Introduction—Daughter of a Mother with BPD

[CeliaBea]

Dear All:

I'm so glad to have found this forum! I'm in my mid-forties now. Six years ago, I entered therapy, and through counseling sessions and literature, discovered that my mother most probably suffers from BPD, although I can, of course, not diagnose this condition with certainty. I was my mother's "golden child" when I was little and she had me under her thumb. She was overbearing and tightly controlled everything I did. I was kept in almost total isolation and was not allowed to go to Kindergarten or participate in many normal activities. Later, when I was a teenager, she flew into rages whenever I tried to become more independent, or she faked illnesses, even a stroke, to keep me from leaving the house. In my early 20s, I moved very far away, partly for education/vocational reasons, partly to get away from her suffocating hold over me. Over the years, I returned once or twice a year to visit; staying with my parents (my father is co-dependent, I would say, and never interferes or says anything, to "keep the peace" was usually unbearable. My mother has also destroyed the relationship between me and my older siblings, especially my sister. We were often pitted against each other. Anyway, after a disastrous Christmas visit in 2008—my mother rejected my Christmas present, insulted and humiliated me—I decided not to visit again. We still talked on the phone every once in a while, but when the verbal abuse continued, I broke off contact in 2011—on a trial basis, for 6 month. I gave my mother the option of contacting me, by letter (because I figured she wouldn't berate me if she saw her words black on white), once that period was up. She never did, which is fine, too: I've started healing, and I've come to realize that the childhood I had wasn't "normal" at all, that it left deep scars, and that I'm much better off not having any contact with her whatsoever. By the way, contact with my father broke off too, by default, probably because he feels being in touch with me means being disloyal to his wife. The only family member I occasionally have contact with is my brother (who's always been the "black child," and who has, without doubt, suffered the worst abuse in our family). He's been dealing with depression, addiction, and serious illness for much of his life. I'm also in touch with my sister-in-law, who's been relentlessly targeted by my mother ever since she married my brother.

While I've come a long way in my recovery, I would still like to work on problem areas. I feel that I'm terribly sensitive and withdrawn, and I feel uncomfortable around people. Thank goodness I have a wonderful partner, and several pets—so I do, fortunately, have a small, loving family.

I'm not sure if being hyper-sensitive and often feeling "off balance" (emotionally) are consequences of growing up with a mother who suffers from BPD, but suspect as much. I'm also frustrated with the lack of understanding for children of BPD mothers—mothers are held in such high regard in most cultures, really, and even a very good friend of mine thinks I should "reconsider" my stance and forgive my mother, now that she's getting on in age (she's in her late seventies) 

Wow, sorry, that's a long intro! I look forward to connecting with others who've had similar experiences.

CeliaBea

[Turkish]

Hello CeliaBea,



I'm glad you are here to continue your healing path, and having the strength to reach out to others is a virtue 

I'm sorry your friend is invalidating you like that. While I think parents should in general be honored and respected, the attitude of the parent always being right, or the almost deification of motherhood in general, is black and white thinking. Outsiders any mean well, but they can't understand growing up being emotionally or physically abused.

Take a look at the survivor's guide to the right of the board. Where do you see yourself at this point?

Turkish

[CeliaBea]

Dear Turkish,

Thanks for the warm welcome! I looked at the survivor's guide on the right and believe I'm somewhere between points 16/17/18, although that fluctuates and earlier issues (such as dealing with overwhelming emotions—I'm a huge conflict avoider and have massive problems with how to express anger or deal with conflict) do come up on occasion.

At this point of my life, I wonder how much of my character/personality is "deformed" by early experiences of abuse (I was diagnosed with complex post traumatic stress disorder, which is terrifyingly close to BPD), and how much of my need for solitude, peace, and quiet etc. is actually "authentic." I wonder if others are struggling with that question, too.

