My Insane Life With My Single, Bdp Mother

I am a 32 year old child of a borderline has taken a brilliant therapist to diagnose her without any contact with her...she is a direct result of my depression, anxiety, and past self-destructive behavior...I am currently reading "Understanding the Borderline Mother" and it has brought up some painful repressed memories, but definitely worth the read...also "Zen and the Art of Happiness" has brought me some peace and helped me to slowly let go of the intense anger and resentment I have toward my my therapist says - borderlines will NEVER admit their part in any situation....well, F*** her...I refuse to let her hurt me's my responsibility now to address the hurt she will never know she has caused me...we haven't spoken in months and she keeps sending me photo albums to prove that she was a wonderful mom....what a joke...I also hand-wrote a heartfelt letter full of questions - not a nasty letter at all...she did not answer any of the questions except "did I have a happy childhood" - I asked because I blocked out my physical and emotional abuse at the hands of my single mom....she wrote me back a TYPED letter (really personal, right?) emphasizing how cherished I was...and blah, blah, blah....she was a marketing executive - and it shone through in this letter...I xeroxed the initial letter I wrote and asked her again to answer some questions...guess what came in the mail....ANOTHER photo album and a typed version of my questions for ME to answer....oh, my....

She had a business partner who has become a close friend of mine....she described an experience in which she witnessed my mother forcing me to ***** naked while she beat me with a hair brush....repressed that one! psyche remembers a lot of physical abuse now....I've always recalled wondering who was going to walk in the door after work....I was absolutely terrified of her....emotional abuse was the normalcy I lived with...I grew up with guilt, confusion, and all the you all I'm sure can relate....I was also informed social services was called to my house - again no recollection of that either....

The wild thing with borderlines (she was a Queen borderline - from "Understanding the Borderline Mother") - they appear normal to the rest of the knew the torture I was going through....she was successful, beautiful, charming, etc....and, of course, as a child, I couldn't decipher that it was she mentally I grew up to be a drug addict, depressed, anxious, etc...

Thankfully now - with the help of rehab, my husband, my two amazing daughters....I have not repeated what has happened to me...I refuse to let her have that influence and control over me EVER again....I'm still struggling, but so so so much better than I was two years ago....

As a wise man told is full of ups and downs - hopefully more ups than downs - and the downs aren't too deep...nothing is too deep to's how we chose to perceive it after all....I'm sick of being a's time for me to woman up and be the mother to my children that I never had....
ilovestaplers ilovestaplers
17 Responses Jul 12, 2011

Thanks for your story, I have gne thourhg pretty much the same, but it´s harder for me to get over it.
I´m now a 36 severely depressed woman with several disorders, panic attacks, agoraphobia, OCD, PTSD, NPD, BDP, emotionally impaired, scared to death of life and full of shame, resentment and fear.

