Introducing myself. I think my mother had BPD

[Our abuse recovery guide]

Hello to everyone here. I'm coming over from the son/daughter board. My 18 year old daughter had BPD, diagnosed unofficially by her former T. In trying to learn how best to deal with her, I realized that, especially recently, I've been overreacting to certain behaviors of hers. Mostly they involve her bf, and they involve her lying and manipulating me. Last night pushed me over the edge.  And while I've been thinking about this since summer, I realized without a doubt that I need to deal with the probability that my mother, dead now 40 years, had BPD.

Over the summer there were times when my daughter was heading out and said she'd be back at midnight. Then she'd text to let me know she wasn't coming home, she'd be staying over at the bf's house (his parents not only allow it, they encourage it, but that's another issue). One time she didn't remember to text. I completely lost it, crying and screaming. Well, last week she said she broke up with the bf, wouldn't see him over winter break. Now she's home (they go to the same college and he lives near us), and she got bored. So last night I saw her sitting in skimpy underwear playing with her hair and face timing him. Then she said she was going out with him today for "breakfast." I asked if they were back together. She said no, they were going as friends. I asked if she thought that was a good idea, then. She blew up, screamed that she could do what she wants, and then I blew up and said maybe she needed to find another place to live. I know I was wrong and shouldn't have said that, but I knew she was lying to me. Of course, breakfast turned into staying the night, because she "was scared by my yelling."

So I know that neither of us acted mature, but I also know that I overreacted. Her lying to me triggered me, and I know that I need to deal with the memories of the family I grew up in. (I did apologize in a text to her, and those on the son/daughter board know that I don't always overreact this way.)

Since the summer, through reading about both BPD and trauma, I started thinking that maybe my mother had BPD. Then I read the book about the borderline mother, and there was no longer any doubt. I hesitated posting here, because my mother has been dead for 40 years. It's not like there's any question of contact. But she's in my head. And it's affecting how I deal with my daughter.

Details about my mother have been coming back to me. I remembered that she, a writer, often talked about suicide in her writings. Then I remembered that she actually attempted suicide once. I was called by mother's friend to come over -- I think my mother had gone to the friend's house, but I don't remember. I was asked to come over and help her. My mother had apparently taken some kind of pills. I said no, and then I said something like it wasn't my job to help her, it was her job to help me. I must have been about 14 or 15 at the time. My mother lived through that.  I felt revolted, disgusted by my mother doing that.

My father died when I was 18 and my brother was 15. I found something my mother wrote (she was a writer) where she described her marriage to my father as "twenty years of bondage" and then she described her attraction to my brother's friend. My mother was close to 60, and the friend was about 18 at the time. They actually went on trips together. This disgusted me. My brother, who knows way more than I do, started telling me some details, and I honestly had to stop listening.

My mother did not seem to have a stable personality. Even as a child, I could tell who she was talking to on the phone because she would take on their inflection and use of words. She was not grounded in reality. She believed in Santa Claus. She worked as the Easter Bunny at the mall at least one year.  She didn't protect us. It was always all about her.

My mother lied to me a lot. Her last words to me were a lie. She told me she was going to visit a friend in another state. While she was away, I was called to the phone. The police told me that she died of a heart attack. She'd been on a trip with my brother's friend, who was 22 at the time.

I'm sorry if I've written too much. I don't know how to explain it. The thing is, I'm realizing now that I'm reacting to my daughter as if she were my mother. I cannot bear to be lied to by someone close to me. Tomorrow I go to the airport to pick up my 25 year old nonBPD son who is working on a Ph.D. in London. I should be really happy. Instead I am so upset over the interaction with my daughter and cannot stop crying. I know that even though all this with my mother happened many years ago, I need to work through it. With my daughter away at college, things had been going well, and I'd stopped looking for a new T. I know now that I need to work through this FOO stuff with a good T. In the mean time, it helps to know that there are others out there with similar issues. And thank you to anyone who read through it all.
2Crazy Cats

[twocrazycats]

Hello to everyone here. I'm coming over from the son/daughter board. My 18 year old daughter had BPD, diagnosed unofficially by her former T. In trying to learn how best to deal with her, I realized that, especially recently, I've been overreacting to certain behaviors of hers. Mostly they involve her bf, and they involve her lying and manipulating me. Last night pushed me over the edge.  And while I've been thinking about this since summer, I realized without a doubt that I need to deal with the probability that my mother, dead now 40 years, had BPD.

