Identical Twin w/Borderline Features

[Our abuse recovery guide]

Hi, all, and glad to be here. I registered for the site long ago and got great help dealing with my uBPD mother. Now I need better perspective on my relationship with my identical twin, diagnosed years ago with borderline features. It's lonely and hard to accept the increasing emotional distance between us, even though it's a relief not to have constant exposure to her struggling. I think life is easier for her when she's around 12-step program folks and other friends who have never been deeply hurt by her behavior patterns, or have enough invested in the relationship to care so much.  

I miss the bond we had as babies and little children and have, for decades, pretended we still have -- where we would always accept and support each other unconditionally. In adult life, this becomes almost impossible. And neither of us has been able to accept that reality with grace and patience. She's angry at me and avoiding me because I spoke my truth about her self-absorption...and I'm disappointed and hurt that she doesn't have the bandwidth to really be a friend.
I always imagined that we'd be close into old age, and be there for each other. But things have taken a turn I never wanted to imagine...It was too painful. Feeling so separate from an identical twin with whom you were once so close -- even if a very long time ago -- is like being banished from the Garden of Eden. Losing that "perfect" connection you had even before birth, and that was so comforting in childhood. It's so very hard to explain things to singletons!

Her life is completely consumed with "her recovery," recovery jargon and references, and over-identifying with having "a fatal disease" (alcoholism). She's obsessive about food and weight. She has to be in bed by 9:30 p.m. No conversation can happen without these and other elements of her obsessive self-absorption. So often in my head, I'm thinking, "Recovery is for life. Life isn't for recovery." Healing from trauma is a wonderful and necessary thing...I'm working on it myself. Yet that kind of unremitting self-focus can't possibly be healthy. Maybe I'm just resentful because it leaves her no room for me.  

I guess I didn't understand how very much she has struggled, when I thought things were getting better. In fact, in middle age, financial and health pressures seem to have brought her BPD features out even more.

I wish we could talk about each needing more space -- as we continue to be loving, but in a new way -- instead of her effectively cutting me off and fading away without saying anything. Her 12-step sponsor, with whom she talks every single day (even though sober for almost 30 years), and her daughter have replaced me as her daily sources of connection, support, and attention.  

I love DS more than anything but feel so angry at her for hurting me and "abandoning me." This happened a long time ago because of her illness, I see. I want to fix her, but I can't. This is not what I wanted for her life or for mine. My reactivity to her is making me sad and uncertain. I feel like I've lost the primary attachment of my whole life, though I have had one loving (late) husband and wonderful hubby now. Like a limb has been severed. 

Enough for first post in a long time. I have a lot to be thankful for this Thanksgiving. Yet feeling like a mess. Thanks so much for listening.

[BabeRuthless]

Hi, all, and glad to be here. I registered for the site long ago and got great help dealing with my uBPD mother. Now I need better perspective on my relationship with my identical twin, diagnosed years ago with borderline features. It's lonely and hard to accept the increasing emotional distance between us, even though it's a relief not to have constant exposure to her struggling. I think life is easier for her when she's around 12-step program folks and other friends who have never been deeply hurt by her behavior patterns, or have enough invested in the relationship to care so much.  

I miss the bond we had as babies and little children and have, for decades, pretended we still have -- where we would always accept and support each other unconditionally. In adult life, this becomes almost impossible. And neither of us has been able to accept that reality with grace and patience. She's angry at me and avoiding me because I spoke my truth about her self-absorption...and I'm disappointed and hurt that she doesn't have the bandwidth to really be a friend.
I always imagined that we'd be close into old age, and be there for each other. But things have taken a turn I never wanted to imagine...It was too painful. Feeling so separate from an identical twin with whom you were once so close -- even if a very long time ago -- is like being banished from the Garden of Eden. Losing that "perfect" connection you had even before birth, and that was so comforting in childhood. It's so very hard to explain things to singletons!

Her life is completely consumed with "her recovery," recovery jargon and references, and over-identifying with having "a fatal disease" (alcoholism). She's obsessive about food and weight. She has to be in bed by 9:30 p.m. No conversation can happen without these and other elements of her obsessive self-absorption. So often in my head, I'm thinking, "Recovery is for life. Life isn't for recovery." Healing from trauma is a wonderful and necessary thing...I'm working on it myself. Yet that kind of unremitting self-focus can't possibly be healthy. Maybe I'm just resentful because it leaves her no room for me.  

I guess I didn't understand how very much she has struggled, when I thought things were getting better. In fact, in middle age, financial and health pressures seem to have brought her BPD features out even more.

I wish we could talk about each needing more space -- as we continue to be loving, but in a new way -- instead of her effectively cutting me off and fading away without saying anything. Her 12-step sponsor, with whom she talks every single day (even though sober for almost 30 years), and her daughter have replaced me as her daily sources of connection, support, and attention.  

I love DS more than anything but feel so angry at her for hurting me and "abandoning me." This happened a long time ago because of her illness, I see. I want to fix her, but I can't. This is not what I wanted for her life or for mine. My reactivity to her is making me sad and uncertain. I feel like I've lost the primary attachment of my whole life, though I have had one loving (late) husband and wonderful hubby now. Like a limb has been severed. 

Enough for first post in a long time. I have a lot to be thankful for this Thanksgiving. Yet feeling like a mess. Thanks so much for listening.

[Kula]

I have a sister who's only a year younger than I and we were constantly mistaken for twins. Our childhood was really chaotic and always changing. The one and only constant was my sister. Yes we fought a lot. But we also spent endless hours playing, plotting, planning and daydreaming together. We were stuck together, we rarely had friends because we moved so much and our parents weren't available.

But I've slowly come to realize how different we are.  It's like she's stuck in her teens and hasn't matured. She tries to make me feel inferior, her ego is fragile and everything's still a competition. She still wants me around but I don't think I can take her anymore. She uses me. She uses everybody in the family.  Even her children are a big inconvenience. I can't stand how she uses them for her entertainment. She's not genuine. The way she treats her friends, they're not close friends really - they're drinking friends, is totally different than how she treats family.  I stopped talking to her about a month ago. I don't think she'll  change. I think it's possible she may be NPD.

That person who I thought was my sister doesn't exist anymore. Maybe she never really did. It's a huge, huge loss for me and I'm grieving. My partner in crime is gone. And I spent my childhood with someone I now think I didn't truly know or understand.

I can't even imagine how you're feeling as a twin. I'm just trying to struggle through it. Letting go is so hard.