It started almost when I was born.
It runs in the genes. My mother is NDP and BPD, depressed, and violent.
My mother was constantly tormenting us, and making feel us worthless since early ages.
Had no patience, was violent to feed us, to handle basic childcare pulled our arms, our hair, looking at us like we were idiots.
At age 2, this is the one time I remember her “playing”, she played with me, she played she was dead, she pretended to be dead for a while enjoying and laughing at the hopeless reaction of a traumatized 2 year old. Other games included pretending she was a cold monster, looking at me with a sadist cold hate look. I pleaded to stop. Other games included improper touching, not sexually, but more of intrusive no boundaries, like I was a thing at her disposition to use. Or she would play “fight” and when she got it back he would scream at me like I was brutal (I was a tiny thing).
She was always in rage for any little thing, a glass that broke, or anything, and would beat me up.
Of course, she was always right, and if anybody dared to contradict her she would get verbally abusive and even physically.
At night she would leave with her boyfriend leaving us all alone and scared, I sat by the window (age 3 or 4) praying for her to come back, or imagining the decisions I would make if she didn´t and how I was going to take care of my younger sister (age 3).
A typical day she was all day in bed depressed and drugged with antidepressants, she sometimes wouldn´t come out at all for days, and when she did, she walked zombie like and gave me that look of I hate you, I despise you.
I remember coming back to school so many times, wondering if she would be dead or alive, very scared. She has some suicidal attempts in our home that we have to handle, there was no one around to rely on.
At 5 it was my first conscious time I wanted to commit suicide. I asked who my godfather was, we are taking about godfathers, and my mother cruelly and screaming said “you don´t have one and you won´t have one, he´s gone!! ” And her and my grandmother laughed at her answer. I had an anxiety attach and looked at the window thinking of jumping and that I would be more happy if I died, which I still think today.
The house was a mess, dirty, we had no food, she was negligent. She gave me money to go buy food late at night, in the city, I was 6 years old and scared to death, that gave me anxiety at the time. Even if I didn´t want to go she made me go anyways.
I was a little mother of my mother, but tormented, abused, humiliated, at all times.
At age 5 she called me to a meeting just the 2 of us, to tell me everything (very detailed) that she has gone through as child being the daughter of a psychotic mother. She told me amongst other things that my grandma tried to kill her own son. I was shocked and not prepared to listen to the most brutal truth at that age.
At home I did everything for her, cried with her, comforted her, combed her hair, told her I loved her every minute, I was her punching ball.
I was so stressed out that I had nervous tics, gastritic nervous problems, asma and a breathing condition, all of this my mother chose to ignore and thought I was overreacting, even made me feel guilty for it, or ashamed. I was underdeveloped, skinny. I bided my fingers out of frustration so I had severely damaged fingers.
I was shy, silent, I was prohibited to tell anything about our lives at school, was not even allowed to say my parents were divorced.
I remember not taking my sweater off ever because I panicked the reaction of my mother if I lost it. She was always demeaning, shaming me, talking to other people about me (in a bad way) as if I was not there, humiliated me every time.
She would call my dad, always arguing and fighting, telling him how miserable she was taking care of us.
Financially she was also a selfish mess. She spent all the money on herself, and when my father offered to pay her a vacation with us, she always turned down the offer and asked for the money instead, in exchange, so she could use it as she wanted to. She saw no point in going out on vacations with us her daughters, she openly said that she would go with a boyfriend or nothing. Of course this meant we were staying all the summer in an apartment, no vacations for us either.
Our one vacation, I was around 12, my grandfather offered to pay for it and we all went with him, our grandmother and my mother to the beach (I so miss my grandfather), after 2 days she said she was not there to work (aka cooking dinner) and in a crazy rage of screams and violence made us pack and leave.

She was frequently obsessed with platonic men, she idealized, not a real relation, but she talked about them as if they were real. Typically they were married, or even gay! She constantly talked about her beauty, was very envious, compared against other women in everything (looks, motherhood, clothes). She envied everybody and thought everyone was bragging to her.
When I was 13 she got a dog, a big one, a Golden Retriever. The dog, as his master, was violent, nuts, he would bite us and was aggressive all the time (being in that nut house). The funny thing is that she was proud of the dog being like that, “attacking us”, she is highly delusional and she said that the dog would sense or negativism and protect her from us. Eventually the dog was violent with her and she had to sacrifice it. I hated that mean dog, it was an extension of her.

At school, I was bullied by mates and even by mean teachers, ignored, always alone, humiliated, picked on, sad child. I hid in the library or many times hid in the bathroom during break time so no one would find me. My life at home was too hard, and of course I was never allowed to go to friends’ homes or have anyone one at home, not once. I was ostracized with cero social life. Only bringing it up would be reason enough for my mother’s rage and violence.
I was so terrorized of going to school and going through such hell, that I waited awake (with a lot of effort) till my mom would be a asleep, till 1 or 2 Am, and get into the room to put off the alarm clock, scared to death because if she caught me it would be my end. I also marked down in an agenda each day (like the guys in prison) looking forward to its end. I was miserable, lonely and depressed.

