/r/raisedbyborderlines
A survivor sub exclusively for children raised by a toxic parent or guardian with borderline personality disorder/emotionally unstable personality disorder. This is a constructive, supportive space to find healing from your abusive parent and dysfunctional home.
PLEASE READ THE RULES before you participate. We take sub members' safety very seriously.
If you're new to Reddit, please review Reddit 101 before you participate here. In all cases, please remember to keep yourself safe!
This is a survivor support subreddit. We take the safety of the sub members very seriously and moderate accordingly. Due to many members’ personal history with a parent who is abusive, self-harms, rages, blames, and obsesses, we work very hard to maintain a kind, supportive space.
Unfortunately, we are a magnet for trolling. We never take actions lightly, and we depend on the community to help us keep everyone safe.
All our rules are non-negotiable.
Don't ask other members for an explanation of a rule or where you can find it in the rules. Ask the mods.
If you've read the rules, don't explain the rules to other members. This allows us to ensure everyone reads and understands the rules accurately.
Always send questions/grievances to the mod team by putting /r/raisedbyborderlines in the To field. Direct messages to individual moderators will be ignored. Repeated infractions may result in a ban.
While we respect that there are pwBPD who get treatment and help, this space is for children who suffered the abusive effect of parents who were – or continue to be – harmful.
Therefore we cannot allow anyone who has Borderline Personality Disorder or similar disorders to participate here.
This includes if you have BPD and have BPD parents, if you have no diagnosis but identify as BPD, and if you have a previous diagnosis regardless of whether you currently meet the DSM criteria.
While you aren't able to participate here, please search Reddit for other subs that are suitable for your needs. Subs for you include /r/BPD, /r/BPDSOFFA, /r/bpdlovingsupport, /r/BPD4BPD, and /r/BPDsraisedbyBPDs.
Dealing with a loved one with BPD, but not your parent? You're looking for /r/BPDlovedones.
This is a safe space for those with BPD parents. Violations, argument or protests of this rule will be met with a ban.
We are unqualified and unable to provide a safe and appropriate space for people with any personality disorders. As with Rule 2, this is a safety rule, not a statement that people with PDs are undeserving of help or support.
This includes those with Cluster A, B or C personality disorders.
Your content is likely to be triggering for us, and ours for you.
We know that not all people with BPD are like our parents. Stating this on our sub serves only to invalidate our experiences and will get you banned.
Asking "what about the feelings of people with BPD?" here will also get you banned. There's a time and place for that discussion, but it's not on a subforum for those with abusive parents with BPD.
If you have BPD and are dedicated to treatment, we know it's a difficult journey and you have our support. However, please respect our space for the reasons above.
For more on this, see About "not all pwBPD".
Don't reference or link to other subs. Don't crosspost or duplicate posts to or from here. Even if it's your own content.
Especially don't post from, link to, or refer to BPD-related forums. Respect their spaces as we expect any of their members to respect ours.
Don't solicit or offer PMs. Don't PM individual mods; PM the mod team. See Rule 1.
Violating posts/comments will be removed with a warning; repeated violations will result in a ban.
If you are not reasonably sure whether your primary caregiver fits the criteria, please don't participate. We aren't mental health professionals, and as such we aren't qualified to diagnose anyone. That said, due to the nature of BPD, we understand that not every RBB has the privilege of a clear diagnosis for their parent/s.
Don't post or comment wondering if you have BPD. If it’s reasonably likely that you have BPD, please seek professional evaluation, and avoid our sub, as it may trigger you. As explained in Rule 2, we can’t safely serve people with BPD, but other subs likely can.
Discussion that mentions or is about “fleas” (maladaptive traits or behaviors picked up from your BPD parent) is currently forbidden due to safety concerns and lack of resources.
You can post in /r/SuicideWatch. Additional resources are available here and here.
If you are in crisis and you work with a therapist, please contact them; most will talk to you over the phone or get you an urgent appointment.
/r/raisedbyborderlines is an online forum, not a replacement for treatment or services. For your safety and others, suicide watch posts are not allowed here and we reserve our right to remove similar posts at our discretion.
This sub is for survivors of BPD abuse from a parent or primary caregiver. If you weren't raised by a person with BPD, don't participate here. If you're uncertain on whether your primary caregiver has BPD, please don't participate until you become reasonably certain.
We do our best to be supportive, but we're not an anyone-with-an-opinion sub.
Mental health “experts" are forbidden. For everyone's safety, any claims of being one or of dispensing expert advice will be met with a warning or a ban.
No research requests or self-promotion are allowed. For our members' safety, we do not allow these.
A) Be kind. Please see the RBB Encouraged Code of Conduct.
Bigotry, including racism, sexism, religious and cultural xenophobia, and queerphobia, will be met with a swift ban. Please don’t proselytize; lots of people here are survivors of religious and spiritual abuse.
B) For new members
Be advised that for everyone's protection new accounts will be subject to scrutiny. That said, we completely understand the need for throwaway accounts. In addition to fulfilling the requirement for new posters as stated below, please provide the mod team with your alternate username(s), or let us know if you don't have any.
First post requirement: Welcome! Thanks for reading the rules! To show us you've read it all, please include a haiku extolling the virtues of cats in your first post, or a link to cute kitty pics. This is required and there are no exceptions to this rule. (For your privacy: don't link to personal pics with your name on them!)
Communication strategies for raisedbyborderlines
Abuse: Was it abuse? Is it abusive?
On Boundaries, Plus a Little Love for NC
Protecting kids: An RBB primer
Interviewing a potential therapist
Married to a pwBPD: advice from raisedbyborderlines
Things to keep in mind when dealing with an abusive person with BPD (pwBPD):
1) The no-win scenario is a real thing; the only winning move is not to play.
2) Taking money or favors always comes with strings attached, though they may not be apparent at the time.
3) You can't "win" on the pwBPD's terms; the only way to "beat" the no-win scenario? Change the rules!
