Trying to move on with my life

[Our abuse recovery guide]

I’ve always been fearful, when talking about my mother, that others would write me off as an immature, upset child. Having only recently discovered the term BPD, I’d previously been only able to describe her actions, which led some people to believe they were listening to exaggerations from a young girl seeking attention.

I’m currently in my early 20s and no longer living with her.

Some of my earliest childhood memories include my mother asking me and my brother which parent we wanted to live with after they divorced. Despite almost-daily fights with either my father, brother, me or any of the other people who came and went from my mother’s life, my parents are still married.

Another very vivid memory is  of me staring at a pill bottle on the windowsill after my mother informed me that she was no longer going to take her “happy pills.” I think I was about 9 or 10 at the time. Even at that young age, I remember wishing she would.

To this day, I don’t know what my mother was diagnosed with during that time. She commonly used the word “depression”, but I always knew what she had was something more complicated than that. The second half of my childhood involved me waking up each morning fearful of her wrath, even though the day had yet to begin and I’d done nothing to deserve such a reaction. Looking at her the “wrong” way, talking to her, not talking to her, leaving a voicemail, not leaving a voicemail were just a few of the easy ways to set her off. Punishments could include being grounded for three months for any of these offenses.  God forbid you actually do something worth being punished for. Crimes ranging from “airing dirty laundry” or developing an eating disorder (which she viewed as being your fault) resulted in her screaming at you for hours and then giving you the cold shoulder and death stare for a few weeks. The eating disorder was dealt with by force-feeding and bathroom accompaniment and continual putdowns.

These are just a few examples of my daily life. It should also be noted that my brother and I were homeschooled. This was a blessing and a curse. In retrospect, I’m thankful for it because it allowed me to excel and escape, however it was hell getting to that point.

Typical of a person with BPD, my mother would go through spurts when she seemed to love me. She was extremely controlling, but insisted it was out of love. As teenagers, we were mandated to call her every time we left one place and went to another, then left that place and went to another. Twenty phone calls could be exchanged in one day. When we returned home, the “inquisition” would start, which included telling her who was there, what they said, what we did, and what people thought of everything. Not answering a question, however personal or private it may be, meant we were hiding something from her. And god forbid we would confuse a detail, because then you were lying. (For example saying I called someone, having earlier said that person called me.) She wanted us to be her “best friend”. My mother had no real friends and worked from home with little interaction with coworkers. Sometimes consciously, and moreoften subconsciously, we strove to please her in everything we did, in an attempt for her to “love” us, or at least not make our lives miserable.

It’s also important to note that my mom dedicated a great deal of her life to my brother and me. Countless hours were spent giving us opportunities to learn, driving us to extracurricular activities and showering us with gifts and trips. We loved this side of my mom, which made it so confusing and difficult to deal with the other side of her. Unfortunately, my mother seems blind to her dark side, and sees herself only as a caring, generous martyr.

By 15, I was working two jobs and begging my boss for extra hours so I wouldn’t have to go home. He became someone I looked up to and someone who I would confide in. He strongly encouraged me to move out as soon as I could.

As mentioned before, being homeschooled enabled me to excel academically and I started going to a community college at a very young age. In two years, I graduated with a degree in a good field. I found work within weeks and moved out of state.  However, the controlling nature of my mother didn’t stop then. Twenty plus phone calls were still exchanged every day, along with many emails. I still had this overwhelming sense of commitment to her, and a very poor sense of self. She would track my location (until I got my own cell phone plan) and call me screaming if she didn’t like where I was. Countless friendships and relationships were ended because of direct interference from my mom both before I moved out and after: Writing threatening letters to them, lying and calling the cops on them, and sometimes in-person confrontations.

Four years have passed and I am more distant from her than ever. However, my severed relationship with her means I’ve also had extremely limited contact with my father and brother.

I am now married to a wonderful man who my mother hates. During the course of our engagement she sent numerous slanderous emails to friends of mine asking them to convince me to call it off. She also called and wrote to me directly numerous times insisting she was the only one who would ever love me in spite of myself. Not a single family member of mine came to the wedding. My dad wanted to come, but was fearful of my mother who had threatened him with divorce if he came or gave us any financial support. He’s always been extremely passive and willing to do whatever pleases her. Unfortunately, my brother and I used to be extremely close growing up, but he still lives at home and has developed many traits similar to my mother.