CeliaBea

[bethanny]

Celia -

Seriously relate to your history.  Be golden or else was my mandate, too.  When I stood up to my mother and had the huge backlash I lost my primary and secondary family "by default".  I was stunned that my mother couldn't let the struggle between us stay private but she immediately righteously began assassinating my character to anyone and everyone, and she postured as someone who was so wonderful and heartbroken and suddenly maliciously wounded and that I must have gone crazy the way I was treating her. She postured hurt confusion.  She was gaslighting me and letting it ricochet all about within our mutual social network.

I wrongly assumed she would calm down in a reasonable amount of time and we could deal with it one on one, and she never did.  All the secrets I had kept all the years about the tension and dysfunction of an alcoholic family. She brought an angry letter I had written about her and my father to relatives to show them how mean I was being. 

There was no going back with any reasonable resolution or even loosening of the leash.  After so much investment in walking on eggs, one wrong assertive modest step and it was OVER and the punishment was unexpected of her in expanding it so publicly. I recognized finally and fully what degree of fear i felt for my mother and how lacking in serious appreciation for our relationship she had.  I finally recognized it had no stress resilience and had been shallow and brittle.  I had rationalized my obsequiousness to her as my pity and generosity and a serious degree of an assumption I had of reciprocity of respect between us.  I couldn't minimize the enormous raw fear I felt for her any longer despite the roller coaster visits to "nice mommy". Nice mommy's appearances required Stepford Bethanny stoking.

I could have crawled back with an even shorter leash, but I managed to crawl away.  The conflict could not be waged honestly and privately between us. There was so much incredible hypocritical manipulation, it was shameless and ruthless.  And the rest of my primary family broke my heat but looking back today I realize they were profoundly under her thrall with fear as well.

The collateral damage of losing my family network whammied me during the separation period.  I became a sudden outlaw. I felt like I had been pushed out of a plane with no parachute. I wasn't strong enough to duke it out with my mother especially with others pressuring me on her behalf to do whatever it took to keep her happy -- to sacrifice myself. UBPD people are geniuses at using pity to manipulate others to act on their behalf. They poison the family network with their controllingness and neediness and mythology about deserving and having earned total devotion.

I relate to what you say about the complex-PTSD and how haunting it is to see some of the dysfunctional traits of my mother come out in my own life even after so many years of recovery. 

Thank God our scenarios people are becoming more and more familiar with and that we survivors can help each with a challenging but precious recovery.

best, bethanny

[Forever to Roam]

Welcome CeliaBea.

Your story is heartbreakingly similar to my own. You are not alone here.

It's tough when even good friends can say things like that. I had a friend say something similar to me when I told them about going NC with my family, "You should never close that door between your and your folks." Well, guess what... .I closed the door, and I do not regret it.

Anyway, long intros are expected - this is a core part of the story that has shaped your life and why you are here. It took courage for you to post it and there is no need to apologize for it.

Forever

[Turkish]

I never thought of my need for solitude as being a trait that I picked up rather than part of my personality born. My mom adopted me at 2.4 years of age. She noticed quickly that I often played by myself, and even didn't come to her when I got hurt. My FOO before BPD mom was a birth mother who was likely FAS, a drug addict and perhaps abusive to me as a baby. After my parents gave me up, I went from grandparents (with an adoptive young aunt around who had her own issues), into foster care. In writing that, no doubt it had a lot to do with my need to "recharge" being by myself.

FWIW, I've been stuck between 19-20... .for almost two decades. My 6 year r/s with uBPDx really tore the scar tissue off.

[CeliaBea]

Hi Bethany,

Thanks so much for your reply! It's really helpful to read that others have similar experiences; at the same time, it's heartbreaking.

You wrote,

"I was stunned that my mother couldn't let the struggle between us stay private but she immediately righteously began assassinating my character to anyone and everyone, and she postured as someone who was so wonderful and heartbroken and suddenly maliciously wounded and that I must have gone crazy the way I was treating her. She postured hurt confusion.  She was gaslighting me and letting it ricochet all about within our mutual social network."