/r/raisedbyborderlines
I would ask my therapist but I see her in two weeks so I figured I'd ask here. For the LONGEST time, my uBPD mother would say "Fine you win" if I triggered her without knowing. She also made it a competition for love - Trying to get me to love her more than my father. (Apparently I can't share love 🙄) if I showed a slightest affection to my father, she'd go on a rampage and tell me that I don't love her, how my dad finally "won" (huh? Win what?) and im... so confused. But I'm getting sick of this shit. I suppose it's because they divorced and my mother held a bitter resentment towards him and tried to brainwash me into hating him as well. Thankfully I didn't!
I know this sounds like a “duh” question, but an article by a therapist with a phd in treating borderlines said otherwise, and now I’m confused.
She says that narcissists will deliberately try to smear campaign you, deliberately hurt you and drag down your reputation, before you can do so to them or before/in retaliation to anyone getting the idea that the narcissist has done something wrong [like verbal or emotional abuse]. She says borderlines will never do this, and instead react in ways like breaking someone’s property because they’re mad, or giving excessive gifts to win someone over.
My mother has been officially diagnosed by at least 1 therapist, with bpd, and the diagnosis aligns and fits. Is there possibility that she’s actually npd, even though she has a strong core of bpd, hates herself, wants attention in very waiflike or rage like ways, splits, and so on, because of her vengeful smear campaigning where she calculatedly, slowly, and methodically works hard over long periods of time to destroy you?
Is the writer of the article looking at things with too much of a dichotomy and separation between the disorders? Does a borderline never verbally smear campaign and never do so on purpose with information they know to be untrue? Do they never actually wish and act to harm another person? Because mine does. Whether or not she believes what she says, which who will ever know that, seems irrelevant to distinguish between smear campaigning with intent to harm or not. I don’t know how much this can be simplified or understood, I just know I’m confused.
Inside my mother is like 1 whole borderline, who also turns into a malignant narcissist when she has split on you, and the narcissist who hates you never goes away these last few years. When she hates me, she wishes I never existed. She’s told me so, and she’s said iterations of something similar about a sibling. Better to have them not exist, than to live what she feels, which she believes to have come frome whoever of of the moment.
It’s on Hulu. I’m watching for the first time.
Dr. Claire Browne has a mother that really reminds me of this community. In the show, she has Bipolar Disorder, but all I see from her is borderline characteristics.
Claire has an emotionally immature mother named Breeze.
If you want a specific episode to watch about the relationship, I recommend Season 3, Episode 3. It’s called “Claire”.
Will try to keep this short - just wanted to write this down somewhere so I remember, and also because you all get it.
Mom drank for the first time in a LONG time tonight. Gave me a call, was talking about how she needed it after all the stressful things happening and it helped take the edge off. Good for her! Agree that she needed it and glad she was feeling better.
Then she talked about how she just didn’t care about shit anymore - not in a depressing way, but in a “I’m not going to let things bother me” way. Cool!
Then it went into how she was tired of trying to be healthy, so fuck it - if she dies she dies. Uh oh. Waif-ery incoming.
She then started about how she had no family, but didn’t care. That she had no one but didn’t care either. Eehhhhhhh
Yesterday was the two year anniversary of her dad dying, which I know is hard and I acknowledged that I still felt it too. Which then led into how SHE was the only one who gave a shit about him, that all of us were money-grubbing and selfish after he died, that all of us just abandoned him while he was alive. Mind you, when he was alive she’d constantly complain about how he was taking advantage of her because she’d manage his instacart, call her every night but only talk about himself (hmmm), etc.
Strike one. I told her she was being “prickly” and asked to talk about something happier to take her mind off. But she doubled down, saying how all her family sucks, including me, and I abandoned her when my in laws came into the picture (not true - I’ve offered to do something on the holidays every year, but she always has an excuse). She then said my husband could fuck off, that I never call her back (again, not true), etc etc.
I ended it right there - “I feel like you’re escalating, so I’m going to go now. Love you.” As I hung up I heard her start to go off and say, “GO AHEAD AND HANG UP” as I clicked.
Often with this shit I get all in a funk, but I’m surprisingly chill? I’m still irked, but it’s not consuming my evening. Therapy has def helped, as has this group.
Hope yall have a good Saturday evening, and thanks again. Grateful for you all.
Hi everyone. I’m feeling really down, depressed, and dissociative from myself. I think I just need a reminder that i’m going to be okay. this is really hard.
some context, i’ve been in therapy for over a year now helping me out with my uBPD mom and helping me set boundaries. Things got ugly for a while, but then they smoothed over, there was peace, healthy distance and understanding (so i thought). i also felt much more equipped to handle these intense moments, but the aftermath always sucks me into a deep dark black hole of numbness.
a few days ago on a whim i get a text from my mom not asking me, but telling me i have to help her with something the next day. i live across the country, and i work full time. me expressing hesitance to her impulsivity only made her angry and she reacted with rage and started to cuss me out and call me names. believe me, if you knew the context of the full situation, it’s bonkers. but unfortunately i just don’t have the energy to type out every single detail anymore. point is, she overstepped, so i had to set a boundary and block her for being verbally abusive.
i’m feeling sad, confused, shocked. my therapist told me it’s an indicator of how unpredictable my childhood was, and how everything could just change on a dime. she’s also wonderful and very helpful. i’m just now dreading the holidays- feeling 80% sure that I will now not be going home for christmas (even though i wanted to, prior). i just hate how destructive this all feels and am seeking support
My mother has been obsessed with massages since I was small. She's a secretary, so she gets a pretty painfully stiff back: She also regularly goes to a local massage parlour. However, she also has requested the same from me. At first, it started as an exchange: She'd massage me & I her. Then, later, she gave me money. But as I got older, she would give me less and less either way, until I was just expected to do it, because "God forbid you do something nice for your mother once!" And, well. My brain was pretty much trained to keep her at ease. So I'd just do that
In reality? I fucking hated that shit! What part? Well, EVERYTHING! I hated the stupid coconut oil she made me put on my hands! My hands hurt from kneading + she'd always complain I was not massaging long enough! And to top it off, she'd often go half-naked, so I "wouldn't have to go through clothing". And while I'm a woman myself, like that's just....ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!
