My journey of learning the specifics of this disorder began when I sought help to deal with my adult daughter cutting me out of her life and the lives of my two precious grandchildren. The viscous text (yes, she broke up with me in a text
), attacking my life, my character and all actions past and present was totally unexpected and blindsided me completely. You see we seemed to finally be at a place of Peace in our relationship. I couldn't understand how she could feel that my very existence on this earth was Toxic to her and her family.
The Back Story:
To respect her privacy I will call her Princess Girl here, my personal affectionate name for her given when she was first born into my life. Our struggles began in early adolescence. I thought it was simply the hormones and growing pains experienced by all families. We are from a small community with a close circle of friends of similar faith and child rearing beliefs. As mothers us women often shared the challenges of raising our spirited wonderful children. It wasn't until mid-teens that I started recognizing that my daughters challenges were exhibiting at a different level of extremity. Still I wasn't worried, I thought it was something she would grow out of with time.
We adopted our beautiful Princess Girl at birth. We discovered early in our marriage that I was unable to have children. This precious girl was a true gift from God and blessed our life tremendously. From the beginning she delightfully reacted to life with such personality. We used to affectionately joke about how it was either full belly laughs or huge crocodile tears.
The details of the roller coaster of events from early adolescence to our current situation roll around in my head and heart constantly. I am surrounded by truly loving, truly supportive, truly accepting friend families that God has placed in my life to help me through my journey with Princess Girl. Yet I still feel so alone in my situation.
I have been in counseling since my daughter turned 14 and my marriage started to implode. It wasn't until she was 17 that I finally found a counselor that was right for me and my various situations in dealing with a husband that had turned to addictions and a daughter that was loving one minute and hating me the next. It was a long torturous journey that resulted in divorce. During all of this the love/hate pattern with my daughter continued. Everyone said, she will grow out of it. She will mature when she becomes a mother. Maybe if you try this, maybe if you try that. Nothing worked.
Current circumstances :
When my oldest grandson was born 4 1/2 years ago it felt like a true blessing into our lives. My daughters situation was not ideal. She had just come out of drug rehabilitation and entered into an abusive relationship with my grandsons birth father. Her love and protective instinct for her son gave her what she needed to end that relationship and start a journey of healing and maturing. I was a constant part of their lives from my grandsons birth until six months ago. Though she still suffered from anxiety and depression and we had many episodes of discord between us they seemed to grow fewer and farther between and I really thought we were on the road to a better future. She married a man who appears to truly love her and my heart was fully uplifted as she seemed happy for the first time since childhood. My prayers were being answered and though they had moved out of state I was still very present in their lives. My circumstances allowed me to visit often and spend a week at a time visiting. I was so excited to see her happy and we talked frequently through face time. While she still experienced episodes of anxiety and depression she was working the tools provided by her rehabilitation counselors and infrequent visits to my counselor. Her new husband seemed to understand and appeared to be very supportive.
The roller coaster intensified when she became pregnant with my second grandson. I encouraged her to seek help and tried to continue to be a constant support. My second grandson was born last August and is a wonderful blessing to our family. I was fortunate enough to be able to base my work in her home state for the entire month of August to assist with my older grandson during her final month of pregnancy and the birth of his baby brother. There were many signs of strain, stress and anxiety in my daughter. I truly thought my presence was helping. With the blinders of hope firmly in place I thought it would all work out once the hormones settled and the new pattern of their little family were in place. Then my son-in-law lost his job. I continued to offer as much support as I was able but it was never enough. I was told to quit trying to fix her and butt out. She was an adult and they would work it out. I apologized and agreed to just be there for her and that I would rely on her to let me know what she needed when.
Then came the viscous text. Accusing me of never being there for her, not caring about her situation, not being concerned if she became homeless. Attacking my faith, my life my very existence. In her mind I was a toxic person and she was cutting me out of her life forever. I was devastated. For months I tried to figure out what I had done wrong. I tried to figure out how I could help her. I was so deeply hurt and with hurt came anger. Anger turned to hopelessness and deep depression. I begged God daily for help. My friend family gathered around in support. I worked my tools from past counseling. One day I took one of my regular hikes in a favorite spot along the river that always brought me peace and where I felt close to God. I looked down into a deep gorge and contemplated what it would be like to just jump, to go be with Jesus now and not live this nightmare anymore. Thanks be to God His will prevailed. I was listening to my music and Amazing Grace came on, a turning point of recognition that I couldn't power through this, I called my counselor the next day and reinstated my personal therapy. My counselor asked me a series of questions about my past relationship with my daughter. The answers to some of which he already knew from previous sessions. When I described the interim happenings he recommended the book Borderline Personality Disorder Demystified by Doctor Robert O. Friedel.
I am still at the beginning of this journey of learning about this disorder. In reading the first few chapters of this book it was like reading my own story. I wore out my highlighter. I filled pages of my notebook with questions. My counselor is helping me to understand my role in this to the best of his ability. If you are here and reading this you already know the overwhelming feelings I am experiencing as you are having the same or similar experiences. This disorder has so many changing facets it becomes almost impossible to define. How to help, how to cope has become the new roller coaster of questions. One day I find hope, the next despair. Being a woman of strong faith in God I am learning new levels of trust. I am learning to share my story in the hope that it will be of help to others while also strengthening me. While my friends are supportive the stigma of mental illness interlaces itself into our conversations. I battle self doubt often.
We are coming up on the six month anniversary of that text. It so happens the anniversary is falling on Mother's Day weekend. On the day my younger grandson turns 9 months old. The dread of this milestone is what started me pouring out my story on this site. I have not spoken with my beautiful Princess Girl since receiving that text. Nor have I seen my grandchildren. The situation haunts every moment of every day. Some days are better than others but it's always there.
As you may have noted my subject for this is "my story part1". My user name is Lovethem2. You see my story is not just about my daughter. For the past year I have been trying to be supportive of another beloved adult child who touches my life. He was caught in a house fire and shortly thereafter his wife left him. As his story has slowly revealed itself over time I have been drawn closer to his circumstances. He had come across the descriptions of BPD some time ago and been told by a "therapist" it wasn't real and that he was just depressed and suffered from anxiety. This relationship is what has helped me in recognizing the different ways and levels this disorder exhibits.
For now I must step back and bring this to a close. The emotions churning while I have been writing this need a break. Time to meditate, pray and restore. The story of the nephew I helped raise is for another time.