At 8 years I told her I was bullied and that I wanted to change schools. She put the blame on me, talking nasty, told me to shut up and just study, as that was the only reason to go to school.
Of course she never, not once, attended a school meeting, met a mom or talked to one, mete my friends, nothing.

At age10 I was given a second place award for something at school, and she looked at me like what a looser, and just said... “never first.. always a second place”.
At school she refused to make the costume for the end of the year party, so we were not allowed to act, and not even practicing at school. We had to sit aside at every practice.
She was mean when waking us up, screaming, we never had a breakfast, or checked our school books, or shared any kind of daughter mother time.
It was just her and her stuff, living together but separately. I was my own mom, I ironed my uniform, made my lunch box.
I even went secretly by myself and bought my first bra, and secretly put it away at home so my mother didn’t find out. One day she found out and made a scene humiliating me.

For our bdays we couldn´t have any friends or anything like it, we just had tea but on a non festive, forced way, no love.
For her birthdays when we were children we did everything possible to make her happy, decorated the house, made acts and wrote songs to her, lovely cards, we used all of our savings to get her the most expensive gift we could afford, hoping to make her happy for once. We always failed.
Her reactions were a blank look, a forced and cold "very good" almost making fun of us. She openly expressed our gifts were ugly, or useless. Once she wanted a juice maker, very expensive for our budget, we saved very penny and got her one age 12, and she said it was a piece of **** and that it was nothing like her friend’s.
One time we made a full party with a cake, a table, decorations, a surprise, a gift, we were anxiously expecting her. She came back from work, was there for a minute, had her make up fixed and left to celebrate with her friends. She didn´t care about our surprise party at all. She just left. I was heartbroken.

I remember another story, when I was really young, probably 6 or 7, I wanted to help my poor mother (as she portrayed herself) with the home duties she hated so much, so I got a bucket with water and washed everything in the house to clean it. When she saw my “surprise” she was so mad about it that she beat me up.

One time when I was little she wanted to spy on a boyfriend who she thought was cheating, so she used me as an excuse and took me out in the middle of the night and “casually” ran into him, saying she was taking me to the doctor or something, it was like 2AM

She also played a lot of mind games. She would ask who is the pretty one, and if I did not say it was her, she would get really mad and withhold caring. Also she was super nice to other children of other people, overly nice, right in front of me, but no with me, making a difference, almost like if they deserved her love because they were pretty or fun or something. I had a vague look in my eyes and I remember it was hard for me to make eye contact.
When I was a teen, she suggested and was convinced that I envied her for her looks (she was not pretty BTW, she was just insane!)

She called us all kind of nicknames or name calling: envious of her, a crow (the bird, because crows are supposedly evil and ugly (?). She said we were interested in the money of our dad, that we were shallow, bad, bad daughters, all kind of things.

She was intrusive, she would ripped off our posters from the wall, and broke our books and magazines if angry. Read our mail and go through our stuff. Threw our clothes away. Made us look bad when someone called on the phone.

She constantly threatened us to leave, or to kick us out, which she did eventually.
When we were old enough to go out on vacations trip with friends, she pretended to be suicidal when we called, leaving us all worried and scared and most of all guilty.
She played with our guilt so bad, I think she only wanted us to be as miserable as her. If she ever saw us happy or enjoying something, she would intervene and made us feel guilty for feeling joy if she was so miserable. Unfortunately, we could not help her, anything that we could do would possibly give her any happiness.

Paradoxically, she constantly says that all she did, she did for us, all the sacrifice in her life, and that she would die for us.. this was so confusing.. we were getting exactly the opposite. Her love felt like hate an yet she was playing the martyr role here. Today she wants to ignore the past, she would deny every sentence and would not admit anything, but deep down she knows everything and I think she suffers from a lot of guilt for how mean she was.

She denied us to contact our father many times, she told us he preferred her new wife over us.

She neglected us, did not give us proper medical care, poor living conditions and nutrition, cero social life and living a secret. The double life was stressful. No friend would ever know any of this, not even my boyfriends.

