, but MY MOTHER believed every last bit of it". 

I felt loved as a kid, and always did.  I have said before that one of the things that helped me survive and added to my resiliency was the knowledge that my mother loved me which seemed so impossible given the emotional, mental, sexual abuse.  I was not fully aware of this, but I thought I was crazy for feeling loved all these years.  I felt defective and wrong and insane myself. 

Having a new label and being validated that what I believed about how my mother viewed her own behavior in some ways makes no difference at all but in others, wow... .what a difference a label can make in my perspective of my mother, my family and most importantly, my Self.

[Turkish]

I felt loved as a kid, and always did

You felt this way... .yet you've also detailed some horrific abuse which no child should ever have to bear, and by what you've described previously,  is the complete opposite of love.  Is this what keeps you stuck, trying to reconcile diametrically opposed feelings?

T

[Harri]

Hi Turkish.  It is possible that I have been stuck trying to reconcile the love and the hate that I felt from my mother and felt towards her.  I know I am twisted up in my thinking on this.  My thoughts flit about when I try to focus on this question... .

I keep reading peoples stories here trying to figure out what makes people stay or non parents to say the BPD parent is a good parent or that they love the kids as if that makes a damn bit of difference when it comes to being a good parent.  I have been trying to understand my situation and hoping I could find some kind of answer.

I still believe my mother loved me but the love was filtered through her mental illness(es) and was twisted and hurtful.  I also believe my mother hated and feared me and that too was filtered through her mental illness(es).  Can I logically deny her love but accept her hate and fear of me?  Yes, diametrically opposed feelings yet they are not mutually exclusive.  Or are they?  Life with her was one of extremes, an unsustainable way to exist and remain sane.

If her love was 100% real to her, it was real to me. 
If her hate and fear was 100% real to her, it was real to me.

She believed it all.

I internalized it all. 

[Kwamina]

Thanks for the update Harri

My mother was actually scared and absolutely convinced she had a right to be.  This goes beyond projection... .there was no frantic effort to deny what she feared in her own self and push it off on me.  She actually believed she had a reason to fear me.  This also went beyond gaslighting.  She believed it was true and her belief, her reinforcing behaviors and previous numerous and similar incidents convinced *me* that she had a reason to be scared of me.  It wasn't defensive behavior stemming from denial, it was defensive behavior stemming from her reality.

No matter the label placed on your mother, I think we can say that the following was true about her:
- Her perception of reality was severely distorted
- Her thinking was severely distorted
- Her feelings were not based in reality but in her distorted perception of reality
- Her extreme feelings were a result of her distorted thinking
- She suffered from extreme emotional reasoning --> her feeling were facts to her
- Her behavior was not a reaction to reality, but only a reaction to her distorted perception of reality

Hearing MG mention this new label (again, not an official diagnosis, but... .!) made so many more pieces of the puzzle fall into place.
... .
Having a new label and being validated that what I believed about how my mother viewed her own behavior in some ways makes no difference at all but in others, wow... .what a difference a label can make in my perspective of my mother, my family and most importantly, my Self.

I think the good thing about labels and concepts can be that they can guide our thinking process and sometimes give us the language to talk about things we otherwise might find very difficult to describe. What specifically has now changed the most in your perception of Self?

If her love was 100% real to her, it was real to me.  
If her hate and fear was 100% real to her, it was real to me.

She believed it all.

I internalized it all.  

Something just came into my mind... .did your mother ever tell you that she loved you? Did she ever put those feelings into words? And if she did, at what times did she say that and did hearing her say that also make you feel loved?

[Harri]

Hello Kwamina.

What specifically has now changed the most in your perception of Self?

Well, that is a good question.  I know I feel differently, almost relieved.  I've been wondering what it was about me that caused her to do the things she did to me.  Thinking that a different child would have seen through it all, a child less naive and compliant than I was.  I've been feeling like I was a very dumb kid to have bought into her lies, that I should have been able to tell and I have been working very hard to just accept that I was the way I was as a kid.  I've made progress, but this feeling of being stupid has haunted me (to borrow a phrase from Turkish). 

But the SZ label helps with all of that because she actually believed everything so of course it seemed real to me and made sense... .
With the BPD label, the behaviors and distortions only fit up to a point.  A lot of my stories are so different from others here and I figured the reason why was because of me and I had labeled my mother BSC (bat sh*t crazy) to explain the bits that don't fit in the BPD label.

