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NOTE: This is what I posted to my family and friends network recently.Bear with me, this is not a call for help on my behalf but one of loved ones impacted by family members with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD). It is an insidious disease with genetic and environmental factors with multiple triggers that make a loved one always feel like they are walking on eggshells. BPD wasn’t new to my life and I believe it is this disorder along with other catchment based Personality disorders and related co-morbidities or masked as such. (Fibromyalgia, OCD etc.) that have affected my life and my loved ones profoundly.
At this juncture in my life, I know the exact date(s) when BPD reared its ugly head with this loved one once again in my life again. As embarrassing but also as cathartic this post is to me, it highlights a point in time where I need to express myself in hopes that others recognize the situation and/or can find a way to help this individual out. I have been cancelled, I have been relegated to being thrown out with the garbage. I do this out of love, this is out of hope. It hurts me to see a loved one in pain.
Years after understanding the consequences of the insidious nature of BPD in a previous life and coupled with the genetics, co-morbidities and stressors that can bring BPD back to life in the “next generation” with individuals who are either ineffectively treated or BPD is unrecognized before it is too late. I am writing a brief but important story about how it all unravels in the blink of an eye, in a moment in time. It was Early November, 2018 when a simple, invite to a small Thanksgiving celebration turned into a one-way, hate filled, diatribe that began the last phase of untreated BPD. Below is an excerpt from How A Borderline Relationship Evolves.
https://bpdfamily.com/content/how-borderline-relationship-evolvesRead and read closely. In fact, to help me understand the exact timing and to better understand the evolution of BPD in this particular relationship I was lucky enough to have my entire texting history never deleted, probably just out of pure laziness on my part, but now it serves me well. It offered a retrospective glimpse, to review all those texts from 2014-2021 and see all the love, the bumps, the adventures and the hopes and dreams all expressed both in vivid pictures and text messages. In retrospect, I guess, it was nice to see parenting in action, parenting by default. I was always trying to stay at a safe distance, not overbearing but coming in to help as needed. I was the parent who wanted to know your loved one was safe but didn’t want to influence a relationship or situation by helicoptering my way into the relationship. Even with the best intentions and now understanding the clarity or lack thereof. It seems to have failed me.
In the texts we saw a young adult going through their own good and bad relationships (as we all do) trying to discover that right fit, that right person you can rely on and you can have a meaningful life with. As I re-read the past years of texts, there was an eerily disturbing pattern of one bad relationship after another. Don’t get me wrong, there were many happy moments shared. Many, many moments of parental pride. However, it always came back to bad roommates-not neat enough, too much drama, there was stalker boyfriend this, and stalker boyfriend that. Parent this, parent that. It was always BLACK AND WHITE never shades of GRAY.
As a parent, you were always there to console, to be a sounding board. Later in life, you were there for the car breakdowns, the unpaid bill that needed attention, you were invited to their work Holiday party and were proud to hear from their boss what a great employee your loved one was, you were asked for advice on Dentist, Medical and you were even there for a traumatic intensive care hospitalization. (Meningitis) You were even there to be a safety net when one bad male relationship went sour; where you drove with your loved one to this individuals “place” to pick up a few assorted remnants (possessions) of the relationship gone bad.
You supported the notion that it was a bad relationship. You consoled, offered positive words to get your loved one through the breakup. You were there as a parent, a loved one. You broke bread and drink in your hood, you shared many other moments with your loved one. They were the caregiver of your dog on vacations and business trips and likewise you were the caregiver of their pets when they went on adventures. You gloated over their accomplishments and talents. The relationship evolved to one where my new love of my life regularly went shopping, dining and visits on their own. You thought that was great, you didn’t need to force the “new relationship.”
Then like the cold winds of Fall, early November 2018 hit like a late season hurricane. It was one innocuous request of a divorced parent, if a Thanksgiving visit might be in order. No strings attached, nothing to worry about, you only live 2 miles away….leave when you want. Come just for dessert? It was all downhill and hatred ever since. What was it that was the trigger at that point, was it bad moment just previous or bad advice, was it a bad professional counseling session, was it an unknown stressor, was it an ex or friend playing psychologist that I was not privy to that triggered that fatal moment? It was in my estimation the final stages of BPD.
The memory is so vivid, the description through both myself and my partner in life. It was a moment in time that is still frozen. We re-read, and attempted to understand the “hate texts” this moment in time when all hell broke loose. All the positive childhood and young adulthood memories shattered in an instant.
Fast forward, we are now at the Hater Phase of BPD it is scary, hateful, distressing and a mixed jumble of confused misspelled, words and diatribes that require you to accept the fact that you are the direction of this hatred, you are the inanimate object that has been chosen. You see it in the sentence construction, the verbal text cues of disjointed comments. This is not like the texts from yesteryear. You are now an inanimate object to them, there is no volume, no edit button to stop the unrelenting attacks and threats of an individual with BPD at this stage. It’s almost if you are the victim of a “road rage incident.” Drive-by cursing, finger pointing and forcing one off the road of life.
What is the Hater Phase?
Love - the Hater Phase
Once a Borderline Controller has succeeded and is in control, the Hater appears. This hateful part of her may have emerged before, but you probably will not see it in full, acidic bloom until she feels she has achieved a firm hold on your conscience and compassion -- but when that part makes its first appearance, rage is how it breaks into your life.
What gives this rage its characteristically borderline flavor is that it is very difficult for someone witnessing it to know what triggered it in reality. But that is its primary identifying clue: the actual rage-trigger is difficult for you to see. But in the Borderline's mind it always seems to be very clear. To her, there is always a cause. And the cause is always you. Whether it is the tone of your voice, how you think, how you feel, dress, move or breathe - or "the way you're looking at me," - she will always justify her rage by blaming you for "having to hurt her." Rage reactions are also unpredictable and unexpected. They happen when you least expect it. And they can become extremely dangerous. What is the purpose of this short-life story? It is one of hope, it is one of rekindling in some small way an ability to reach and love a loved one in hopes it’s not too late. One where others recognize the insidious nature of BPD and in hopes that there is a path forward. A place where all will be fine someday. I have accepted my fate as a parent but will try and try again and again as a concerned parent to see if there is help out there that can be offered.
I move on with a heavy heart, but it doesn’t prevent me from still enjoying the finer moments of life despite the many ups and downs it brings to not only myself but to others. I also am hoping others will read the link about BPD and find ways to reach out to help and put the pin back in the grenade we call BPD.
Some may say it is just easier to walk away, let life go on. In general, we will do that but in our heart of hearts we know that there is much life to live and your loved ones are an important part of that.