She was flirtatious, conceded, over sexy look for her age. She was jealous of my youth, always saying that we were like sisters, competitive, and despised me. She never acted as a mom. She was the ultimate narcissist, the world revolving around her, self centered. She rejected me and my feelings were totally shut down, we were just objects, who did not deserve any affection.
Being me was wrong, that truly ruined me, I have no clue of who I am or who I´m supposed to be. I tried being different people as a kid to get acceptance from my mother but did not work either.

At 13 she kicked me out and went live with my other narcissistic parent.
I was in a house where everything shined, but no room for a child. They did not include me, made feel like a burden, neglected me, discriminated me, and I was all alone without my sisters, these were some of the loneliest years. I was welcomed to dinner so I sneaked in at night for food and took it to my room where I was imprisoned, because I was so poorly treated if I leave that it was kind of my fort. My father is cruel, cold and severe. He says the cruelest things; he says I´m full of hate, that I should go get some more people to hate, always remarking how my friends are better, that their boyfriends are better than mine. He looks down on me. His wife is miserable woman who didn´t want us in their lives and clearly I was bothering, so on a passive aggressive way and making stories behind my back, she acted against me, pretending she liked me, talking **** about me to my dad. This was also devastating as I really liked her, I thought I would finally find a mother figure who would love me. I ´d say I didn´t find any love as growing up, except for my loving grandfather who makes me burst out into tears every time I think of him.
My father was arrogant, controlling, he threatened me physically, once he got physical and he slapped me and hit me over and over and put all his weight on me and wouldn´t let me move. It was a highly abusive experience and cannot get through .He was an abusive sadist and a big fat bully. Alcoholic. He was harsh and very critical. He looked at us as failures, damaged, but in a cynic amusing way, would criticize everything from how we speak, how we eat, how we dress, how we are. He would not comfort me when desperately sad and crying but would turn the other way embarrassed for the “scandal”. He made me feel stupid for being sensitive and embarrassed for it. I was accused of being dramatic. He is disgusting, uncomfortable to be around, a complete bully. They both lost their friends. My father used to buy them with money and nice things and favors. My mother did not have any, she was too annoying and rude. My father is a narcissistic, he´s top characteristic is to manipulate through power, withholding money, threatening to take everything away and leave you on the street, triangular talking through third parties and teaming up with others against you. He would be the most cruel but lightly and casual. Around other people he makes “jokes” about how difficult is to be our father, how not funny we are, or no job, or other hurtful comments made to sound “funny”. He is conceded and feels he is very smart, but has no emotional intelligence at all. He did not have any physical contact like hugs or kisses, very distant, would not listen nor talk in deep about anything, only trivial conversation. At a time he was so humiliating and violent I wished he was dead or in a wheel chair so I could gain power against him. He was such a bully.
Eventually my father also kicked me out and decided they tried but they wanted to live on their own.

As a teen I completely broke, failed at school, rebelled, had trouble to get my degree (something related to not achieving thing because of being put down by parents). I was a complete disaster in the outside and the inside but internally I was mellow extra sensible, heart-broken sweet girl who just wanted some love.

As for today, we are 3 messed up siblings, none has formed a family and we have severe emotional problems and depression, it also runs in the family. I spend Bdays and Xmas by myself. My parents, they both blame me for “living in the past”, being difficult and so on, and they are still harsh, cruel and always make mean remarks. I hardly ever see them, they do not call or want to see me anyways. The reason I did not kill myself is because it kills me to think that I would make my siblings more miserable. I feel I have no future, no hope, I’m ****** up with no care to give, I cannot even take care of myself.
Sorry to bore you all but this is too long and I can continue with so much  I wish you guys all the best.

Hello, my wife has the same type of mother and suppressed memories but they still have an active relationship. I do have a question, how has this affected you marriage?

Love & support.
Don't waste your energy on her. Invest in your self and keep giving love to other parts of the world.

I have finally found a community that went thru what I did, and am currently going thru. Thank you all for speaking up. I thought I was crazy and no one would ever understand. I can't tell you what a profound sense of Relief I feel. Thank you for this.

