Reflecting upon my parents' upbringing

[Before you can make things better, you have to stop making them worse...]

Since before Christmas, I have been focusing my journalling on Dan Neuharth's book If You Had Controlling Parents: How to Make Peace with Your Past and Take Your Place in the World.

Today, I sat and journalled on the topic: Did either of your parents have a family history of physical or sexual abuse, mental illness or substance abuse? By the time I had finished, I felt very sad for my mother because her childhood was highly dysfunctional on many levels and that's only the little I know about it. It seems to me that my mother deserves congratulating for the extent to which she has prevented certain types of abuse from being transmitted further down the generational line. It is clearer to me than ever that my mother has a good heart - I have often doubted that, thinking that the lack of love she showed me was maliciously motivated in some way, that she actively hated me rather than simply was unable to love. Now I see that she has done what she was able to do to try and make my life better than her own. I am sad for me though, because I have realised that her family background was so dysfunctional that she was never going to be able to make things right enough for me to feel secure and loved. There was never going to be a happier outcome for me, given she had no access to therapeutic support. However, just for the moment, I am simply grateful that my life wasn't 10 times worse.

Love Lifewriter

[Lifewriter16]

Since before Christmas, I have been focusing my journalling on Dan Neuharth's book If You Had Controlling Parents: How to Make Peace with Your Past and Take Your Place in the World.

Today, I sat and journalled on the topic: Did either of your parents have a family history of physical or sexual abuse, mental illness or substance abuse? By the time I had finished, I felt very sad for my mother because her childhood was highly dysfunctional on many levels and that's only the little I know about it. It seems to me that my mother deserves congratulating for the extent to which she has prevented certain types of abuse from being transmitted further down the generational line. It is clearer to me than ever that my mother has a good heart - I have often doubted that, thinking that the lack of love she showed me was maliciously motivated in some way, that she actively hated me rather than simply was unable to love. Now I see that she has done what she was able to do to try and make my life better than her own. I am sad for me though, because I have realised that her family background was so dysfunctional that she was never going to be able to make things right enough for me to feel secure and loved. There was never going to be a happier outcome for me, given she had no access to therapeutic support. However, just for the moment, I am simply grateful that my life wasn't 10 times worse.

Love Lifewriter

[HappyChappy]

Hi Lifewriter16,

I hear you there.  You make a good point. My experience is slightly different, in that my BPD described a terrible upbringing mainly to justify how she treated us. “Because my mother did it to me” was her excuse. But when I thought  to check only recently the BPD fantasy thinking was clearly at play and her siblings said as much.

I think the remarkable thing is we kids of BPD tend to me quiet supportive and caring people. That’s the great thing. We developed empathy.  My NPD GC bro was the only person my BPD treated well and he’s consumed with jealousy and anger. Despite wanting attention he’s always lived alone in the shadows. That would be a 10 X worse scenario. But I do think/hope my BPD metered out far worse than she got.

[eeks]

It is clearer to me than ever that my mother has a good heart - I have often doubted that, thinking that the lack of love she showed me was maliciously motivated in some way, that she actively hated me rather than simply was unable to love. Now I see that she has done what she was able to do to try and make my life better than her own. I am sad for me though, because I have realised that her family background was so dysfunctional that she was never going to be able to make things right enough for me to feel secure and loved. There was never going to be a happier outcome for me, given she had no access to therapeutic support. However, just for the moment, I am simply grateful that my life wasn't 10 times worse.

Hi Lifewriter,

It sounds like you are gradually releasing blame towards both yourself and your parents, and this is not artificial or forcing yourself to try to "forgive" because someone told you you should, but rather new perspectives that are emerging in you on their own.  I would say that is a good sign that you are moving towards peace with your past, and acceptance. 

Now that you have had these realizations, what is your relationship with your emotions like sadness and anger?  I know you talked about these before.  I believe that the more life energy can "flow freely" in us, including emotions, the more well-being we experience, so that's why I'm asking.

I think the remarkable thing is we kids of BPD tend to me quiet supportive and caring people. That’s the great thing. We developed empathy. 

Do you find that that empathy is often turned outwards, towards other people, and that you don't always understand your own feelings or empathize with yourself to the same degree?  I'm not saying the survivor's empathy isn't "true" empathy, I just notice that sometimes it seems turned outward as hypervigilance, attempting to anticipate any problems and compensate for them before they happen, and it can be harder to "hold" awareness simultaneously of both self and others' feelings and needs during a conflict.

[Lifewriter16]

Thanks for checking in on my thread folks. I really appreciate it.

What I didn't say in my original post was that on Friday, I was in terrible pain and wanted to see my BPDxbf so much, that I prayed I'd be given the opportunity. I wandered around like a lost soul, just willing him to turn up. It's a sad case really! When I'd finally given up hope of seeing him, and decided to go home, there he was at the bus stop. I just stood and watched him, smiling, happy to simply be near him. I decided I wouldn't approach him or make him aware of me since the last contact we had, he said he never wanted to see or hear from me ever again. I handed whether we actually spoke over to God. Anyway, my BPDxbf saw me and came over and we chatted for a couple of minutes. And then I caught the bus home happy to have been allowed to see him and comforted by his presence.

However, a massive wave of sadness hit me at midnight last night and I've cried pitifully for most of today. It has taken me by surprise. I thought I'd found some closure. But, what it boils down to is this: I love him... .and there's nothing that I can do to make things work. All I can do is grieve over the loss. He dysregulates. I react. Between us, we have ruined it and neither of us has the capacity to make it right. I have no option but to deal with my pain and come to terms with the inevitability of the outcome even though we were devoted to each other. It so reminds me of how I feel about my mother. It is, and always was, completely out of my control.

Love Lifewriter