That must have been very difficult to deal with. Have you tried to "set the record straight" and tell people in your network your side of things? I found it near impossible to even talk about what lead to the complete breakdown and the termination of all contact; there was a wall of silence and denial. Only my two godmothers, who know my mother and got to see her dark side, believed and supported me.

"I wrongly assumed she would calm down in a reasonable amount of time and we could deal with it one on one, and she never did.  All the secrets I had kept all the years about the tension and dysfunction of an alcoholic family. She brought an angry letter I had written about her and my father to relatives to show them how mean I was being."

Horrible. I don't even know what my mother's done since I broke off contact, but I assume it's similar. A couple of cousins I had contact with years ago no longer talk to me; I can imagine what my mother told them—that I am heartless, ungrateful, evil. After all she's done for me   

"There was no going back with any reasonable resolution or even loosening of the leash.  After so much investment in walking on eggs, one wrong assertive modest step and it was OVER and the punishment was unexpected of her in expanding it so publicly. I recognized finally and fully what degree of fear i felt for my mother and how lacking in serious appreciation for our relationship she had.  I finally recognized it had no stress resilience and had been shallow and brittle.  I had rationalized my obsequiousness to her as my pity and generosity and a serious degree of an assumption I had of reciprocity of respect between us.  I couldn't minimize the enormous raw fear I felt for her any longer despite the roller coaster visits to "nice mommy". Nice mommy's appearances required Stepford Bethanny stoking."

Yup, exactly. I've come to realize that as well—that I used to be afraid of her, of how destructive she could be. I also used to worry a lot about her, because of her depression, occasional binge-drinking, self-medicating, and her "illnesses" (true or faked?) about which she talks a lot, mostly, I think, to elicit pity and get attention. I now know how much energy, nerves, and strength I wasted trying to repair our relationship. I'm no longer willing to do that, and although it hurts to see clearly how bad things are, that I never actually had a loving mother, I feel pretty liberated. I can focus on more rewarding relationships and endeavours!

"I could have crawled back with an even shorter leash, but I managed to crawl away.  The conflict could not be waged honestly and privately between us. There was so much incredible hypocritical manipulation, it was shameless and ruthless.  And the rest of my primary family broke my heat but looking back today I realize they were profoundly under her thrall with fear as well."

Yes—just like my family. Everything used to run through her, before I broke off contact: she jealously controlled how often I talked to my brother, for example, or my father. It's extremely difficult trying to establish any kind of "normal" contact, most likely, because all of our family relationships have never been "free" or "normal" to begin with.

"The collateral damage of losing my family network whammied me during the separation period.  I became a sudden outlaw. I felt like I had been pushed out of a plane with no parachute. I wasn't strong enough to duke it out with my mother especially with others pressuring me on her behalf to do whatever it took to keep her happy -- to sacrifice myself. UBPD people are geniuses at using pity to manipulate others to act on their behalf. They poison the family network with their controllingness and neediness and mythology about deserving and having earned total devotion."

Yes, that sounds very familiar... .

"I relate to what you say about the complex-PTSD and how haunting it is to see some of the dysfunctional traits of my mother come out in my own life even after so many years of recovery. 

Thank God our scenarios people are becoming more and more familiar with and that we survivors can help each with a challenging but precious recovery."

Yes, that's true: there is help, and awareness is growing.

Bethany, you sound like you've come a long way already! I wish you lots of strength and resilience.

Best,

Celia

[CeliaBea]

Hi Forever,

Thanks for the Welcome! It's good to know I'm not alone. I've read a number of posts in this forum and am just stunned at the similarities… those who have relatively healthy and loving parents probably can't relate at all and imagine what we go through.

You sound like you've found a good way of dealing with your family—it's great to read that you closed the door, and don't regret it. Neither do I—the only thing I regret is that I didn't break off contact much, much earlier! And all I feel guilty about is that I don't feel guilty. Just relieved.