I was just wondering, because my mom is not diagnosed, do you think it would be a good idea to tell her that I think she has BPD? I'm thinking that she will probably think I am trying to manipulate her. Anyone with experience in this area? <br />
I'd really appreciate any comments.

Nononononono you are not dealing with a reasonable person and she will not listen nor believe you.

Thank you StepMomNeedingHelp for being one of those rare people that enter a child of a BPD parent's life and do what you can to be a positive force in their life. We need more people like you in this world!

Thanks everyone. I really appreciate what you have written. Since writing this, his father and I have successfully removed him from his home with his BPD mother (she became suicidal and was threatening to hurt him as well). We are now, of course, in the battle of a lifetime in the courts due to her thinking that nothing is her fault, no ownership on her part and the continued comments of the therapists involved that our son is not ready for unsupervised visit with his mother nor is she. It's a battle but, he's doing really well. The comments about defensive are right on target. He is soo very defensive of his mother but, also afraid of her, which is very evident by the two therapists involved with him. (He has his own and a Conjoint Therapist - where he goes to therapy with her.) She is a Queen Borderline as well - just an FYI there. If you have any help you can give as far as how to speak with my step-son about things, help him realize he is worth something and has value, etc - any help is greatly appreciated. It's been a journey and one that I realize I was put on for a reason! Thanks again!!

I am so happy to hear your stepson is out of his BPD mother’s home and safe with you. The suicide threats and attempts are terrifying, even when you’re an adult child of a BPD parent. Hopefully the courts will side with your son’s best interests and only allow supervised visits until his mother has shown significant progress in treating her BPD (which in my experience isn’t really likely to happen).

As far as advice on how to speak with you stepson about his BPD mom and helping him to see his worth one of the most important thing I can suggest is to make sure not to make judgment statements about his mom to him because he will probably push you away for doing so. Make sure to show and tell him what a normal parent-child relationship is like by telling him things like we’re here to take care of you and you shouldn’t be put into a position to take care of us. Tell him this whenever the opportunity presents itself because it will be a hard concept for him to internalize. Don’t baby him; treat him like a normal kid. I remember how oddly good it made me feel when my friends’ family (whom took me in quite often in my teenage years) gave me chores just like their kids. Right now he probably feels responsible for his BPD mother’s well-being and might even be blaming himself for her suicide threat and many other things that aren’t his fault. He might be feeling helpless because he can’t be there to take care of his BPD mom and may show that with frustration or even anger directed at you or your husband. Don’t take offense to this; it’s just his survival instinct that has been damaged by the dysfunctional relationship with his mother. If he acts out inappropriately from that anger, let him know it’s not okay, but also make sure to tell him you love him nothing he does will change that. Tell him you love him, complement him on things he does well, tell him how kind he is, and tell him these things whenever you have the opportunity until you can see that it’s sinking in for him, then cut down a bit so he doesn’t start thinking you are just saying those things but don’t mean them. He’s used to reading between the lines with his BPD mother, so he may pick up on those things more than any other kid would.

Above all, just love him and accept him openly with all the little oddities he’s accumulated from being subjected to the psychological abuse of his BPD mom. It won’t be easy for either one of you probably, but know that by being there for him you are likely saving him from much worse problems later in life that develop as a result of being raised by a BPD parent. You are a hero for your stepson whether he sees it or not and whether you feel that way or not, your care, love, and attention is heroic in his life.

Thank you for writing this

StepMomNeedingHelp - I'm a 26-year-old with a BPD mother. She is violent and displays some of the narcissistic traits of her parents. I lived in fear (I believe she wanted to kill me several times and would have done so once, but for police intervention). Nevertheless, if someone had said something negative about my mum, I almost certainly would have gone defensive. So of course every situation is different, but for what it's worth - the very best thing that anyone ever did for me was to be a good role model. I had lots of good role models around me who didn't preach, but who loved me and cuddled me and showed me what warmth was. That is probably the only reason why I'm not like my mother and have been able to stay sane in the face of her unrelenting idiocy/madness since I've grown up and woken up to her true nature. I mean, if someone had told me that she had BPD when I was living with her, what could I have done? I was just a vulnerable child and knowledge of her condition would not have actually helped my situation. In my opinion, just be a good role model. If you can get your stepson out of that house then that's brilliant. But if you can't then I wouldn't give him reading materials. Kids of BPDs have to repress a lot of stuff just to cope and I don't think you'd be doing him any favours by getting him to face this stuff head-on, especially at such a young age.