Having a hard time finding the words.  I guess the label is helping me to take an even gentler view of myself.  All of this is stuff I have been struggling with for a long time and I just felt such a sense of relief to hear that label.  I feel even less responsible.  Yes, cognitively I know I was not responsible when I was a kid, but as you know, the emotions are entirely different.  The label helps me **feel** less responsible, hence the relief.

Does that make sense?  Are you seeing flawed logic here?  anyone?  Challenge me to look at this more if needed.

Something just came into my mind... .did your mother ever tell you that she loved you? Did she ever put those feelings into words? And if she did, at what times did she say that and did hearing her say that also make you feel loved?

She said she loved me all the time.  My brain sort of exploded when I first read this paragraph (thanks so much Parrot! )  She would say it when she was berating me, touching me, manipulating me telling me how much she loved me and how difficult I was making it for her.  How disappointed she was in me, but she still loved me.

It was incorporated into the abuse and manipulation and distortions.

Please follow up with the rest of your thoughts here.  I think I may know where you are going, but I think I need some help getting there.  I know for sure I would like some company.
 

[Kwamina]

Does that make sense?  Are you seeing flawed logic here?  anyone?  Challenge me to look at this more if needed.

I think I understand where you are coming from. This new SZ label for your mother, helps you make more sense of your past reality. The label helps with answering questions like how did things come to be this way, why did I think, feel and behave the way I did and why did my mother think, feel and behave the way she did. You could perhaps say that this new or additional label gives you a better framework to model your experiences. A better model of your past reality. Would you say this is accurate?

She said she loved me all the time.  My brain sort of exploded when I first read this paragraph (thanks so much Parrot! )

You're welcome!

She would say it when she was berating me, touching me, manipulating me telling me how much she loved me and how difficult I was making it for her.  How disappointed she was in me, but she still loved me.

So basically her verbal expressions of love were part and parcel of her abusive and not-loving behaviors. This paradox can be quite confusing for a child, for how can someone love us and hurt us at the same time?

Please follow up with the rest of your thoughts here.  I think I may know where you are going, but I think I need some help getting there.  I know for sure I would like some company.

Well I was thinking about how the topic of love had become manifest in your life with your parents. You believed your mother loved you which I think is true for many children even when their mother is abusive because just the thought of your mother not loving you can feel like destruction and total abandonment.

Her verbal expressions of love were basically to accompany (and justify) abusive behaviors. Were there perhaps times or things she did that you then and/or now consider to be acts of love? Moments in which she may not have verbally expressed love but yet through her behavior the love shone through? I guess where I'm getting at is, looking back, can you think of moments that you feel like your mother was actually being kind to you and acting in what you now consider a loving manner?

[Harri]

Thanks for coming back to the Kwamina. 

Yes, I think you understand why the label of SZ is so freeing for me.  As I have let things sink in, I am wondering if perhaps I am too relieved hoping that I can blame all of my distorted thoughts and beliefs on my mothers pathology.  Yes, I can blame her for them but it does nothing when it comes to dealing with myself in the here and now and doing what I have to do get better.  But maybe, just maybe, the distorted thoughts and beliefs are not hard wired in my brain but rather just trained responses as my former T told me time and time again.

Were there times when I felt loved by my mother without the words and outside of abuse?  Yes, I think so.  I can remember being sick as a kid and her wrapping me up in a blanket and letting me lie in her bed and watch TV and bringing me soup.  Does stuff like that count?  I am trying to remember stuff from before the Dark Years when things were really bad.  Too much fog and confusion there though.

I think there were glimpses of love, or what passed for love in her dysfunctional mind.  Were glimpses and brief sightings of kindness and selfless love enough?  Apparently as a kid, they were enough for me to grab onto for comfort and reassurance so that I could survive.  Just as I had to grab onto and take her hate, anger, loathing and everything else negative and blame myself rather than her or risk not surviving.

Just as I can not and should not separate my mother into the good mother, bad mother and pretend that her disorder(s), whether BPD or SZ or whatever, only exist in the bad version of her, I can not separate her love into the good version either.  The reality is that regardless of the diagnosis she is only one person. 

So what has all this to do with me and healing myself?  I don't know.  Writing this, I feel like I am missing something.  That I am dancing all around a truth or insight that is quite obvious and is *right there* but I remain blind to it.

[Roselily]

I'm just seeing here Harri, to answer my own question ... you are in therapy... We are abt the same age too... with Many similarities in history. I was told by my therapist too, my mother was very ill but also showed pure evil ... at times.
Hearing that said, and validated... without me even asking her opinion ...
was somewhat a relief... but shocking at first too...