It was my mother-in-law who first mentioned that she thought my mother may have BPD. I’ve read numerous books and articles about it since. The sense of joy I felt upon realizing there was a name for my mother’s illness, and that other people could relate to what I experienced was immense.

I’ve come quite a long way in a short amount a time. Although, I still have this underlying feeling of being orphaned. Some days are better than others. I’m looking forward to interacting and learning from everyone else in this community.

[Justme1]

I’ve always been fearful, when talking about my mother, that others would write me off as an immature, upset child. Having only recently discovered the term BPD, I’d previously been only able to describe her actions, which led some people to believe they were listening to exaggerations from a young girl seeking attention.

I’m currently in my early 20s and no longer living with her.

Some of my earliest childhood memories include my mother asking me and my brother which parent we wanted to live with after they divorced. Despite almost-daily fights with either my father, brother, me or any of the other people who came and went from my mother’s life, my parents are still married.

Another very vivid memory is  of me staring at a pill bottle on the windowsill after my mother informed me that she was no longer going to take her “happy pills.” I think I was about 9 or 10 at the time. Even at that young age, I remember wishing she would.

To this day, I don’t know what my mother was diagnosed with during that time. She commonly used the word “depression”, but I always knew what she had was something more complicated than that. The second half of my childhood involved me waking up each morning fearful of her wrath, even though the day had yet to begin and I’d done nothing to deserve such a reaction. Looking at her the “wrong” way, talking to her, not talking to her, leaving a voicemail, not leaving a voicemail were just a few of the easy ways to set her off. Punishments could include being grounded for three months for any of these offenses.  God forbid you actually do something worth being punished for. Crimes ranging from “airing dirty laundry” or developing an eating disorder (which she viewed as being your fault) resulted in her screaming at you for hours and then giving you the cold shoulder and death stare for a few weeks. The eating disorder was dealt with by force-feeding and bathroom accompaniment and continual putdowns.

These are just a few examples of my daily life. It should also be noted that my brother and I were homeschooled. This was a blessing and a curse. In retrospect, I’m thankful for it because it allowed me to excel and escape, however it was hell getting to that point.

Typical of a person with BPD, my mother would go through spurts when she seemed to love me. She was extremely controlling, but insisted it was out of love. As teenagers, we were mandated to call her every time we left one place and went to another, then left that place and went to another. Twenty phone calls could be exchanged in one day. When we returned home, the “inquisition” would start, which included telling her who was there, what they said, what we did, and what people thought of everything. Not answering a question, however personal or private it may be, meant we were hiding something from her. And god forbid we would confuse a detail, because then you were lying. (For example saying I called someone, having earlier said that person called me.) She wanted us to be her “best friend”. My mother had no real friends and worked from home with little interaction with coworkers. Sometimes consciously, and moreoften subconsciously, we strove to please her in everything we did, in an attempt for her to “love” us, or at least not make our lives miserable.

It’s also important to note that my mom dedicated a great deal of her life to my brother and me. Countless hours were spent giving us opportunities to learn, driving us to extracurricular activities and showering us with gifts and trips. We loved this side of my mom, which made it so confusing and difficult to deal with the other side of her. Unfortunately, my mother seems blind to her dark side, and sees herself only as a caring, generous martyr.

By 15, I was working two jobs and begging my boss for extra hours so I wouldn’t have to go home. He became someone I looked up to and someone who I would confide in. He strongly encouraged me to move out as soon as I could.

As mentioned before, being homeschooled enabled me to excel academically and I started going to a community college at a very young age. In two years, I graduated with a degree in a good field. I found work within weeks and moved out of state.  However, the controlling nature of my mother didn’t stop then. Twenty plus phone calls were still exchanged every day, along with many emails. I still had this overwhelming sense of commitment to her, and a very poor sense of self. She would track my location (until I got my own cell phone plan) and call me screaming if she didn’t like where I was. Countless friendships and relationships were ended because of direct interference from my mom both before I moved out and after: Writing threatening letters to them, lying and calling the cops on them, and sometimes in-person confrontations.