And by the way, it's clear that you really care, and that's awesome :)

Everyone, this is a great site! Do any of you know any place where there are some resources and help tips for children of borderline? I'm talking kids NOW - not adult children... I have a 10 year old stop-son dealing with a borderline AND bi-polar mother, with narcissism. I'm trying to find some resources for HIM to read, do, etc that would help him navigate his mother.

I'm going to have to agree with Emey on this one, unless your step-son has already recognized it on his own and is asking you for resources. I'm a 32-year-old with a BPD mother. As a child she had me so convinced she was a great mother that when anyone would dare say something negative about her I would get upset and very defensive. The best thing to have in your life when dealing with a BPD parent is other good adult figures around you to fill in where they can. Even being a bit over the top on complementing the child of a BPD parent can be good since often they feel quite beat down by their parent. Being a loving adult whose there for them and is a good role model is the best, short of social services intervention to remove the child and place them in a better home when available, thing you can do. The worst thing you can do is in any way make the child feel judged for their feelings about their BPD parent. I survived through the grace of other caring adults who were mostly my friends parents who recognized the situation and treated me lovingly like their own children anytime I was with them. To this day, I can't find words enough to thank those people for being selfless and loving another person's child. You can and will be this person for your stepson.

Wow, yours is a really touching story. I really respect what you've been through and will be looking up the books you mentioned. <br />
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You are so right, parents with BPD are 100% incapable of reflecting on how their behavior impacts others ... it's as if they can't admit responsibility for anything, and only believe in their own victimhood ...<br />
<br />
Thanks for the inspiring share!

I'm the 24 year-old son of a (single) BPD mother. I was miserable living with her, and warned her countless times that I'd leave her, alone and helpless in the world, if she didn't stop treating me like ****. Well, she never stopped, and through truly miraculous circumstances that manifested in my life, I was financially able to leave - So I did, and I made the decision swiftly and firmly, seemingly out of the blue to her. She didn't know how to react. She got angry at first, then sank into a really deep depression. I was actually a little worried she'd try to kill herself. I felt really bad, but it was for the best. I took off, and disappeared completely from her life (didn't respond to her birthday texts, didn't wish her happy birthday, or mother's day, or Christmas, etc). I left her alone for about two years. Over time, I decided I didn't want to be angry and depressed anymore, so I decided to let go of the anger. I then attemped contact towards the end of the 3rd year. No response. I don't know how or even IF I can face her again. I live with my father now, who I was brainwashed to believe he was a bad person, for so many years, when it was actually her. She doesn't know I reconnected with my father (as far as I know). Everything is just so upside down. I've made great personal progress, and although I decided to let go of the anger and put everything behind me, I can't help but feel that distant emptiness at times, and feeling like I've abandoned her. Last I knew, she was unemployed, no car, no income, running out of money, no family in the area, depressed, and has severe back problems. I was all she had in the world, and I suddenly bailed and disappeared on her. I tried, I really tried to put up with her, and get along with her, but it was hopeless. Had I remained trapped and miserable, with no way out, I probably would have eventually snapped and murdered her. I'm 100% serious. It was THAT bad. Funny how now I can't help but feel sorry for her, and wonder if she's okay. I just want us to love eachother and be happy again, and just forget about everything that has happened, but I have a hard time with the idea of going back and looking for her. I fear that one day it will be too late, and that I won't ever see her again while she's alive. <br />
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To make matters worse, I can't find a job in this economy, so I live in my dad's dining room. I'm poor, single, and haven't been able to get a girlfriend, either. I have a 28 year-old Ford (which I'm lucky to even have that) which I haven't been driving, because since I moved in with my dad, I don't know anyone in the area, don't have money to go out, and don't want to put miles on my car, because gas and repairs/maintenance are too expensive, and it might break down on me - So my car just sits there with a dead battery, and has to be jumped once a week so I can move it for street sweeping. Life sucks, but yet I keep my head above water... and try to remain hopeful.