Being an adult now, I absolutely fucking refuse to do any more massages -who guessed? And my Ma..well, she ain't taking it well. It just solidifies how much I was my mother's therapist: If she got dysregulated during work, she'd scream at me. She'd complain to me if she had issues per se (including with me, in some weird meta sense). Well, now it turns out I was her physical therapist as well! And yes -before you ask: She has a husband! And no- he's never asked to give massages. Because of course "he doesn't want to, so he doesn't have to". Sometimes I figure it's also enmeshment: I know for a sad fact that my parents' marriage has died before I was born, but instead of taking boyfriends, my Ma just uses me to fulfill her craving for touch.
Anyway. She asked. I said no. So I had to clean the bath today. Chlorine gave me a headache, but I greatly prefer that.
God! WHY! DOES SHE HAVE! TO BE! SUCH! A! CHILD?!
Hi,
In the past 4-5 years I've been finally accepting that what I experienced as a child was not my fault, and fits perfectly into the pattern of emotional abuse by BPD, and there's no amount of 'good moments with mom' that can be exchanged for allowing her to continue hurting me (or my kids). I'm finally no contact and healing. I'm accepting that my feelings are valid and that the people who say they care about me should show basic levels of respect for me.
However, I'm realizing a lot of my life choices up until this point were based on that unhealed trauma. I had joined a religious organization for several years which told me that my feelings, desires, and well-being were 'not as important as serving God' (I got excommunicated three years ago for 'going my own way' during pandemic conditions, but excommunication was a real favor to me and I'm glad I'm out now). But, in line with that, I made a lot of personal sacrifices that has left me with a low-paying service career I don't like and financially not-terrible-but-not-good-either. I got into a marriage with in-laws that disrespect me and a husband who ignores my feelings and shifts blame onto me whenever I try to ask for, like, literally anything. Through therapy, I realized that I made these choices and others like them, because being raised by a BPD instilled a sense of responsibility for all others and normalized having my own needs and boundaries disregarded and invalidated. I thought it was a step up to not have obscenities yelled at me or physical abuse (and, yeah, that's a step up), but I still allowed that familiar feeling of "my needs don't matter" into these life choices.
So, I'm 40, just separated from my husband last week, and trying to start a new career. But it's tremendously painful and difficult.
Have any of you had to try to pick up the pieces of the lasting ripple effects of your crappy childhood? How did it go?
Something that's never happened in my relationship with my mom is occurring now and I'd love a gut check in terms of how I'm reacting.
A week or so ago was a family event and it was my first time seeing my parents since last Christmas. She was in peak form in acting weird but there was no arguing. Then I made a comment which honestly was a bit rude but genuinely one I think most people would just ignore (imagine saying "you suck at golf" to someone who really does suck at golf). And she hasn't spoken to me since. It's been a week of total silence now (in-person at the event and over text since). Normally she checks in a TON since she's so anxious.
On the one hand, it's nice to not get her texts. Whenever I see her name pop on my phone, I feel a surge of anxiety. But I have this sense that if I don't check in with her, then I'm "just as bad" because I'm giving her the silent treatment right back, if that makes sense? But on the other hand, I know I'm not responsible for her feelings. If she's mad at me, she could just fucking say so instead of having a baby tantrum.
She's given me the silent treatment before (healthy!) but she's always cracked within a day. So a week is really notable. In every other time she's either 1. insisted that I'm the one in the wrong and I provoked her into doing it and I owe her an apology or 2. just started pretending like nothing ever happened. Whichever she does this time, for the first time I don't think I'm going the play along just for the sake of keeping the peace. No one deserves to be treated like this by their own parent. Whenever we do talk again, I want to say that to her. I know she won't agree or react well, but it's for my own sake, not hers.
So am I "toxic" for refusing to reach out too or am I right not to chase her to find our what's wrong? Also she lives with my dad, so if she had an emergency or something I would find out through him.
I came here to check if I was wrong about this but as soon as I started writing this post it became even more clear how fucked up this behavior is from my mother. My father passed away about a year and half ago. It was the hardest shit I've ever been through. Since then I've gone extremely low contact with my uBPD mother. She texts me about some crisis or illness and I give her a grey rock response. That's our entire relationship now.
My mother is bad at taking care of her things so her phone always barely works and doesn't hold a charge. She still pays for my father's phone line and kept his cell phone. She uses some mental gymnastic excuse that she has to use his phone when hers isn't working. After the first couple of time's she did it I had to change the contact name in my phone because it was immensely painful to see my Dad's name appear. I've asked her to please not use that number to contact me but she goes into hysterics about being a widow and she's alone and her phone doesn't work and I'm sure you all can imagine how that goes. I just never respond when she text me on that number.
Her grief is not a pass to hurt me or ignore my boundaries. My mother could easily get a new cell phone to resolve her problem. I have even offered to help her get a new phone but she always makes excuses. My entire life my mother has manipulated me by using my love for my father and she's continuing to try even after his death. So fucked up.
First Post Haiku: Kitty Jump Kitty play, Kitty find nice sunbeam to lay, Kitty sleepy now,
Hi everyone,
I really really really need help. The worst part is, and I’m sure this sub feels this quite a bit, Is that the context of all of this is YEARS in the making. I’ll try and make this as simple as possible. I am alone, with absolutely no one I can count on in my life. I’m begging for some support, advice, and hope. Someone, for the love of god, please give me something to look forward to.
