Never Happened

[hopesprings]

So, a few weeks ago, my husband and I bought our first new car ever.  We were really excited and had found a great deal.  I called my uBPD mom to let her know because she is also looking for a car and I had been keeping her somewhat informed about what I was finding at different dealerships.  I've found that keeping our relationship focused on neutral topics helps, so I felt safe with the car conversation.

Wrong.  She picked a major fight with me.  I should have hung up the phone, but I was having a hard time believing what I was hearing from her.  She accused my husband of "doing things" that I don't know about, but that she of course does.  I need to "keep my eyes open", "be aware", oh and by the way, she won't tell me what the "things" are.  My siblings also know about my husband's secret life.  They all know, but I don't,  but they "love" me. 

I told my mother that I thought it was very unfair if she had important information about my husband that she would keep it from me and that I didn't see how my relationship with her could progress with that type of road block. There was more.  She accused me of saying "things" about her to my children and as a result they won't look her in the eye.  Could be because she spends almost no time with them and they don't have any real relationship with her?  I was shaking, sick to my stomach, etc, but I called my sister who is the "golden child" to clarify what she knew.  She had no idea what my mother was talking about.  I didn't call my mother again.

Two weeks later, the phone rings and it is my mother.  Sweet as can be, talking about the squirrels and the trees.  I just listened and casually mentioned I was enjoying the new car.  She said, "Oh, you bought a new car?" Seemed to have no recollection at all.  It was weird.  She never says she is sorry for anything so I wasn't expecting that.  I was just amazed that she apparently didn't even remember the car, which had been a big deal for me.  Upon reflection, I realized she had been projecting her entire marriage history onto me.  My father really did have a secret life and she hadn't known.  I hadn't been in the conversation at all.  It was just my mother and her issues.  When I have experiences with her like that, it makes me feel sad for the child I was, growing up in a home with so much craziness.

I'm so sick of hearing the word "love" get twisted up into something ugly and manipulative.  Her attempts to make me feel like I can't trust the world, but I can trust her.  And then the periods of normal, for weeks, maybe months.  It is like the ground is never firm beneath my feet. You never know which step is going to be the one that throws you off balance.  Just needed to vent ... .

[Bella Storm]

Hi hopesprings,

Lots of hugs to you  .

I can relate to uBPD mom having a rage filled conversation only to call again later and have no recollection of the conversation. Do you ever feel like you are entering the twilight zone when dealing with your mom? It feels that way to me sometimes.

My mom never says sorry either. Best I can hope for is a half-apology filled with justification and rationalization of why her behavior was whatever it was. It is very frustrating to deal with, and I'm sure you have had similar experiences that are just as frustrating to you.

Your name reminds me of a saying my youngest sister says which is, "hope springs eternal". Makes me smile when I think of it. Anyway, hope you are enjoying your new car. 

Hugs.

~Bella

[Calsun]

Hi Hopesprings,

I could relate completely to your situation.  My mother is an uBPD. and when she would engage in tirades, abuse, scream, when she returned to some degree of normalcy, she would never acknowledge what she did, nor would anyone in the family. It was maddening. It was as if huge parts of reality were just spliced out of the family footage.  I do believe that my mother is incapable of really remembering the extent of what she has done.  And as a uBPD, she is really teetering on the edge of understanding what is real, which is a very scary thing for  a child and even for an adult to acknowledge about a mother.  That Mom was really out of touch with reality.

I could also relate to how twisted the word "love" became.  My mother would abuse and then tell you that she loved you.  And my aunt would say, you know your mother loves you.  My father would say that, as well.  It would have been far better for an adult to acknowledge to me that my mother was really incapable of being a loving person because of her illness, rather than leading me to believe that what she was doing was just her version of loving someone, or to feel deep down that I was unlovable because Mom found such fault with me that she couldn't love me.  What a terrible feeling to be taught that you are so bad that even your own mother can't love you.  The reality, the truth was that she was ill and had no basis for understanding what love truly is. I was very lovable.  I just didn't have a mother who was capable of really loving her children or herself.

Best,

Calsun