Hi Sister2,
I wanted to join heartandwhole and welcome you to the BPD Family
It sounds like you are having a rough time with your brother at the moment. I hope you remember to take care of you too during all of this, self care can be so helpful.
Can you tell us more of your story when you have the chance? It sounds like you've been aware of BPD for sometime. Please let us know how we can support you.
Hi, and thank you and heartandwhole for the welcome. My situation is so very complicated. I'm not sure what to share. But I'll try without too much rambling.
My mother was not diagnosed with BPD; however, I didn't need a professional to figure it out. I learned about the label BPD when my grown son shared with me a few paragraphs out of his text for nursing college. He had to dabble in personality disorders during his training. Once I learned there was a name for her condition, I went online and purchased about 7 books on the subject. The first book was "How to Survive a Borderline Parent." I felt the author was writing about my life. I almost passed out the firs time I read a few chapters of it.
My mother passed about 6 years ago. I truly can't even tell you the year. However, I do recall the relief I felt upon her passing. She lived such a hellish, tormented life. I felt it was a blessing she passed and hoped she didn't take her mental state with her. I also felt tremendous relief, because I thought (at the time) I'd never have to deal with BPD behaviors ever again.
I was wrong. My brother literally came knocking on my front door, holding a number of prescriptions bottles, shaking like a leaf and begging me to look online to learn about the drugs he was taking. One of them was Klonopin, a Benzedrine.
My brother and I were never close, nor were we close to our older sister. My mom made certain that we were her sun, and we, the siblings, evolved around her, never coming into meaningful contact with one another. My mother taught us that she was the center of our universe and she was to be the wind beneath our wings. We needed no one but her. Around 35-ish, I sought therapy. I went through 6 therapists, because I didn't like what they told me. I felt so disloyal to my mother to talk about her. But therapist #6, a psychologist, guided me off and on for the next 10 years. I finally got over feeling guilty about how really felt about her - my mother.
So... back to my brother knocking on my door and asking about researching the medications he was on. I learned through his psychiatrist that he'd been taking Benzos and antidepressants for over 10 years and they began to have adverse reactions - making him more depressed and more anxious than when he initially went on them. There's more to this part, but I'll spare you the details.
He was homeless at the time, lost his business, couldn't work because of his severe symptoms from the medications. He'd been living with different friends. We, my husband and I, let him move in with us to help him get back on his feet. His rages, his sense of entitlement and not really living up to his end of the agreement, we told him he'd have to leave. He existed our home yelling, slamming doors and shouting profanity that would make a gangster blush. In a 10-year period, he has lived with us on two separate occasions, both ended in a raging exist.
In May 2017, his ex girlfriend notified my dad, who lives in another state, that my brother was on the verge on being truly homeless - as in sleeping on the streets. My brother and dad are not close (thanks to my mom). My dad calls me to say, "We can't let him sleep on the streets; we will have to find him a place to say, but not at your home." "We" means me. So with my dad's financial resources we purchased him a nice trailer, found a RV park for him to live, pay his rent and utilities and any basic needs. He gets some kind of food stamps, but it's not much.
Currently, my brother calls me about 5 to 6 times a day, leaving me voice mails, because I screen his calls. He also texts me a lot, too. He is usually telling me all the ways he is going to kill himself, begs me to let him move back in with us (extreme sense of loneliness). I realize that he is experiencing severe symptoms withdrawing off medications (yes, he went back on them again). Now he is tapering off.
How can this group help? It helps reading other people's posts. I don't feel so alone. My friends and husband get tired of hearing me talk about the situation. They think I should just turn my back on him.
I'm sucking at self-care. But I'm slowly making changes - putting me first.
Oh, and too, my brother refuses to get help. My dad was paying for a therapist. He went for about 2 months and said it didn't help. He just got out of a 3-day facility, because he cut himself on the arm deeply. Ex-girlfriend called 911 and he was taken to this facility.
I've written far too much already. Thanks for reading if you've gotten this far.