My (24F) dad cheated on my mom in 2014. I figured it out. I told my mom. My mom came to me for counsel every night. Demanding answers, asking for advice, and becoming frustrated when I was uncomfortable. For years, I woke up trying to think of new ways to make my dad stop cheating, and was up late counseling and consoling my mom about it.
My mom has always been emotionally volatile. It got worse when the affair happened. She takes out her emotions on me (to the point a family therapist called her out for using me as a “punching bag”). She denies this to this day. In terms of her fitness to the BPD criteria… it’s a good fit, and my counselor (whilst emphasizing she cannot diagnose) did say she exemplified a lot of the traits.
Flash forward to now. I’m 24, and moved home after leaving my long term partner. I have no friends in the area, or anyone else I could live with. I work part-time (they won’t give me FT though I’m often taking as many extra shifts as I can), and enrolled in graduate school full time. My parents had a MESSY divorce, with my mom getting the house. I stay there. She’s never home - and instead lives with her boyfriend. My brother just left for college. Our relationship was unstable but in a good spot… until yesterday.
She came in to my work (a medical office), and in front of my coworkers and trainee, berated me about my brothers car. I had to borrow his, as I had a bad flat, and told her I was going to get it detailed as a thank you. I told her Tuesday (because I thought our work’s detail guy came then) but he didn’t so I had planned to have it cleaned that day after work instead. She called me a liar, and then texted me after she left that “this isn’t working out - and I should seek different arrangements” ( she threatens this often).
I’m not explaining this well - but my mom loves my brother, and loves to hate me. She doesn’t see me as her kid, but as an outsider that is out to get her. She loves me (usually in the form of gifts or favors) when she’s in the mood for it. I’m gonna seal the deal by giving a few examples of shit that’s happened since I moved home.
I will be honest, I do think it is deserved. I do forget to pick up the yard, and can get messy. I do let my laundry pile up. However, I prioritize keeping everything but my private space tidy. However I’ll also acknowledge 100% I could be doing more. I’ve really struggled to get things done lately.
To be fair, I don’t pay rent. However, my mom did start demanding rent from me after the issue with my grandparents. She did this after she found out what my repayment rate is to them, then matched it, and told me I should prioritize paying her first. For my pay, it is a very significant amount. However I wouldn’t have minded it… if it wasn’t obvious it was out of spite. Like she wants to stick it to me.
I’m exhausted and tired. Writing this came after a series of explosive arguments. I will take full accountability that I’m not the best daughter - but I just wish things weren’t like this.
Idk what I’m looking for, but whatever you have to say will really help.
I (21m) moved away (escaped) from my (59f) dBPD single mother a few weeks ago. I am now living 10hrs away from her in a uni dorm. I have gone LC since I moved out but she will not stop spam texting/spam calling me daily, despite me reiterating that I have study and am busy and am not on my phone, these often also come in late at night when I am either studying, sleeping, or winding down for the evening. It has now escalated to her threatening to call a wellness check on me if I did not reply to her 7 texts and 5 calls within an hour, after I explicitly told her I have an exam in a couple days worth 20% of my total grade that I need to study for and will not be contactable until Monday, she threw this particular hissy fit this evening at 8pm. The reason I have not gone NC entirely is because I am a full time double majoring pre-med student and receiving some financial aid from her parents to help pay for my education. For context, she is a NEET who lives 100% off her parents still, and they are always on ‘her side’ of any arguments, therefore I cannot go NC from her without losing financial aid (I don’t have any other family, my father left when I was young). I am so close to actually crashing out over this, I am so sick of it. Despite being diagnosed she refuses treatment nor will accept she even has mental illness/BPD, she has a shrink but there is only so much talk therapy is able to achieve. Posting after long time lurking because I honestly just don’t know what to do and am at my wits end with her insanity. I am beyond dreading returning for two weeks for the Christmas break, its going to be hell.
How do I peacefully live here until something changes like are there any words or reminders that I can get from you guys to keep me from engaging in anything with him that takes my energy.
It’s hard not to engage because he constantly baits me.
Recently apparently me setting a boundary up was “the cause of his stroke” although “it happened not at the same time as I put the boundary up”
But like talking to him or engaging with him gives me nothing but takes my energy and keeps me up at night.
I told him he’s affecting my mom and I’s health and he laughed and when confronted he gaslit.
I just can’t take this shit anymore.
I also want some phrases to say to him in order to grey rock him or whatever.
I’m just done with him trying to make me look like the crazy one after his constant abuse.
Anything suggestions please because maybe if I didn’t engage I’d be able to sleep.
I wish his ability to talk would just end. Like just stop. I’ve dealt with the damage and destruction my whole life. Should I willingly go be homeless, I don’t want to be here anymore. He makes me want to
My brother has been intercepting my emails to my mom after I went NC. He is very indifferent and doesn't take a side. But he told me I just need to chill out and move on because what happened was when we were kids.
My mom cheated on my dad, completely brainwashed us (parent alienation), kidnapped us out of state, and completely destroyed our relationship with our dad and his side of the family. Then she continued to poison us with lies and neglect/parentify me until the point that we were testifying in front of a judge to get a restraining order against my dad.
I realized all of this about 17, but by 19 my mom kicked me out because I MERE mentioned the idea of moving in with dad (I was depressed, couldn't hold a job, and she set deadlines I couldn't meet). So, I moved in with my dad, he got me in therapy, and weve been repairing our relationship.
All of this to say, it is hard when my brothers (who are still living with her) are flying monkeys and are against me in some cases, and now telling me to chill out. It is hard to not feel like this is all my fault because now I am on the other side of the fence.
My mom was diagnosed with it about 10 years ago and was temporarily on medication for it. At the time, I thought bpd was something else until I realized recently what it was. I always try to tell my mom she should seek some professional help in the nicest way because I’m her punching bag for everything. She always says “the medication interacts with my other ones” and doesn’t get any help. When she did receive help at that time, she claimed her psychologist was mean and cold.