 That face you were talking abt? I've seen it too... .and I'll tell everybody... .it's scary... not something anyone wants to run into ever!
That face on my mothers face showed up at times, when I confronted it or her head on bar none. The rage was hatred... pure hatred... in raw form.Her face became distorted almost unrecognizable two feet in front of me. Almost everything my mother told me,as a child I know now was projection.
How could a 6-12 year old really be that worthless and no good... having lived such a short time?
Your situation as u stated is somewhat different than many here... if your Mom DX was SZ... that would explain a lot of her extreme behaviors, fear and paranoia, with camping out in the basement... but it no less deeply affected you ... .

It does sound as if she was incapable of loving you, her precious daughter due to her mental illness. We don't get to choose who brought us into this world, but I choose to remain LC from here on out because she's toxic to my soul( she's 84) ...
I hope you will receive comfort, support, and  the feeling of being cared for just for who you are... from this BPD family and me personally knowing you aren't alone and we care.

[Harri]

Hi aldactone.  Thanks so much for responding and your support.  

You definitely do understand the evil look and the rage.  I call it annihilating rage though i generally do not share that part afraid I will come across as dramatic or sick in the head.  I am truly sorry you had to experience the same thing.  

My mother was never diagnosed nor treated as SZ.  She died back in 2007 and never admitted to having any sort of problem.  It is so hard to try to see her behaviors through the lens of delusions and paranoia right now.  Only recently was I able to work through her delusion that I was born special (long story and not special in a good sense but rather one where I was born to be abused) and I do still have to stop and remember that what she said about me was not true.  I guess it will take some more time for things to settle in my mind and my heart.  I am okay with that though and I expect to have to repeat things before they stick.

My biggest concern right now is whether I should keep posting here and how do i go back and edit posts so I can say uBPD/uSZ?  I suppose it does not really matter to anyone but me though the incompleteness of my amateur diagnosis does bother me.

I do get tons of support and comfort from the people here.  Thank you for joining in!

*************

I saw my T on Wednesday of this week.  I had a lot of questions for her about the paranoid delusions my mother had.  With all the reading I had done, I told her I felt like I was the one who should have had the gun to protect myself from her.  My T agreed.  Once again, I am left feeling like I am a very lucky person.  Not only do I not have SZ, but she did not kill me either.  Yeah, I said lucky.  

I also told her, again, that I always felt that my mother loved me.  She agreed saying that she did but it was through her paranoia and delusions.  Of course her love does not meet our definitions of the same as we are not SZ with paranoid features.

She kept repeating delusions, paranoia,  and how dangerous some of these people can be.

I asked her if things were really that bad for me as a kid.  She said yes.  I am still struggling with this one.

We talked about my father.  I asked what caused him to allow my mother to do the things she did, to just sit back and watch passively.  She mentioned it could be something called 'f.olie a deux' or shared psychosis.  We talked about it a bit and she explained it to me.  I had a hard time seeing it and asked if there was a DSM category of Pathetic Little Man Syndrome.  Of course I read about it when i got home and then again most of yesterday.  I am not convinced that he shared all of her delusions, but I do think he bought into her 'I am a saintly martar and you all have done me wrong' schtick.  Hell I bought into it too.  As a matter of fact, when she described this shared psychosis info, I asked her how it did not apply to me as I too bought into my mothers delusions.  She again explained I was a child, I knew no different, and that I was a victim.  The key difference though is that I did not *participate* in the delusions.  I have to keep reminding myself of that.

More evidence of progress as I did not recoil or react to the word victim.  Okay, okay... .I sort of winced.  So shoot me.  I will get there dammit!

She said that all the hard work I did with my former T is what made me ready to hear all of this new info... .and the song lyrics 'we've only just begun' started playing in my head.  Grrr... .

Looking back, it feels like the work I did with my old T was easy.  Total mind f*ck.

[Panda39]

My biggest concern right now is whether I should keep posting here and how do i go back and edit posts so I can say uBPD/uSZ?  I suppose it does not really matter to anyone but me though the incompleteness of my amateur diagnosis does bother me.

Hi Harri,

I've been lurking  and listening to your story... .literally had chill run up my spine with this new information about your mom.  Protective of little Harri (I know, I know... .you just can't take the caretaker out of the girl/Panda sometimes) and hopeful that this new information will help grown up Harri along in her journey.