Four years have passed and I am more distant from her than ever. However, my severed relationship with her means I’ve also had extremely limited contact with my father and brother.

I am now married to a wonderful man who my mother hates. During the course of our engagement she sent numerous slanderous emails to friends of mine asking them to convince me to call it off. She also called and wrote to me directly numerous times insisting she was the only one who would ever love me in spite of myself. Not a single family member of mine came to the wedding. My dad wanted to come, but was fearful of my mother who had threatened him with divorce if he came or gave us any financial support. He’s always been extremely passive and willing to do whatever pleases her. Unfortunately, my brother and I used to be extremely close growing up, but he still lives at home and has developed many traits similar to my mother.

It was my mother-in-law who first mentioned that she thought my mother may have BPD. I’ve read numerous books and articles about it since. The sense of joy I felt upon realizing there was a name for my mother’s illness, and that other people could relate to what I experienced was immense.

I’ve come quite a long way in a short amount a time. Although, I still have this underlying feeling of being orphaned. Some days are better than others. I’m looking forward to interacting and learning from everyone else in this community.

[peaceplease]

Justme1,

  I am glad that you found us here.  I am sorry that you have limited contact with your brother and father, and no contact with your mom.  I am sorry there was nobody from your family to show their support for you at your wedding.  And, I am glad that your mother-in-law has given you some insight on BPD.

You will find many have parallel stories to yours.  You will find great comfort from the empathy of other members.  This place is so supportive!

It sounds like you have been introduced to what BPD is.  If you go the home page, you will find various links, articles, videos, and resources getting further in depth. 

I would like to suggest a board that seems to fit your situation.  The board is:   Coping and Healing from a BPD Parent, Sibling, or Inlaw.

Please let us know, if there is anything that we can help you with.

peaceplease

[WiseMind]

Hi and welcome, Justme1!

I can relate to a lot of what you posted. I have an uBPDmom. Being nervous/anxious as soon as I woke up because I didn't know which 'mom' I'd get that day, inconsistent discipline, silent treatments, arguments with my dad, threats to not 'air the dirty laundry' and to 'keep family business with the family', and more general manipulation. My mom 'forgets' all of the bad memories and rewrites history to make her look good or to make her the martyr. I'm glad you found this site because it has helped me to understand what she has and the symptoms of the disease, and has also validated my own feelings. Are you currently in therapy? That has also been a great outlet and learning tool for me.

I hope you continue to share and check out this site.   You are not alone.

- WiseMind

[Justme1]

Thanks to both of you for the warm welcome

WiseMind,

It feels wonderful to know that you understand what I've been through. For years, the only people who understood were friends of mine who had witnessed my mom's behavior firsthand, yet they couldn't relate to the daily abuse and the emotions that stirred up within me.

I'm currently not seeing a therapist, although I'm open to the idea. I went to one a few years ago, before I was familiar with the term BPD, but didn't find it to be that helpful. Perhaps it just wasn't a good match. I'd like to find someone who is familiar with BPD and try again.

I look forward to reading your posts and learning from both of you!

[FreeBird33]

Justme1,

I can really relate to your story, my BPDm made it where me and the rest of my family weren't allowed to go to things my mom didn't approve of, especially when it was one of my all-bad siblings and included everything from college graduations to weddings. She would rally us all against who ever she was raging against at the time. Looking back on it now, not realizing how dysfunctional and emotionally abusive it was can get me riled up.  But I am so glad to hear that you have found a supportive partner and in-laws. I wish you the best of luck in your journey.

FreeBird33

[Justme1]

Thanks FreeBird33,

I can definitely relate to having to rally around whoever she was raging against at the time. When I was about 12, an adult neighbor who I looked up to told me something that stuck with me throughout the rest of my childhood. She said: "Why do you always say 'We like' or 'We do this' and 'We don't like this person'. You are your own person and can make your own decisions about what you do and what you like! Start using the word 'I'. " It's such a simple concept, but it really blew my mind at the time.

Over the years my brother and I took turns being the all-good and the all-bad child. I've been the bad one for the past several years. As much as that hurts, I'm okay with it as long as I'm free from her. It's a work in progress.

Thanks for your support, and I wish the best to you, too!