Fast forward to now, she literally has no one but me and sometimes my brother and always wonders why people have “nothing to do with her” and is a victim and how she’s always been nice and kind to everyone but leaves out any details or misconstrues what she may have done to upset other people. She also does the “poor me” and how she’s all alone. Idk if this is bpd as well, but she also thinks a certain person is out to get her and is the reason why no one has anything to do with her and is ruining her life.
Sorry for the long vent!
I have been no contact with my uBPD mom and my uNPD/uAPD dad (not sure which because he will never get evaluated) for about seven years. While it's been painful, it was the safest thing for my kids and husband and I. It's never easy, but the past few weeks have been really hard.
My husband has been six for about six months. He doesn't issues and it's scary to see him hurt so much. He has an endoscopy and colonoscopy and luckily, no cancer. We will figure out the results in the next week. My husband's cousin, who is the nicest person, is pregnant and having serious issues. We hope that the baby is okay, but we don't know. I feel so bad for her and her husband because they are the exact kind of people who should be parents. They are amazing with their nieces, nephews and my kids. It's triggering because I lost my oldest to trisomy 18, and I know how much it hurts to wait around and have nothing to do about it, but be so nervous.
Then, there is my health. It's been a mess for a long time. I finally found a good rheumatologist. He has already helped my more in two visits than my last one did in years. Apparently, all my issues are part of a bigger one, mild hypermobility disorder. So far, I had issues with my reproductive system (had a hysterectomy ten years ago), hashimotto's, Sjogrines, celiac, and diabetes. He told me I am likely to suffer from Lupus eventually as well. He is starting me on meds and I believe I am on the right path. I finally don't feel like a hypochondriac.
But what killed me is he told me he would be happy to treat my mom and sister, as they have all the same things. I explained we are no contact. But I feel so conflicted. I know I can't tell them. Having access to my doctor would be too much. It's too close, but he is genuinely helping me. If they could get actual help that would be amazing. My sister is a full blown opioid addict. My mom is likely an addict as well, but benzo are more her game. I know I can't have them here. I know that they would use it as an excuse to hurt me and stalk me again. Butna part of me feels guilty because what if they could help them? I know it won't solve their issues, because they won't put any work in and there is a lot I have to do on my own.
The other thing that killed me was lurking on my dad's social media page. I have never checked his and only did so because of election craziness. This man abused me badly, and yet, he clearly misses me and my kids in a genuine way. It hurts to know he feels that way. He wasn't one to show much emotions towards me other than anger. I shouldn't feel bad for him, but I do.
From what I heard from my inside source, they are falling apart. My sister is hard into addiction and divorced one alcoholic for another. They live with my parents and they have had the police there several times. My sister's wife has passed out on the front lawn drunk more than once. My sister was screaming about her prescription at the doctor's office and got the police called on her. My parents are still very mentally unstable. The person I talked to always tells me I did the right thing in leaving and keeping my kids safe. My nephew lives in the middle of all this and it breaks me heart that I can't save him. I wish I could.
I have bipolar 2, so I am sure that between all that and the election, my kids being home sick and me not having a minute to myself, that it's a depressive part of the cycle. It will pass. But for now, I hurt emotionally and physically.
**Picture of three bebes snuggling at a cat cafe I came across randomly**
Hi Everyone,
I've been a part of this group since September and have been wanting to post for some time now. I am reaching 2 months of going NC with my UBPD mum. It's been a roller coaster and the first few weeks were excruciatingly hard for me. I thought I was getting better but now that my birthday and hers is coming up (our birthdays are a day apart) I've been feeling a lot of different things (guilt, a lot of sadness, confusion). I don't exactly know the point of this post hahaha, but I guess I'd like to gauge what others have done during birthdays. I feel very confused and silly.
Hi all,
My dad (60M) has BPD and has been abusive to me (31F) most of my life. Today he was particularly awful to me, and so I wrote this letter as a way to soothe myself, though I am still very upset. I've had a "neutral" relationship with him for the last couple of years with a few blow ups, and mostly I just share very superficial things with him for fear of setting him off. Today I called him and asked to see him this weekend, and he somehow spun into one of his rages where he was particularly hurtful to me and told me "I really don't like you, X. I really don't". I have cried for a few hours now about it. Despite me knowing that he is deeply unwell, it still feels absolutely horrible for your own parent to tell you that they don't like you.
I'm sharing for two reasons - support, of course, but also because maybe some of my words or experiences will resonate with you. You are not alone.
(Also, we live in Canada, hence some Canadianisms throughout.)
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Dear dad,
I am writing this letter after the painful phone call we just had, where you were really angry and told me you didn’t like me, and that you wanted to kill everyone in our family. I am doing my best to imagine that this isn’t the case, that you were just angry at me when you said it, and that you do like me. When you see me, you usually laugh and smile, and you gave me a nice birthday card, so I am trying to use that as evidence that there is still love and affection there.
In the call you asked me why I didn’t see you more from grade 8 onwards and I didn’t give a straight answer. I think the answer is multifaceted and complicated, and includes the 2.5 years that you refused to talk to me, but apart from that, the main reason that I did not spend more time with you is that I feared you. It breaks my heart to say this, but I will anyway: I’ve feared you my entire life, and I still fear you now.
