My mother

[Isurvived]

I learned about BPD after searching for information on parents who smother their children. My mother (who died some years ago) matches several BPD traits, and I believe she suffered from it. We suffered, too.

When I was a child, I was always in trouble. Always. My mother would fly into a rage and spank me hard, usually screaming at me, too. When I cried, she would threaten me: "Stop crying, or I'll REALLY give you something to cry about."

So I had to learn to cry as silently as possible.

About an hour or so after these episodes of rage, she would tell me, "Come here." I didn't want to. I was afraid of being spanked again. But she would give me a loving smile, sit me on her lap, sometimes give me something to eat or drink, and pay attention to me. The contrast could not have been more different.

I learned from this that the people who claim to love you are the ones who hurt  you the most.

Mom did improve a bit over the years. The rages calmed down. But Mom was very, very smart, and instead of screaming, she started a different kind of control. Like I said above, I was always in trouble. I grew up being the black sheep. Everything was my fault. Meanwhile, my sister got away with everything. She was Mom's favorite. Everyone's favorite, despite the fact that she always tattled on me to get me into even more trouble, and blackmailed me into doing her chores by threatening to tell Mom about some misbehavior of mine.

Mom did go to counseling, but she was never diagnosed with BPD. And she never had the in-depth therapy that she so desperately needed. She changed her tactics from rage to manipulation. I know that she manipulated me, but it only occurred to me recently that she manipulated everyone else, too. She wanted me to be completely dependent on her, all the while complaining to others that I was so needy. It was a win-win situation for her. If I did something right, she bragged about me to everyone, even strangers. If she disapproved of something I'd done, she complained about how hard it was to have a kid like me. Either way, she got all the attention.

My siblings believed that I was taking advantage of Mom. She bought me lots of presents, drove me everywhere, and took me on a nice vacation when I turned 21. Meanwhile, I didn't have a driver's license, because she made it so easy for me not to have one. I'm the youngest, and she didn't want me to leave home. I believe that she wanted me to be everything to her - child, teenager, adult, best friend, confidante, caregiver, decision maker.

I finally left the house in my twenties, and never moved back in. Mom's health declined after that. I think she was so caught up in manipulating us that she couldn't handle it when we weren't there.

I grew up thinking that everyone viewed me as "bad". I got into relationships with manipulative men who reinforced this idea. Nothing I did was right. Everything was wrong. Whatever I did, or didn't do, or thought of doing, was wrong. And Mom was right there, manipulating me all the way. My first "boyfriend" was a truly loathsome specimen, and there was a power struggle between the two of them. When I first got involved with him, Mom told me that she'd told my siblings I had a boyfriend. She told me what they had said: "SHE has a BOYFRIEND?"

Mom thought it was funny. Yeah, hilarious. I was 19 and I'd never dated anyone. I was exceptionally immature, overweight, with low self-esteem, and here Mom thought that it would be funny to tell me how my siblings reacted to the knowledge that someone wanted to date me.

I was always the "bad" kid, despite the fact that I never got into alcohol, smoking, or other drugs. No kids in my teens - no kids ever, as a matter of fact. I didn't drop out of school. I have no criminal record. My perfect sister, however, did have her share of alcohol/drug use, and when she got married, she cheated on her husband and then left him for the other guy. She now cheats on her second husband.

Mom was very popular. VERY popular. People have wonderful memories of her. How kind she was, how supportive, how helpful. They didn't see the flip side of it. They judge me for living at home for so long, without stopping to think that if Mom had really wanted me out of the house, she could have made it happen.

I wonder, now, if any of her friends had an idea how wrong things were. I don't know. If I were to tell them about the things she did to me, they might not believe me. After all, I'm the one who was always "bad", so they could easily blow me off. Like I said, I wasn't the only one manipulated by Mom.

One of the terrible things is that I can see the person she might have been, if she hadn't been mentally ill. She was very smart and well-educated. She was very talented in many things. She encouraged my love of reading. She made our birthday cakes every year. We made Christmas cookies and decorated them. She made quite a few of my clothes. And on and on.