It is a journey don't worry about correcting your posts you knew what you knew, now you know something different and you will know more in the future, none of this is static it's always moving.

I hope you will keep posting you have a lot of friends (a menagerie... .Parrotts, Pandas, Wolves... .you must be an animal lover!)

She said that all the hard work I did with my former T is what made me ready to hear all of this new info... .and the song lyrics 'we've only just begun' started playing in my head.  Grrr... .

Wow!  The Carpenters!  ... .to live, white lace and promises... .one of the very first albums I ever owned... .Okay, now I'm giving away my age 

Keep up the good/hard work Harri I'm cheering you on.

Panda39

[Harri]

Hi Panda!   

I have to admit that my menagerie of friends here are quite important to me, and yes, that includes you.  Thanks for the reassurance about posting here.  Yes, it was info I thought was correct and now I know more/better info.  I've been thinking about it and realize that the info on boundaries, projections, splitting all still apply for the most part in terms of helping myself to understand and cope.  I do not have to start over from scratch on everything and I still fit in here and can offer others support.  That is very important to me. 

BTW, little Harri appreciates the protective impulse from you... .so does the adult Harri.  It feels good and validates my experiences at least emotionally.  Thank you!  My mother used to tell me I was overly dramatic and had a very active imagination and part of me has always wondered about that, questioning my own ability to see reality.

Haha about the Carpenters!  I listen to a lot of 'older' music and when this song comes on the radio I tend to blast it... .along with that song Brandy and a few others.  Of course I feel compelled to roll up all the windows in my car lest others hear it.  Wouldn't want to reduce my cool factor (I am so *not* cool!).  haha. 

Today, part of me wants to run around frantically as I wrestle with the idea that my life really was in danger.  Dramatic or accepting reality?  I don't know at this point.  I do know it is in the past but(!) I am sitting here fidgeting with my hands as i am filled with anxiety and fear remembering how my mother would rage, or walk out on us while screaming and how i would stand watch at the window waiting for her to come back, relieved because she always did but still scared because she could turn on a dime.  I am struck with the realization that my feelings, my near frozen fear and anxiety, then and now, would not change no matter the label. 

I am filled with rage at my father.  PLMS (Pathetic Little Man Syndrome) seems far more fitting than shared psychosis at this point.  How on earth does a 6'3" former marine buy into my mothers B.S. and not protect their kids?  In comparison, my mother seems the less crazy one.  Certainly less culpable. 

I catch myself wondering if perhaps I am in my own "A Beautiful Mind" film here and perhaps I am the crazy one with the delusions and none of this is real.  See, that's the thing with psychotic disorders, the person never knows the difference between delusion and reality.  What is real here?  Or maybe "Fight Club" would be a more appropriate title right now because I feel like fighting the world, the demons in my own mind and my parents in particular.  Never mind that they are physically dead, they are real in my mind.  The damage is real and still infecting my mind.

The voice in my head that comments and critiques every thought, action and word I have and puts me on trial is working hard on me and I wonder how that voice in *my* head is any different from the voice I assume my mother heard in her head.  What is the difference?  I've got quantity but is it a matter of quality?  Is it really different just because the negative voice is directed inward?  Not all paranoid SZs harm others.  Far too many decide to harm themselves listening to the voices.  How is that any different than what I do in my own mind, beating myself down, berating myself and keeping myself secluded so that I do not hurt others by being my defective self ... .my mother's delusion that I bought into, internalized and believed for a little over 5 decades without even being aware that is was a delusion.  That false belief, that delusion that I shared, shaped my behavior and my reality.  but what if it wasn't a delusion?

There is a voice in my head saying "haha, I have fooled them all into thinking I am good, and worthy of their help and time" with them being my friends here and my former and current T.

Am I acting out in a needy waifish way right now?  Looking for a chorus of voices to pipe up and reassure me that I am not crazy, looking for attention?  Am I looking for others to do the hard work for me?  Am I a drama queen? A validation junky?  A weak person who can't stand on her own?

Reality... .fiction.  What is the difference?

[Panda39]

My mother used to tell me I was overly dramatic and had a very active imagination... .

Today, part of me wants to run around frantically as I wrestle with the idea that my life really was in danger.  Dramatic or accepting reality?

 

Are you listening to the inner critic?  Your mother?