I’m scared of you for a few reasons. The first reason is that I was threatened and insulted often by you growing up. You would often make comments when you were angry that you would break my limbs (e.g., “I will break your limbs if I ever catch you smoking,” or “I will break your arms if you dye your hair”). I was also repeatedly told that I was “stupid like your mother” and you would call me “shithead,” a word which still deeply upsets me when I hear it. I remember once (I think grade 7 or so) I put in some red hairspray/temporary dye from a spray can in my hair with my friends for Halloween, momentarily forgetting the threat that you had made. I spent the rest of the week terrified, knowing that I would be seeing you and there was a chance that you might notice the slight red hue in my hair. I desperately tried to get it out of my roots, praying that you wouldn’t notice. That weekend I came to your apartment and used our white comb. I was so mad at myself - the red hairspray got stuck in the comb and I did everything I could to get it out without you noticing that I was taking too long in the bathroom. I was so scared that you would hurt me. I remember I got most of it out but some of it stayed in between the tines of the comb. I remember being so scared that you would find it, so, if memory serves me correctly, I think I returned to clean the comb multiple times, but wouldn’t stay in the bathroom for long because it would arouse suspicion. I was genuinely convinced that you would scream at me or hurt me. Strangely, you did eventually see the red in the comb, but you didn’t say anything about my hair – I surmised that you didn’t notice. I planned to never dye my hair, though I did when I was much older, only dyeing the bottom so that you would be less angry. You never commented on it again, but that fear stayed with me for most of my life.
This was not the only time I felt scared. I remember feeling really scared in grade 9, when I sat in your car outside of the house you had bought and watched you kick the lemon tree that you had been growing for several years. I was devastated that you kicked the tree, destroyed it, and in that moment, it felt like a metaphor for me – I was just like this tree that you had grown for so long, and at any moment in a blind rage, you could destroy me too.
Several times while growing up you had also threatened to murder my family and especially the worker’s compensation board. I remember one time you yelled so loudly and for so long about murdering the worker’s compensation board and detailing your plan that I started to plan what I would do in the case that you did murder people. I distinctly remember thinking that your name would be on the headlines in the newspaper and that everyone would know that I was your daughter, the daughter of a murderer. I assumed in that case that I would have to change my last name and daydreamed about how I would do this. It breaks my heart now to think that I was planning this when I was only a young girl.
I wasn’t just terrified about my safety, though – I was terrified about yours, too. I remember you telling me after your heart attack when I was about ten years old that you debated not going to the hospital and just dying in your apartment alone. It was so scary hearing that my dad, who I loved and respected so much, almost made the decision to not live, and that I would have to go on without you in my life. I don’t have a distinct memory of this thought, but I imagine that at the time, I thought that I needed to show you how good life can be. I remember feeling responsible for your well-being. So, to help you, I decided that I needed to hug you more, to tell you I loved you more. But I remember when I did that for a few weeks or months, you got angry with me - you told me that it was weird that I kept trying to hug you and tell you I loved you. So, I stopped, and felt completely stuck – I didn’t know how to show you I loved you because when I did, I was punished. I still don’t know how to show you. I’ve never been taught.
I was also terrified about your safety in 2013 when you told me that you were going to take a trip across the country in a van and kill yourself afterward. You were very serious when you said this to me, and I was utterly convinced that it would happen. After that, I called a suicide hotline for the first time and asked what I could do for you. They said that they couldn’t do anything unless I gave them your name, but I decided not to do that. I assumed if I did, you would cut me out of your life the way you did so many family members. This was the first time someone suggested that I get some help. I was shocked - why would I need help? My dad is the one who is suicidal, not me. This is the first time someone suggested to me that maybe hearing this from my dad would be hard on me. For the first time I was told that I deserved to be taken care of too. This started my journey toward going to therapy for the first time and becoming a therapist myself.
These are just some of the moments, but there are many other flashbulb memories that I have. A main one that I spent a lot of time on in therapy is the time you told me that the only reason I was born was because you forgot to wear a condom at around age 11. I think the reason this memory has stayed with me for so long and has been so painful for me was because I had the realization at the time that I had ruined your life. It was all my fault, and if I hadn’t been born, you would be happy. I know now, after a lot of therapy, that this isn’t true, only because even if you do blame me for your life turning out the way it did, I didn’t ask to be born, and I truly have always done my best as a daughter, even if you disagree with that. I still feel so bad for that 11 year old girl.
Other things that scared me growing up come to mind, like telling me that any mark under a 92 was a failure (hence why I am perfectionist now and became a straight-A student – I was terrified that I would be chastised by you), or the time I mentioned not wanting to go to university out of province because I would miss my friends and you yelled at me for several hours. Another especially painful time was in grade 12, when you yelled at me so loudly at the park and a lady overheard and threatened to call the police on you. When she turned to make the call, you ran away. I’ve never seen you run before that day, and I was struck by how it seemed so easy for you to just run from me. That was one of the worst days of my life, especially since the lady, after returning (and not actually calling the police) commented that she didn’t believe you were my dad – she thought you were a boyfriend of mine. You then shut me out for an entire month, despite me calling you again and again and again. I was shocked (and elated) that you showed up at my high school graduation, only to tell me that my valedictorian speech was breathy. You never apologized for that day, and I don’t expect you ever will.
Another memory of me being scared: I remember vividly a time that I had asked you to recount a funny story, you were laughing with me, and then one of us knocked over a glass of coke, and that was enough to send you into a frenzy of anger – telling me how stupid I was for asking you to recount the story again. Or, the time I broke my ankle when I was 12 at an after-school program and needed to stay with you for a week while it healed when my mom went to work. You were extraordinarily angry with me that week, as if it were my fault that I was kicked off of the monkey bars by a girl two years older than me. I didn’t deserve that.
What made your anger so much worse was its unpredictability. I never knew which version of you I would get when I would go to your apartment for our biweekly weekend visits. Even now, if I ever do send this, if you ever did see this, I don’t know what version of you would read it – the fun, hilarious, fun-loving, amazing dad that I often had growing up, who would teach me things, do crafts with me and play “spies,” or the angry one who would threaten and humiliate me. Not knowing is what made being your daughter so terrifying and uncomfortable most of the time, even though I loved you.
There are so many more memories I could recount - so many moments of extreme pain and humiliation and fear in our relationship. These include telling me that you hated my maternal grandparents and that they are burning in hell as we speak. Calling me a “coke head” even though you misheard me and said I was doing karaoke, not cocaine, at my birthday party that week. Writing a letter that you wanted me to deliver to my mom to teach me how to better wipe myself after using the washroom. Putting your hands on my neck when I was upset and planning to leave your apartment.