Best,

Celia

[CeliaBea]

Hi Turkish,

What you write about your early childhood experiences sounds really tough! I'm sorry. I think you are right—it makes perfect sense that you'd want alone-time to recharge. For me, although what I experienced isn't as extreme, it's probably similar.

I wasn't given up for adoption, but when I was a baby, my mother gave me away for weeks and then months; she was so depressed and overwhelmed with having to look after her two older kids and baby-me that she gave us to an acquaintance, who looked after us. I also know that my mother starved herself during all three pregnancies (she has an eating disorder), and that she fell down the stairs a month before I was supposed to be born… she had to be rushed to hospital and the birth was induced… I can remember none of that, of course, but wonder how such early (even in utero) experiences shape us…

C

[Tiredbride313]

Hi CeliaBea,

Your history is so much like mine. Spent many years being the GC until all hell broke loose and now I don't speak to my PD parents. I think I'm still very much grieving in the sense that I'll never have normal, loving parents, and I also feel that I am overly sensitive and have the need to withdraw sometimes. My husband, in-laws, and a core group of close friends completely know the situation and never ask questions. I feel comfortable and safe around them. However, I always cringe in situations with people I don't know as well, especially when there is general conversation about their parents, because I don't want anyone to ask about mine.

It's upsetting and invalidating when well-meaning friends and family members say things like what you mentioned. I'm still working on a concise, but polite, response to such questions. You're so right that people hold motherhood to a high regard. People don't question why I don't speak to my uNPD father, but sometimes I'm encouraged to "keep the door open" when it comes to my uBPD mother. However, my father has complete control over her. Even if I wanted to have a relationship with her (which I don't), I don't see how that would happen with him in the picture  - I tried that route a few times only to have it go nowhere. To most people, parents are the ones who love you unconditionally no matter what. To us, our parents are the people who have abused us and hurt us to the core. Most people don't understand and can never relate because they have or are stable, loving parents. Explaining the chaos to them is impossible. I have a rather negative view of parenthood thanks to my parents, and I want to be able to move past that.

All I can say is welcome - you're in the company of people who understand! 

[GreenGlit]

Hey Celia,

You are definitely not alone here on this forum. I can relate to your description of your upbringing. I learned through a psychiatry rotation in medical school that my mother fit every diagnostic criteria of BPD. She was overbearing, overprotective, and isolated me from my friends because she was "protecting me." She would frequently tell me that she loved me "more than anyone else in your life EVER will," and at the same time would keep me on such a tight leash, it was suffocating. I was taught to suppress my own feelings because I had to meet my mother's emotional needs constantly. She was easy to anger and to rage, and while her anger was somewhat unpredictable, it was severe. I was always placating her and so I had to put my own feelings aside. When I reached an age that I became more independent and wanted to explore the world around me, my mother would tell me what I wanted was wrong and that I was being ungrateful not staying emotionally closer to her.

I have come a long way through therapy, but much of what you describe you experience emotionally I also share. I am very sensitive, I think because my mother modeled for me a perspective that had her flying off the handle on a whim. I have trouble trusting others because whenever I received a gift or gesture from my mother, it always came with a price/obligation/expectation. I have difficulties accepting kindness from my friends because I fear it is a secret contract for a future obligation. All of this I firmly believe is based on the behavior my mother modeled and the fear I projected from her to the other people in my life.

When I tell people stories about my mother's anger, people either think I'm grossly exaggerating or I'm only telling half the story. In college my friends would tell me, "when your mom calls you for the 15th time in an hour (not exaggerating here), just tell her to stop calling and quit it." I foolishly tried that once - when I refused to answer, she called the cops on me and they searched my dorm room (you can imagine the mortification I experienced). My life was just so different than most other people, and I felt very alone. I have limited contact with her now because of the destabilization she brings into my life. So yes - I as well as many people here can so relate.

I'm glad you had the strength to stand up for your own emotional needs even if it came at the cost of a closer relationship with your mother. It sounds like you have built a fulfilling life around you. Welcome to the forum