I do know it is in the past but(!) I am sitting here fidgeting with my hands as i am filled with anxiety and fear remembering how my mother would rage, or walk out on us while screaming and how i would stand watch at the window waiting for her to come back, relieved because she always did but still scared because she could turn on a dime.  I am struck with the realization that my feelings, my near frozen fear and anxiety, then and now, would not change no matter the label. 

Unfortunately, no matter the label it doesn't change what you experienced, but I think it can add a new perspective how you look back on it as you try to understand and process it. 

I am filled with rage at my father.  PLMS (Pathetic Little Man Syndrome) seems far more fitting than shared psychosis at this point.  How on earth does a 6'3" former marine buy into my mothers B.S. and not protect their kids?  In comparison, my mother seems the less crazy one.  Certainly less culpable. 

Unfortunately, he was abusive in his passive neglect. You ended up with what I would call a double whammy in terms of your parents  

The voice in my head that comments and critiques every thought, action and word I have and puts me on trial is working hard on me and I wonder how that voice in *my* head is any different from the voice I assume my mother heard in her head.  What is the difference?  I've got quantity but is it a matter of quality?  Is it really different just because the negative voice is directed inward?  Not all paranoid SZs harm others.  Far too many decide to harm themselves listening to the voices.  How is that any different than what I do in my own mind, beating myself down, berating myself and keeping myself secluded so that I do not hurt others by being my defective self ... .my mother's delusion that I bought into, internalized and believed for a little over 5 decades without even being aware that is was a delusion.  That false belief, that delusion that I shared, shaped my behavior and my reality.  but what if it wasn't a delusion?

I have many of those voices in my head too, that feeling that you have to sensor yourself.  In my case always the feeling that I need to keep my feelings under control, that strong feelings are bad, that people don't want to hear my feelings or at least at full force, that an emotional response is bad, I've learned it's my inner critic... .my intellectual, serious, critical mother.  This is precisely the dysfunctional stuff that I internalized as a sensitive kid. We won't go into how not smart I am too or how pretty I'd be if I lost weight.  I had a good childhood but never connected with my mom we were a mismatch I don't think she tried to be deliberately critical but I still internalized the messages... .I have 3 negative messages that I can name that I internalized with a "normal" mom, that I have to negotiate.  I'm more mindful of these things now and see them for what they are and am much better at being my authentic self or at the very least recognizing when I'm not being myself and why.

How many dysfunctional messages did you internalize with a mentally ill mom? It seems completely normal to me that you have all of this stuff going on in your head (not easy or fun but makes sense to me), is it okay to feel or say what you want to say? (what will the reaction be?... .you lived on egg shells) How will it effect the person you are engaged with (will it be hurtful to them? To you?... .will you suffer for what you say?). Is this feeling real? (when you were constantly invalidated), am I defective/special (when these were the messages you received)... .It' a lot to work through and it seems exhausting but I do understand it.

There is a voice in my head saying "haha, I have fooled them all into thinking I am good, and worthy of their help and time" with them being my friends here and my former and current T.

I'm not buying this, I'm not being fooled and if I am I still choose to be your friend.    Too bad you're stuck with me 

Am I acting out in a needy waifish way right now?  Looking for a chorus of voices to pipe up and reassure me that I am not crazy, looking for attention?  Am I looking for others to do the hard work for me?  Am I a drama queen? A validation junky?  A weak person who can't stand on her own?

Harri, it's okay to ask for help and support... .it isn't bad, it isn't attention seeking, it's asking for what you need and it is okay to do that. This is something I've also had to learn and still have to work at... .it's hard when like in my case the message was "you're weak or not smart" if you ask for help, or in your case not receiving help when you asked for it.

I'm here and so are your other friends.

Panda39

[Kwamina]

There is a voice in my head saying "haha, I have fooled them all into thinking I am good, and worthy of their help and time" with them being my friends here and my former and current T.

Well actually you were born worthy of love and support and still are  Nothing you say or do changes that. Nothing your mother said or did to you changes that either.

Am I acting out in a needy waifish way right now?  Looking for a chorus of voices to pipe up and reassure me that I am not crazy, looking for attention?  Am I looking for others to do the hard work for me?  Am I a drama queen? A validation junky?  A weak person who can't stand on her own?

Then I guess all of us here can join you as weak people because all our members (including me) joined this site because we were in need of help. All of us joined bpdfamily because we could not make it on our own and needed the support and advice of others. And that's ok, it's a sign of our shared humanity.

You are entering a new phase of healing. I'm joining the panda, I'm ready for the next round against your inner demons, so let's go and do this thing!