I’ve learned through my 20s that two things can be true at the same time – that you can love someone and not have the kind of relationship you want with them simultaneously, and that that can be okay. I’ve accepted that I will always be afraid of you, I will always be shaped so much by your horrific and intense anger. And I will also always love you, because you’re my dad, because you loved me in many other ways growing up, because you cared for me the best you could despite how truly difficult it was for you. I wish we were closer and I am too afraid of you to become closer to you. Both are true for me.
So when I say I’m sorry that I didn’t see you more growing up, I am sorry AND I don’t think I could have handled it. Through literally 7+ years of therapy, I have learned that I didn’t deserve the anger you gave me, but it was the price I paid to be your daughter. I am glad I paid it, because I do love you, and I will continue to pay it to know you and be in your life, despite the looming threat of your suicide. It also means I have to be cautious with you, because I don’t want to be hurt. I have to keep my distance and only talk about surface-level topics - if I go deeper, I am often yelled at or threatened, and that’s terrifying and uncomfortable for me. I’d love for you to work on this, but I don’t know if this kind of deep change this late in life is possible for you, and that makes me unbelievably sad. There are therapies that can help you, but I don’t think you are open to going to them, especially since you’ve laughed it away when I’ve carefully mentioned it as a possibility.
I wish so badly that things could have been different, but they aren’t. For better or for worse, if it makes sense or not, I still love you anyway.
Love forever,
Your daughter
In classic chaos fashion, she did not send me an email. She sent me a text of a picture of an unsent email on her computer screen. You can't make these things up...
Anyway, to summarize past posts: combination of UBPD, unacknowledged dementia, and me getting engaged and then married has led to her completely spiraling for the last year and a half. After a series of almost constant unsolicited emails full of waifing and trauma dumping, I finally spoke up and said if she continued to send me emails like this or trap me into "I failed you" conversations in person, I would cut all contact (of course, I'm sure she doesn't remember this now).
We've been VLC since, but she still managed to tell me multiple times that she was completely unable to feel happy for my engagement/marriage and had dissociative episodes every time she thought about it. She says this is because she had such a bad marriage herself - knowing what I know about BPD, I don't buy it, and I think she just spirals beyond belief when I take any sort of symbolic step further towards independence.
She called me a few months before the wedding to waif at me about how "it must be SO HORRIBLE to see me unable to be happy for your engagement" and I basically snapped and said, "actually, it doesn't affect me at all, and I'm going to have a great time at my wedding and a wonderful marriage regardless of how you feel." She was SHOCKED that I wasn't thinking about her 24/7. Now, months after the wedding, it seems that she's forgotten that she's not the center of the universe. It seems as though she thinks she ruined my wedding ("what should have been a beautiful time became scary and hideous"). Again, I barely thought about her at all and couldn't give less of a shit how she feels about it. The wedding was in June and I've been blissfully NC with her since.
I feel like I know exactly why she sent this: she saw the election results, spent the day completely distraught, thought to herself "what else am I distraught over?" and just impulse acted - as usual, with absolutely no thought for the other person.
I have to see her this weekend at a party for my dad, and I thought I could handle it, but of course, now she's sent this. So in we go to another social occasion where I do everything possible to make sure she cannot get me alone for a single second.
If you're reading this far and you have any advice about what to do if she corners me and tries to have a DID YOU GET MY EMAIL?! sob talk, please share your pearls of wisdom. God knows I could use them.
I have a few select memories from childhood, but I feel like I do not remember much from before I moved out of my mother's house at the age of 17. is it my brain's way of surviving? in the last year, since the birth of my only child, I have had many dreams of pretty traumatic things.. but I am not sure if they actually happened. it is something I want to bring up with my counsellor, but I am unsure if I should. is it all in my head? I feel like I do not know what is even real. I am questioning my reality.
I've noticed a lot of people say their BPD parent refuses to apologize or admit they've done anything wrong. I would say my mom is the opposite, and apologizes all the time, but it's empty. She often doesn't understand what she's apologizing for, but knows that I have rebuked her for some behavior and will parrot back whatever I accused her of in her apology. I.e. "I'm sorry for not respecting your boundaries. I'm always working on myself to be a better mom."
It sounds kind of like she means it until you realize she apologizes for absolution. It's like she thinks, "Well I apologized, so I should be forgiven and we're all good." She went off the rails on me yesterday and texted an apology a couple hours after. I didn't respond, so she repeated the apology the next day. She knows I saw it the first time, but she repeated it to give me the nudge that she is waiting for me to say, "It's okay!" It has been slow, slow progress with my people pleasing entrainment, but I realized I don't have to give her that. I'm curious if many of you have this experience too.
Hello everyone,
I'm new here, although I've been reading for a while. I'm paying my cat tax - I found that little group of buddies hanging out in Istanbul, and I like to imagine it was a kitty conference!
The thing. Some months ago, I (37f) went non-contact with my BPD father, after a pretty nasty rage attack that he sprung on me while I was 12 weeks pregnant with my first child. It was the final straw. We'd had about seven years of extremely neutral contact. I live abroad and so he and my mum visit infrequently, and we only interact with my partner present. I've felt uncomfortable in those years sometimes at his volatile, childlike behaviour, but I've held it together and for the most, so has he. This last time I just didn't want to hold it together anymore. I don't want my son to ever see that sort of tantrum like behaviour in action. I sincerely hope that our kid goes his whole life without ever seeing a person with those terrible rage eyes, so black and wide. I know it's just the effect of adrenaline and cortisol, but you could be forgiven for thinking it's demonic. My dad had those eyes the last time I saw him, and the way he looked at me was with such disgust and hatred. It absolutely floored me emotionally for weeks after. He won't remember a thing he said or did. I have to remember it, though. It was always that way. I had to remember what he selectively edited out of his mind. A lonely way to live.