And then I think of the way she looked when she spanked me, and how terrified I was. And all of those little things she said that undermined my confidence.

How do you heal from this?

[lucky013]

I learned about BPD after searching for information on parents who smother their children. My mother (who died some years ago) matches several BPD traits, and I believe she suffered from it. We suffered, too.

When I was a child, I was always in trouble. Always. My mother would fly into a rage and spank me hard, usually screaming at me, too. When I cried, she would threaten me: "Stop crying, or I'll REALLY give you something to cry about."

So I had to learn to cry as silently as possible.

About an hour or so after these episodes of rage, she would tell me, "Come here." I didn't want to. I was afraid of being spanked again. But she would give me a loving smile, sit me on her lap, sometimes give me something to eat or drink, and pay attention to me. The contrast could not have been more different.

I learned from this that the people who claim to love you are the ones who hurt you the most.

Mom did improve a bit over the years. The rages calmed down. But Mom was very, very smart, and instead of screaming, she started a different kind of control. Like I said above, I was always in trouble. I grew up being the black sheep. Everything was my fault. Meanwhile, my sister got away with everything. She was Mom's favourite. Everyone's favourite, despite the fact that she always tattled on me to get me into even more trouble, and blackmailed me into doing her chores by threatening to tell Mom about some misbehaviour of mine.

Mom did go to counselling, but she was never diagnosed with BPD. And she never had the in-depth therapy that she so desperately needed. She changed her tactics from rage to manipulation. I know that she manipulated me, but it only occurred to me recently that she manipulated everyone else, too. She wanted me to be completely dependent on her, all the while complaining to others that I was so needy. It was a win-win situation for her. If I did something right, she bragged about me to everyone, even strangers. If she disapproved of something I'd done, she complained about how hard it was to have a kid like me. Either way, she got all the attention.

This is exactly the same as what my mum does and I always use to tell her not to tell others about my personal life as it was nothing to do with them, she would usually do this when drinking. So now I just don't tell her anything about my life, it was the same with my father.

My siblings believed that I was taking advantage of Mom. She bought me lots of presents, drove me everywhere, and took me on a nice vacation when I turned 21. Meanwhile, I didn't have a driver's license, because she made it so easy for me not to have one. I'm the youngest, and she didn't want me to leave home. I believe that she wanted me to be everything to her - child, teenager, adult, best friend, confidante, caregiver, decision maker.

I finally left the house in my twenties, and never moved back in. Mom's health declined after that. I think she was so caught up in manipulating us that she couldn't handle it when we weren't there.

I'm curious what age did you move out and what was the defining moment for you? As in 26 still living at home and so is my sister age 21 but were are both thinking about moving to Australia from England in the next 3 months as it too much living here. I've just started trying to explain all this to my sister, she thought I was crazy. The second we leave she just hits the bottle and my sister has a serious case of FOG and so do I deep down.

I grew up thinking that everyone viewed me as "bad". I got into relationships with manipulative men who reinforced this idea. Nothing I did was right. Everything was wrong. Whatever I did, or didn't do, or thought of doing, was wrong. And Mom was right there, manipulating me all the way. My first "boyfriend" was a truly loathsome specimen, and there was a power struggle between the two of them. When I first got involved with him, Mom told me that she'd told my siblings I had a boyfriend. She told me what they had said: "SHE has a BOYFRIEND?"

This is usually a common problem, have you been in many relationships or friendships that are also BPD or NPD? I would always ask my mother for advice on dating and love life. What a silly idea that was. 80% of my relationships were toxic and took 6 years of researching online and therapy to fully understand why I was so unhappy in life.

Mom thought it was funny. Yeah, hilarious. I was 19 and I'd never dated anyone. I was exceptionally immature, overweight, with low self-esteem, and her Mom thought that it would be funny to tell me how my siblings reacted to the knowledge that someone wanted to date me.