Over the summer there were times when my daughter was heading out and said she'd be back at midnight. Then she'd text to let me know she wasn't coming home, she'd be staying over at the bf's house (his parents not only allow it, they encourage it, but that's another issue). One time she didn't remember to text. I completely lost it, crying and screaming. Well, last week she said she broke up with the bf, wouldn't see him over winter break. Now she's home (they go to the same college and he lives near us), and she got bored. So last night I saw her sitting in skimpy underwear playing with her hair and face timing him. Then she said she was going out with him today for "breakfast." I asked if they were back together. She said no, they were going as friends. I asked if she thought that was a good idea, then. She blew up, screamed that she could do what she wants, and then I blew up and said maybe she needed to find another place to live. I know I was wrong and shouldn't have said that, but I knew she was lying to me. Of course, breakfast turned into staying the night, because she "was scared by my yelling."

So I know that neither of us acted mature, but I also know that I overreacted. Her lying to me triggered me, and I know that I need to deal with the memories of the family I grew up in. (I did apologize in a text to her, and those on the son/daughter board know that I don't always overreact this way.)

Since the summer, through reading about both BPD and trauma, I started thinking that maybe my mother had BPD. Then I read the book about the borderline mother, and there was no longer any doubt. I hesitated posting here, because my mother has been dead for 40 years. It's not like there's any question of contact. But she's in my head. And it's affecting how I deal with my daughter.

Details about my mother have been coming back to me. I remembered that she, a writer, often talked about suicide in her writings. Then I remembered that she actually attempted suicide once. I was called by mother's friend to come over -- I think my mother had gone to the friend's house, but I don't remember. I was asked to come over and help her. My mother had apparently taken some kind of pills. I said no, and then I said something like it wasn't my job to help her, it was her job to help me. I must have been about 14 or 15 at the time. My mother lived through that.  I felt revolted, disgusted by my mother doing that.

My father died when I was 18 and my brother was 15. I found something my mother wrote (she was a writer) where she described her marriage to my father as "twenty years of bondage" and then she described her attraction to my brother's friend. My mother was close to 60, and the friend was about 18 at the time. They actually went on trips together. This disgusted me. My brother, who knows way more than I do, started telling me some details, and I honestly had to stop listening.

My mother did not seem to have a stable personality. Even as a child, I could tell who she was talking to on the phone because she would take on their inflection and use of words. She was not grounded in reality. She believed in Santa Claus. She worked as the Easter Bunny at the mall at least one year.  She didn't protect us. It was always all about her.

My mother lied to me a lot. Her last words to me were a lie. She told me she was going to visit a friend in another state. While she was away, I was called to the phone. The police told me that she died of a heart attack. She'd been on a trip with my brother's friend, who was 22 at the time.

I'm sorry if I've written too much. I don't know how to explain it. The thing is, I'm realizing now that I'm reacting to my daughter as if she were my mother. I cannot bear to be lied to by someone close to me. Tomorrow I go to the airport to pick up my 25 year old nonBPD son who is working on a Ph.D. in London. I should be really happy. Instead I am so upset over the interaction with my daughter and cannot stop crying. I know that even though all this with my mother happened many years ago, I need to work through it. With my daughter away at college, things had been going well, and I'd stopped looking for a new T. I know now that I need to work through this FOO stuff with a good T. In the mean time, it helps to know that there are others out there with similar issues. And thank you to anyone who read through it all.
2Crazy Cats

[pursuingJoy]

2CC, welcome to PSI! It sounds like you've made some really important realizations lately. It can feel like a lot at first. I'm hoping you can take a moment today to step back temporarily, take a breath and enjoy seeing your son when he arrives today!