[Harri]

'Animal Behavior:  Shared Psychosis in a Group Setting'  with Panda, Kwamina, and Harri.  Sure, you guys can jump into my bowl of Froot Loops and join me... .the milk is just fine!  

Yes, I am struggling, I do feel needy and I am reaching out for help.  So what? Dammit.  I keep telling myself I do not need to announce how difficult and hard it is or how I do not like it every blasted time.  The voice is telling me I am doing it to get pity and to be told how hard this is.  Arrrgh!  It is hard, but I do not want pity.  Support, acceptance, maybe some sympathy (just a smidge tho), yes, but not pity.  Okay, so I did not get pity from anyone here.  Whew.  I can put my fists down.  (Just making note of my defensive impulses so I can look back later)

Panda, Kwamina, you both made me cry with relief, and awe.  Your support and your belief in me have been so steady regardless of how I feel inside and how it comes out here in my writing and how much I try to push you all away.  Saying thank you seems so inadequate but it is all I have and it is sincere.

Panda, you managed to normalize and quiet down the voices I have in my head.  No easy feat.  Your words made what I am experiencing make sense and told me they are normal or at least expected.  

I can't tell if the voice is my inner critic, my mothers or my own.  It seems to be a combination of all three.  Perhaps as I continue to work things out, my own voice will separate and become strong enough to override the others.  I tell others to tell the voice to shut up sometimes... .some of the things the voice says are so ridiculous in hindsight.

Kwamina.  Shared humanity?  It feels good to be included in that group after continuing to exile myself for so long.  You too just normalized behaviors that still seem so wrong to me at a gut level (ie asking for help, reaching out and even worse, accepting it).  More layers of the same old delusion that told me I am less than.  Thank you.

You are entering a new phase of healing. I'm joining the panda, I'm ready for the next round against your inner demons, so let's go and do this thing!

This makes me feel energized and stronger.  Thanks for the company.  The next round though?  I am having a hard time seeing my current state as a progression though I am not going to complain if you are up for it too.  

Snippets from therapy:

me:  at least my mother never wore a tin foil hat cuz that would have been super special
T:  <laughs> That's their early warning system Harri.

me:  How on earth can you tell it is time to wrap things up when there is no clock behind me?
T:  Well, if you made eye contact with me more often you would see me looking at the clock on the bookshelf to your left.
me:  <makes face> You should have kept quiet about that because I was thinking you were magical <feeling quite comfortable with Ts sarcasm>

T:  i used to work in a state mental hospital and the only patients we were ever scared of were the paranoid schizophrenics.  We made sure they took their meds.
Me:  <silent... .head explodes>

T:  Harri, the only thing you did 'wrong' was to go back after moving out.
me:  Yes, I did that twice even before I left for good.
T:  talks of Stockholm Syndrome and child abuse
me: All the time I wasted... .
T:  Yes.  <reminds me of the stages of grief and how I went through 3 or 4 in that one session>

Questions:  Would it have been better if my mother had worn a tin foil hat?  Or in more appropriate politically correct words <sigh> would it have been better if she were more ummmm... .obvious to others in her psychosis?  Would hospitalization and medication have helped enough to have saved me and my brother?  Notice how I don't even think of my mother?  FTS

[LittleBlueTruck]

Harri,

I wonder if most people have this experience... .by the time they stumble on this site, they are so conflicted because they are dying to share their story but too exhausted to get into it.

Her hiding in the basement and shrinking from you... .not that severe, but I've experienced shades of this my entire life and continue to... .my grandmother told everyone my grandfather was SZ. It's one of the great betrayals my uBPD mom speaks of when she absolutely vilifies my grandmother... .but I have often wondered maybe it was true... .maybe grandma had BPD, grandpa was SZ and mom is both.

You are so achingly emotionally intelligent and your presentation of your pain and vulnerabilities and insecurities about seeking help - a light at the end of the tunnel for me. I also often feel I have "everyone fooled" because, well, my mom recently told a loved one that I am an authoritarian dictator who has everyone fooled!

I keep asking my best friend and husband if they ever wonder if I'm just a mastermind psychotic and what if I am making this all up.

Again. Just so exhausting. Sorry so fragmented. Peace to you, friend. Peace to your heart.

[Turkish]

I remember my mom telling me at 15 that "everyone thinks you are so great,  but they don't know the real Turkish like I do!" Yes, she referred to me in the 3rd person voice. So I read worthless,  and everybody else was lying to me.