I was always the "bad" kid, despite the fact that I never got into alcohol, smoking, or other drugs. No kids in my teens - no kids ever, as a matter of fact. I didn't drop out of school. I have no criminal record. My perfect sister, however, did have her share of alcohol/drug use, and when she got married, she cheated on her husband and then left him for the other guy. She now cheats on her second husband.

Did your mother have any substance issues? I ended up getting into smoking weed at age 13 after my first girlfriend turned out to be BPD and since then I've had 8 relationships of NPD/BPD. When I use to say to my mother they were crazy or not right. She would say don't say things about people like that and liked all of my gf. As they were all the same as her. Apart from my last relationship, who was clinically diagnosed with BPD and she avoided my mother as she was trying to get me away from her so she could have me for myself.

Mom was very popular. VERY popular. People have wonderful memories of her. How kind she was, how supportive, how helpful. They didn't see the flip side of it. They judge me for living at home for so long, without stopping to think that if Mom had really wanted me out of the house, she could have made it happen.

I wonder, now, if any of her friends had an idea how wrong things were. I don't know. If I were to tell them about the things she did to me, they might not believe me. After all, I'm the one who was always "bad", so they could easily blow me off. Like I said, I wasn't the only one manipulated by Mom.

One of the terrible things is that I can see the person she might have been, if she hadn't been mentally ill. She was very smart and well-educated. She was very talented in many things. She encouraged my love of reading. She made our birthday cakes every year. We made Christmas cookies and decorated them. She made quite a few of my clothes. And on and on.

I think the doing the nice things is a way of her, making you feel obligated to do things for her and be nice etc. Mine is so intrusive on my sister life (her bank, work, cleaning, food) and when I was younger age 13 she use to go through my phone. I have a lock on my door now, she hated it, to begin with, there were no boundaries this is her house and her rules she always said.


And then I think of the way she looked when she spanked me, and how terrified I was. And all of those little things she said that undermined my confidence.

I'm not a therapist but from what you've said on this post, she definitely sounds like she is on the cluster b spectrum. As none of this is normal behaviour for a loving mother. If she doesn't show you empathy or others in the correct manner, it's a huge red flag. If her words and actions do not match then it is never good. Your story is so similar to mine it's untrue.

Your not alone on this journey, How do you feel now you're with your husband and in a different country to when you were living at home?

I hope this gives you some insight that you're not the only one this has happened to.

How do you heal from this?

It sounds like you're doing the right things to move forward , look at where you started and how far you've grown from when you started.

[Isurvived]

Those are good responses and questions!

I was 25 when I finally moved out. I didn't move to somewhere else in town, or somewhere else in the vicinity. I moved to another country, where I still live.

As for my relationships, I've never had a healthy intimate relationship with a man. I'm not married, and never have been. I never even came close. I do have some very close friends whom I have known since either childhood or my teen years. I've also formed friendships (if you can call them that) with very controlling, demanding people. One of these people was someone I knew as a teenager. She may well be BPD - she claimed that bipolar syndrome ran in her family, but it may have been a misdiagnosis. She certainly fit the BPD profile. My "boyfriends" were extremely self-absorbed, and cared only about what they wanted and what they got from me.

When I was a kid, Mom used to have a glass of wine in the evenings. I never knew her to get drunk, let alone abuse alcohol. After I moved out, she started having panic attacks, and some idiot doctor, instead of recommending a good therapist, put her on Zoloft. I believe she became addicted to it.

Mom used to go through my room, just as you said about yours. She used to sit and watch me while I talked about something, and I finally realized (years later) that she was observing me, as if I were a form of wildlife. She was assessing how best to keep me under her control and under her roof.

You know that little sparkle in someone's eye when they look at someone they love, or at least someone they care about? I don't trust that look. It's only come from people who were out to use me. I saw it from Mom. I saw it from my former "boyfriends". I saw it from a man I regarded not only as a friend, but as a sort of substitute father. (My own father left when I was a baby, and I hardly ever saw him.) And each time, that look has spelled either disaster or serious problems.