Hello all, Thank you so much for all the supportive comments...I've been doing better, better than ever probably because I haven't spoken to my mother in about 6 months...she keeps sending my kids gifts though...seems she's trying to buy herself out of the guilt, perhaps...she always thought money solved took me a long time to realize the material bs never made anyone I'm working on becoming a counselor to help people...I can be proud of that...<br />
If we survived our abuse, anyone can, right? It's awful to hear what some children go through...and people wonder why we have substance abuse disorders and mental illness???...anyway, it really helps to know that there are others out there that can relate...does anyone have a support group they go to? I'd like to go to one, or start one...

I am proud of you for being so strong and finding the silver lining. You will be an amazing counselor and I wish you the best of luck in your endeavors. Your story hit home with me, and I've realized that the apology I'm waiting on from my mother will never come. I have to make peace with that. I haven't spoken to my mother in quite some time, although she continues to send me texts telling me that she "loves me and she's praying for me to get help." She has convinced her co-workers that I'm crazy and my own father refuses to stand up to my mom. I cannot have a relationship with either of them. The only person who saw my mom for what she is, my father's mother, has recently passed away. She was the only person who didn't call me crazy or tell me to honor my mother. I miss her so much and I'm so thankful for the time I spent with her. My silver lining is my grandmother's normal behavior that I can model for my own children. I hope that anyone who has lived with a BPD can be vigilant about finding the good. We can either be broken or strong. I choose to be strong.

Oh, and I would also like to go to a support group. It really helps to know that we are not alone. Isolation in the family feels horrible. My parents won't go to therapy with me because "they don't have any reason to go to therapy." That hurts worse coming from my non-BPD parent because it tells me that to him, I'm just a liar.

Yeah--mine also presented a perfect front to the rest of the world. My family refused to believe the things i would tell them that she would do or say to me, and if they listened, they'd say it was my fault. My fault? Emotional abuse is my fault? Being abandoned, being the perfect daughter one moment and the evil demon the next, left alone without money or food, being cursed at and ignored and told hateful things is my fault? I fully acknowledge that I was a trigger for her. But it simply never added up until I realized what she had. You're not alone--I hope you are able to find a measure of ease and comfort...Thank you for the book recommendation, I am definitely going to be looking into that soon.

Borderline parents suck the life out of you. Congratulations for getting help and realising you no longer have to put up with abuse. My advice to children of aging borderlines - put the aging borderline in a home where they can be looked after by someone else and start living the life you deserve. Good luck to you and your family. Wishing you peace.

Thank you for sharing your experience. I can relate to this in particular: "I've always recalled wondering who was going to walk in the door after work....I was absolutely terrified of her....emotional abuse was the normalcy I lived with...I grew up with guilt, confusion, and all the rest."<br />
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You described my exact experience...this is so comforting to me because I realize again that it wasn't ME, I didn't do anything to provoke the abuse, and I couldn't control it. What a relief.

Thank you for your story. I have read that book so many times and it has been very helpful to establish emotional and physical boundaries with my mother. I am also 32 and I am looking forward to one day start a family. I am thankful for educating myself to I won't repeat the same things as my mother, so far so good. IS that she pulls me in her web......she pulls me in about evert two years and I explode. (she is the WAIF)........<br />
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Thank you so much again........I don't feel alone.....

I feel for you! I understand the pain of being brought up by a BPD mother. Have a look at a new blog I started to provide an arena to share and support one another who have had these mothers! <br />
I know it has long lasting effects to every area of ones life.<br />
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Daughters of Moms with Borderline.wordpress.