I was old enough to realize that while that hurt,  she was wrong.  It was damaging enough at that age. I can't imagine how much more damaging this would be to a younger children. I weep at how damaging it would be of I were like this to S7 and D5, how much damage I could easily inflict upping my babies.  

Harri- you didn't deserve any of that.  No one does.  

[Panda39]

I remember my mom telling me at 15 that "everyone thinks you are so great,  but they don't know the real Turkish like I do!" Yes, she referred to me in the 3rd person voice. So I read worthless,  and everybody else was lying to me.

I was old enough to realize that while that hurt,  she was wrong.  It was damaging enough at that age. I can't imagine how much more damaging this would be to a younger children... .

I can't tell if the voice is my inner critic, my mothers or my own.  It seems to be a combination of all three.  Perhaps as I continue to work things out, my own voice will separate and become strong enough to override the others.  I tell others to tell the voice to shut up sometimes... .some of the things the voice says are so ridiculous in hindsight.

It's a process to get to your own voice and believing that voice is okay... .trusting your truth... .your authentic self. 

Turkish was a smart kid and figured it out when he was younger, it took me into my late 40's.  I had a breakdown that turned into breakthroughs, some amazingly supportive people in my life that stepped up for me when I was showing ALL of those emotions I had hid for years.  They showed me that I could be loved even when showing those behaviors I had been taught to hide, that I believed were bad.  They showed me that I could ask for help and receive it.  They showed me that although I am imperfect that I was lovable in spite of my imperfections.  I began to feel empowered because of the validation I'd received.  I was good just the way I was my thoughts and feelings were okay without censor of my inner critic/my mother.

I went for a visit with my mom 2010 and spent the entire time in mindfulness and watched the interactions between the two of us and it was fascinating.  I realized the criticism was about her and about things she needed and really had very little to do with who I was... .it was about how I was a reflection of her.

Harri, I really hope you are able to sort through it all, all of the internalized beliefs that have come from a disordered mom, all of those competing voices in your head, and the authentic Harri finds and loves herself.

I know you might not believe this... .tell those voices to shut the hell up! But I can tell you what I see... .Someone sensitive, smart, caring, struggling, learning, growing, articulate, brave, a survivor, strong, hurt by her childhood, loving, honest, open, beats herself up, and often completely hilarious... .not perfect, not special, not horrible, not pathetic, simply human and a human with a particular combination of personality traits that I like.  I know you might not see it or believe it yet but I'm here to tell you that it's there. 

You have a lot to sort through but what I love about you is that you are taking it on, it's not easy, it's hard, it's really hard... .keep it up Harri a little at a time.

Panda39

[Fie]

Hello Harri !


It is always so very nice to hear from you 

It’s a spot on question you are asking ‘did my mother love me ?’… and I so much understand why you are looking for evidence that she actually did love you / that you did not get it wrong. Because if she didn’t love you … that would make you unlovable … and, also, wrong in your perception and thus in your judgement... about your own mum !  A person you were supposed to be so close to … right ? A person you were supposed to have trust in, trust in love that *should* be there, because this is what mothers do, they love their children.  So it’s a catch 22…
Some years ago a friend very harshly told me ‘your mother didn’t love you’. We were discussing so her saying this was framed by the discussion, but still, it sounded incredibly hard. My first reaction of course was resistance (‘of course she loved me! It was my mum!’) and disbelief.
It sunk in however and I thought about it. Gradually I came to the realization that my mum is probably not capable of love the way that I or most other people are. By accepting that, it became less hard for me to accept the fact that mum probably doesn’t love me. Of course I am not in her head, so I can never really know for sure … but actions speak louder than words, and considering the way she treated / treads me, I can only conclude that she doesn’t.  She was my primary caretaker. The one person who was supposed to love and nurture me. Of course it’s hard to understand (or at least, to think) that she didn’t. Because deep down there was this feeling that well…if she really didn’t, then it must have been me…right ? Than it is because I just was not lovable enough …
Being a mum myself though, I realize that children are *always* lovable. It took me most of my life to stop disliking myself, also as an adult. But since some years, also because of being a mum myself, I have come to realize that *at least as a child* I was worthy of love. Not because I was so or so, but because I just *was*. Do you understand what I mean ? I think we can all rationally agree that all children are innocent, and lovable. Just because they are born that way. No exceptions. That means, also little Harri was.
If my mum did not love her child, then something was seriously wrong with my mum… And yes, when I look at the (very few) relationships my mother had with other people, I do not see a lot of evidence of love there either …. So I guess she’s just not capable.
And you know what ? It doesn’t even matter if she did or didn’t. Because I am a lovable person, then as a child, and now. And the fact that my mother doesn’t love me does not change that.
So I kind of stopped thinking about it. She ‘probably’ didn’t love me. And if she did, well …, it didn’t really help me because she never really showed it. So it really doesn’t matter.