Since then I've had some further therapy on the topic, and really begun to process a lot of childhood memories. I've read a lot here, from all of you, which has helped me to feel not alone.
I guess the main thing I've come to accept is that with this disorder, they simply haven't got the full deck of emotional reasoning and processing skills. In my dad's case, he can only understand very simple emotions in other people, and only if it's an emotion he has had himself. I don't believe he can process anything more complex or layered. And his faulty interpretations of other people's reasons for their behaviour (even kids!) always assume the very worst: that they're spiteful, conniving, wicked, devious, actively trying to hurt others, in it for themselves, plotters, liars, rude, disruptive, etc. My experience of other adults is they're kinda more likely to be thoughtless and selfish or wrapped up in their own problems, but they're not generally sinister or 'against you'. It helps me to think that he's missing the bit of his brain that sees emotional nuances, context and levels to human behaviour. His world is a binary one where everyone except him might be acting out of pure spite everything they do.... and there is nothing I can do to change that! That is what he is and will always be.
I know that he abused me emotionally as a young teenager. The second I hit 12, it was over. He liked me when I was a little girl, because I was very loving, and I "belonged" to him. I made it pretty easy: I liked to draw pictures for people as love tokens and cuddle people, and I was quiet and did a lot of reading alone. Ideal child for a BPD sufferer, I think. Of course, you grow up and you get more complicated and separate and private in your experiences. All of that for him was absolutely intolerable, and he made my life hell for it with sulking and slamming doors and wild character assassinations. I remember once in the car, he got into a huge tantrum and shouted, 'I told my therapist I was happy because my little girl didn't shout at me today! Why are you so MEAN!' I didn't get in the car alone with him much after that.... I too became a spiteful, wicked, evil, selfish, thoughtless, devious person to him - as a 12 year old kid. My god, they are so young. I teach 12s now sometimes, and they're just.... well.... kids. They can wind you up, sure, but you can never lose sight of the obvious fact that they need love and care from adults, not verbal abuse and tantrums. I think he himself is about 12 in his emotional abilities, if not younger.
Anyway, to end this post I guess I've read so many stories here of all us struggling to make our parent somehow be our emotional age, to be accountable, equal adults, and it never works out. They haven't got it in them. The only thing they care about and can really feel as real is their own emotions and needs. And when they're not met, they'll turn nasty, abusive and even violent. Nothing you can do about it. So, I've given up. No more contact. No more dread. Freedom. Thank you very much for helping me and so many others if you've shared your story here sometime in the past months, and you are not alone.
An ode to cats:
Curled up in sunbeams,
a quiet purr fills the air,
dreams drift through soft fur.
I am the only child and for context, I am 41 and my mom is 72. We live near one another, I visit every 2 weeks, and call her daily. If I don't call, she'll wait until I do the next day, and ask me why I forgot about her and to think about how that makes her feel.
The truth is, I don't feel like talking all the time- but I feel guilty since we're getting older and such. My therapist and I have talked about basic boundary setting, like maybe texting instead of calling every day. I've also tried leading by, "Just doing a quick checkin, I have to go back to work." But, I feel like I need to do something more? Furthermore, she never calls me...like she waits for me to call her.
I don't know. I have my own battles to fight, psychologically and mentally, and having this 'obligation' makes me angry. Not to mention, half the time it turns into her talking about herself, mental health, or therapy session. That alone makes me want to crawl out of my skin or punch a wall. Has anyone managed to break the cycle, peacefully? The last thing I feel like doing is dealing with her feelings if I display any semblance of abandonment.
BTW, grateful that I can admit my frustration here, even if I still feel guilty.
I’ve been in and out of share houses for a few years, came back after my last relationship didn’t work out 2 years ago, dad finally had enough of mums shit and divorced her, sold the house. mum “wasnt ready to move out on her own” so she played the victim and got my brother and I (m20) to rent a house with her in the same suburb, and then next we know she extended the lease (it’s been a year) while someone is renting out her brand new house she was too scared to move into, but I lowkey think she wasn’t done “being a mum” aka felt we needed her.
She’s very textbook and I’ve been made to feel like my helpless younger self again, constantly denies and projects and ignores, forcing me into submission where it’s easier to concede and just mask. being here feels just like my childhood and I can’t take it anymore. Last straw was she plucked one of my moustache hairs casually in a conversation and told me I was overreacting when I said she violated my space, and later when she said she wished I wasn’t as smart and that I didn’t study psychology, (this bothered me because it proved to me that she new there was merit to what I was saying instead of gaslighting me and that she literally saw my actions as an extension of her and she 100% believes I studied psychology to spite her)
My long distance partner has been amazingly supportive during this time and it’s thanks to her I have the strength to finally heal in a truly safe space
My mom makes the holidays about her. If I want to celebrate a holiday with my partner’s family, it’s the end of the world. She thinks she should always come first cause she’s our mother and doesn’t deserve to be alone on the holidays.
I have been seeing a lot of posts regarding BPD parents and weddings recently. I am also getting married next year, and oh boy, it truly does bring out the worst in them. I send digital hugs to anyone who's in the same boat right now.
I am curious to hear from the people who got married: what worked for you? What didn't? What would you have done differently?
TW: abuse:
I remember on numerous occasions that my parents would say things that were really terrifying to a 4-5 year old. (“People are gonna laugh at you if you don’t get that right.” “ God is going to get you.””you never know, you might die from x”). Then when I’d ask for reassurance they’d never offer any. They would just mock me for my fears and reiterate the horror that was on its way to me if I wasn’t “careful.” They left me alone to imagine unending horror.
They’d mock my fear and offer to relief. Then, when I would get too scared and panic they would hit me.
They seemed to need this release, need to create a scenario where someone else got worked up emotionally then punished for it.
Anyone else? Why did the need to provoke me to lose control?