It sounds like you're aware of your own triggers, which is great. I think you're very wise to accept that your mom's behavior impacts the decisions you make as a mom, and even more wise to want to understand how to unravel it so that you can break the cycle. I applaud you for wanting to pursue these thoughts with a good T.   

Thanks for sharing. You're not alone.
pj

[zachira]

My heart goes out to you hearing how you have suffered having a mother with BPD. It does not matter if she has been dead for 40 years; there will always be tremendous sorrow about having a mother that was so unable to be there for her children and did so many harmful things. You are probably thinking about your mother now because you are now ready to face how you and others have been affected by the things she did. My mother with BPD died this summer. Do try to balance taking time to grieve the losses from having a mother with BPD while taking time to appreciate what you have accomplished despite having a mother with BPD. We are here to listen and support you. Many of us often post on PSI when we need a safe place to express our feelings and concerns about having a mother with BPD.

[Turkish]

The thing is, I'm realizing now that I'm reacting to my daughter as if she were my mother. I cannot bear to be lied to by someone close to me.

The story about your mother and your brother's friend implies a possible salacious story.  Who wouldn't be triggered by that?

Even though this is a painful memory, this is but a pattern of your remembrance of feeling that your mother invalidated  you, yes?

She didn't protect us. It was always all about her.

How didn't she protect you?

[twocrazycats]

The story about your mother and your brother's friend implies a possible salacious story.  Who wouldn't be triggered by that?

Even though this is a painful memory, this is but a pattern of your remembrance of feeling that your mother invalidated  you, yes?

How didn't she protect you?

The story about my mother and my brother's friend more than implies a possible salacious story. It WAS a salacious story. She wrote about her desire for him, thinly disguised as fiction by giving different names to the parties involved. Also, my brother started telling me some details, and I had to change the conversation. I honestly couldn't bear to hear it. This was my MOTHER, for heaven's sake! And of course, my brother doesn't see a whole lot wrong with it. "She was a good mother to me," he says. In that "fiction" she calls me "the judge." I was about 21 at the time and wanted nothing more than a normal family.

How did she not protect me? Mostly it was a matter of her seeming to not even be aware that she had children. She went about her life, and we were just there. My father was the one who at least provided some structure. Two specific incidents I remember: when I was not yet five years old, on my first day of kindergarten, I had no idea where to go to get on the bus to go home at the end of the day (I guess I was also invisible to the school staff). So I stayed in the classroom and paced back and forth along the tiled floor, thinking, "if anyone really wants me back, they'll come and get me." Now if one of my children had not showed up after school on their first day of kindergarten, I probably would have had a heart attack. But not my mother. It was my grandmother who became concerned, contacted the school, and the principal or some similar authority brought me home. My grandmother was seriously, visibly upset. My mother, nothing. Not even angry. Just nothing.

The other incident happened when I was 12 and my brother was 9. I had just started attending school at the junior/senior high school, which was for grades 7-12. We lived walking distance to the school. One afternoon after we had come home from school, I walked back with my brother to my new school to show it to him. We were in one of the classrooms writing on the board, when I looked over to the door and saw a man wearing ragged looking jeans standing there staring at us. I could tell from the look in his eyes that he was up to no good. I motioned to my brother to leave. We managed to run out past him and start running down the hallway to get out. Now the building was designed with all kinds of turns, not straight, but since it was my school, I knew where to go. The man started running after us and shouted "you can't get out, there's no door down there!" I told my brother yes, there was a door, and to keep running. We ran as fast as we could and got out of the building and ran all the way home. We were obviously very upset when we got home. My mother's reaction when I told her what happened? "Oh, really?" Nothing more than that.

I know that there's more, but I don't have much memory of much of the time. I thought through some of it years ago in therapy, but this situation with my daughter has just brought it all back on a whole new level.

Thanks for asking.
2CC