I do recognize what you said about feeling loved when you were ill. That were always situations in my life where I felt glimpses of love. Very strange. As if then suddenly she realized that she could lose me ? But then, again, maybe it’s not love, but selfishness ? Because if it is really love, why did the love always stop the moment I got better ?

[Harri]

Hi Little Blue, how are you?  Thank you for responding and for sharing that you too feel like a fraud.  I am so thankful to you for sharing that and also for your own thread on the topic as so many others posted and we saw that we are not alone or all that 'special' for feeling this way.  Of course we feel this way after our reality was so distorted for so long!  It makes sense to me.  Thank you for your kindness and support.

Turkish, your mother... .as I've said before she could never see you except through her own disordered filters and projections.  It is her loss that she never got to see the person you were or the man you are now.  Her loss.  It is sobering to realize how much influence parents have on their kids ability to relate to the world and how hard it must be to let the kids develop according to their own personality and be true to who they are.  Keep treasuring those kids of yours.  I think they are lucky to have you.

Panda, Panda, Panda... .  I sorta ran from your post.     I did not have a complete shut down but I did have to sit with some pretty uncomfortable feelings after reading how you see me.  Thank you.  The thing I struggled with the most was realizing just how much I want to believe what you said... .that you like me!  yes, I want to run around saying "she likes me!, she really likes me"!  I did notice that reading your words did not hurt like they would have not so long ago and how I did not automatically reject them and go into self destruct mode.  Thank you for sharing part of your journey and making me realize something else--->  I am ready to allow myself to see me in a more gentle way.  Basically, I want to experience what you shared here about your friends and how you have learned to see yourself.  Your story of self-acceptance is beautiful.  thanks for sharing.

Fie, I have wondered how you are!  It is good to see you too.  I agree with what you said about a mothers love and how I and others are sometimes loathe to admit that they did not love us.  The fact is, my mother did love me.  <please do not bang your head on the wall just yet!>

I hope I can word this correctly as I think I have expressed myself poorly on this point so far:

I did and still believe my mother loved me. 

I did and still believe her love was twisted, abusive, sick etc prior to writing this thread or even prior to my posting on this site. 

I know it was not love as healthy people define and experience love.  I get it.

I don't know how else to explain this here.  It is possible that I am still hanging on to an illusion, though I do not think so.  I feel no anger or frustration, I am not trying to push away other peoples opinions on this which is what happens when I am in denial.  I am listening to you all and watching myself for any inkling that I am in denial.  I am not finding it though I am not counting out anything at this point.

Let's keep plugging away on this.

Thanks everyone!

[Kwamina]

Hiya Harri

I did and still believe my mother loved me.  

I did and still believe her love was twisted, abusive, sick etc prior to writing this thread or even prior to my posting on this site.  

I know it was not love as healthy people define and experience love.  I get it.

Your mother was unfortunately and sadly, clearly disordered. Yet in her distorted thinking she could actually have loved you and through her distorted perception she herself might actually have believed that she was treating you in a loving manner. The sad thing is though, that her love was harmful to you and had significant consequences for you. No matter if it was motivated by (a distorted) love or not, her actions were abusive and have harmed you.

In spite of everything, she was still your mother and the only mother you ever had. I know that you did love her too and like an old dear member (SLYQQ) once said to you on here: It is ok to love Harri. And it is also ok to believe in love. Your mother is gone from this earth now and perhaps the thought that in all her disorder and dysfunction, she deep inside did love you, is the only cherished memory you now have left of her.

Let's keep plugging away on this.

You asked for it yourself so here I am again!

[Harri]

Hi Kwamina, how are you?

Well, my mother loving me is not a cherished memory at all.  I am filled with sadness and grief and yes relief that I was not crazy in thinking she loved me.  She was crazy, but I wasn't, nor was I stupid or dumb to believe so.  Her definition of love does not match mine but then again, she was insane.

I remember SLYQQ!  And yes, it is okay for me to love.  Thanks for reminding me of that.