As for the nice things, I really do think, even now, that Mom did them because she enjoyed doing them, and because it was a happy time. She did have sympathy and empathy for others. And if she didn't, she did one hell of a good job of faking it, and I don't think she had the acting skills to pull it off. I could always tell when she was lying, so I doubt very much that she could convincingly play sympathy/empathy.

One of my "boyfriends" pretended to feel both those qualities, but he didn't. I ignored it while we were together, but after he dumped me, I realized just how cold he really was (and still is).

I sought out people who treated me the way I was used to being treated. This means I've had a series of terrible work relationships, terribly "friendships", and even worse "intimate" relationships. It was only recently that I made a breakthrough in thinking. I realized that I couldn't possibly have done enough to warrant the treatment I received. I didn't arrive in this world with intent to raise hell. I didn't get up in the mornings, as a child, wondering what problems I could cause everyone that day. I just remember everyone criticizing me and telling me how terrible I was. Mom used to lean over me and shout, "Shame on you!" I don't remember why.

I felt like the worst kid in the world, and nothing I could do was enough. My oldest sister has told me that she felt the same way. I think it's because we look like Dad's side of the family, and Mom HATED them. I mean, HATED them. Whenever she looked at that sister, or at me, she saw them. My other sister (the tattletale) and my brother look like her side of the family, and they were her favorites.

Important though it is to have made this realization, it also hurts so much.

[lucky013]

How was it for you when you moved out ? Was there a crisis that made that happen or just you'd had enough?

That's interesting, did he behaviour change when she got put on medication?

Not sure how she would feel about that but I have met BPD's that were vegan and vegetarian and worked for the EPA, because they cared so much for animals and the world, yet were completely void of empathy etc. This is very easy for them to learn myself and from other peoples experiences that I have spoken to.

It usually comes down to them being right about things, rather than caring about things. They will usually do tasks that they are good at and avoid ones of which they struggle or cant do well, as they will appear vulnerable.
 Apparently, men usually have less interest in trying to cover it up, whereas a woman would be more sneaky and manipulative, it depends if they are covert or a normal narcissist. My mother doesn't have many friends etc and has a low narcissist supply, which causes the overthinking and drinking. When she has a man, she usually doesn't drink, if she is always getting her own way and then it comes like a tidal wave when it all goes wrong.

My mother is always telling me and my sister how selfish were are, so can relate to that also.

I also look like my father, whereas my sister doesn't look like anyone in the family, though I have never thought of it like that.

[Isurvived]

There was no crisis that caused me to move out. I was accepted into a year-long program at a school abroad, and left. I'd fallen in love with the place from a prior visit, and I (being younger at the time) had all kinds of grandiose dreams of being rich and famous and living in another country.

The ironic thing is, Mom had said a few years earlier that she thought I would end up living in another country. I tended to believe that whatever Mom said must be true, so maybe that was really what caused me to do it. I don't know.

If Mom didn't feel sympathy or empathy, then as I said, she was very skilled at pretending. It could be that she started pretending at a very early age, so that eventually, even she believed it. But I think she really did feel it, even if it wasn't as much as other people do. I've been around far too many people who are cold as ice, and I can see the difference between Mom and these people.

When she was put on medication, she was already coming unglued. A few years later, she was diagnosed with Alzheimer's. I call b.s. on that diagnosis. I believed then, and believe now, that she tortured herself to death. She did not live a psychologically healthy life, and it seemed that almost everything was a severe trial to her. One of her kids moved away? Oh, the tragedy. One of her kids did something "bad"? Oh, everyone was judging her.

Mom was an extremely judgmental person, and she believed that everyone was equally judgmental. So, she was convinced that everyone was judging her for everything - her appearance, her house, her kids, how green the lawn was in summer. I used to argue with her about watering the lawn, because it was a waste of water in drought seasons, but she was adamant. I told her, "Nobody cares if the lawn is green!" She always responded, "I care."

Yeah, she cared because she thought it would look bad to the neighbors. Who didn't water their lawns anyway.

I've been wondering how to sift through my childhood and separate the truth from the lies. I'm only just now realizing how much of her teachings I absorbed. I'm used to being the one who is always in the wrong, and now, I don't know when I was, and when I wasn't.

There's a wonderful classic movie called Remember the Night with Barbara Stanwyck and Fred MacMurray. Stanwyck plays a woman who has been arrested for shoplifting, and MacMurray is the prosecuting attorney who ends up falling for her. In one scene, he drives her to her mother's house for Christmas (before her trial), and her mother wants nothing to do with her. Later, Stanwyck says, "She was always so right, and I was always so wrong."

It really hits home now.

I was thinking about this whole mess today, and it occurred to me that Mom wanted the appearance of good. She wanted the picture-perfect family, with a husband and children, but she didn't want the reality of it. She didn't want to deal with diapers and late-night feedings and temper tantrums and visits to the doctor. She did deal with them, but she didn't want to. And she had to, after Dad took off. (Dad was no prize either, by the way.)

I really don't know where to start in dealing with this. Is that book on cPTSD as good as they say?

[trailsinger]

You've hit on something key, I think: the fact that you could never know what to expect. One minute raging, the next all lovey-dovey. You were constantly jerked around. I've read that this is harder on a person than a parent who is consistently abusive, because then you know where you are all the time. The inconsistency can make you feel crazy! But it's not you.

Totally get too the grief over not getting to have the mother you know she could have been without the BPD. I feel the same loss. My mother was artistic, funny, and adventurous on her good days. What a role model! Now that she's gone I try to live up to that inheritance and let the rest go. She couldn't help being how she was. (I know just how toxic my grandmother was . . .)

One thing I noticed: at one point you say your sister could do no wrong in your mothers' eyes, and then you say your siblings all think your mother preferred you. Could it be that you all were aware of when your mother treated the other sibling lovingly and took that as a sign of favoritism when in fact you were all getting the same mixed messages? I say this because my younger sister has accused me of stealing all our mother's love, when from my perspective, 1. there wasn't a whole lot of love coming down the pipe and 2. mom never missed a chance to criticize me either, but my sister wasn't usually there to see it.

[Isurvived]

Yes, the inconsistency was everywhere. I never knew what would set her off. I could be screamed at for spilling my milk, or she would just calmly wipe it up. I remember, when I was thirteen, finally confronting her and telling her I was too old to be spanked. She actually agreed.

She still took me to a pediatrician, though, until I was in my late teens. I had to be the one to tell her I was too old to see him anymore. I believe she wanted to have an exceptional life without actually doing anything about it - she wanted a reality where everyone knew what she wanted when she wanted it, and gave it to her. Yet I also think she needed to be needed.

As for my sister (and my brother) being the favorite, my sister and I are the youngest by several years, so we got all kinds of things that the older ones didn't. Mom was making more money by the time we hit our teen years, and of course, with the other kids out of the house, she could afford to buy nicer presents for us. I think she was also intent on keeping my perfect sister around - not necessarily in the house, but in town. So when she moved out, Mom concentrated on me. As I said before, she bought me presents, took me places, did all kinds of things that she couldn't afford to do when my siblings were younger. So, they were jealous, and I can certainly see why.

I also believe that she was working on them all the while. Telling them things about me that she knew would make them upset, and then they would take it out on me. My brother and I had a huge falling-out some years ago, and he made contact again (years later) when he finally realized I had no intention of contacting him at all. Things are still strained and uncomfortable between us.

So there is a reason for my siblings' view of me as the favorite. As the youngest, I got lots of things that Mom couldn't afford to give them. But the flip side is that she was grooming me as her person to give her everything. She might still be alive if I hadn't moved out, but I wouldn't have anything even vaguely resembling a life of my own.

[trailsinger]

she wanted a reality where everyone knew what she wanted when she wanted it, and gave it to her. Yet I also think she needed to be needed.

You're describing my mom . . .

I also found that if I stood up to (yelled at) her she would often agree with me! Took me until 40 to realize that. Things actually improved a lot after I learned to stand my ground with her.