At the end of my rope... (sorry this is long)

[Guest guest]

Here I am sitting crying tonight. I am at my wits end. I sit here wondering

about what terrible thing I must have done in my life to deserve this madness

and pain. I am going to go LC, I just can't take it any longer. I am at the

point where I would go NC, except it will be only on my end since my conscience

is just not releasing me completely and I know I won't be able to ignore a call

or email if she contacts me. I am an only child and she has managed to alienate

just about everyone, so I can't abandon her completely.

Those of you who were kind enough to read some of my posts and have amazing

memories might recall that last December there was high drama surrounding my

mother's health. Three days before my finals began (as a first semester medical

student) she told me that she had just gotten back from the hospital ER where

she had taken herself at the insistence of some friends (she had been having

some chest pains). As you may imagine, I was a bad daughter for not even knowing

that she had gone to the hospital, but that's just a minor issue. At the ER they

had found nothing wrong with her heart, but the X-ray they took of her showed a

tiny lesion on her lung, which could have been a tumor. This news was very

upsetting and stressful, especially during finals week. My mind kept running

through various scenarios, one gloomier than the next, non-stop. The kids and I

went to visit her during winter break (a weak after finals), and she seemed

perfectly fine. She had plenty of energy and anger to berate me on a daily

basis. The doctors told her that she should get a follow-up scan in 6 months

(this May) to check and see if this was a tumor, in which case the next step

would be a biopsy.

Throughout the spring semester the berating, badgering, name-calling continued

with regularity. In fact, her BPD seemed to be flaring up progressively. Over

the past few months she has been single-mindedly obsessed with my father and all

the ways in which he (with the help of my grandparents, HER parents) has

" programmed " me on a " cellular level " to continue abusing and killing her even

after his death (he committed suicide 15 years ago). My father was physically

abusive, which I cannot and will not excuse. She was verbally abusive and at

times tried to reciprocate the physical abuse as well, which still does not

excuse his behavior, but certainly does not make her a completely innocent

victim either. He was an alcoholic with a horribly painful past. She was someone

with a painful past herself – her father and uncle were classic cases of NPD (my

grandfather, who is still alive, is really a textbook example and his brother

was worse), while her mother took out all her frustrations with her husband out

on her kids by beating them. I have tried, I have tried so hard to be kind and

understanding. I have forgiven my parents for the pain they have heaped upon me,

for unleashing their combined misery in my young and innocent life. Despite

this, I am still a horrible person. I am the world's most ungrateful daughter. I

am ruthless and callous. I have no empathy. How can I pretend that I am going to

be a doctor and care for people when I don't even care about my own mother, who

has been THE " greatest mother in the world " . How could I " use " my mother

throughout my childhood only to shatter all her " hopes and dreams " when I grew

up. I have ruined my mother's life and health, and now I am trying to " kill " her

by making her angry and giving her a heart attack.

So, in the final 2 weeks of school this spring semester, culminating in 4 exams,

one of which was a comprehensive exam covering all the material we have learned

over the past year, my mother's health problems flared up again. She was feeling

horribly, her heart was aching, her chest was aching, her arm was going numb,

she had vertigo and she was losing consciousness several times a day, according

to what she told me. She would be on the phone with me and then she would become

quiet for a minute and I would call out, then she would come back and say " I

just passed out again " . I was a COMPLETE basketcase. I was under so much stress

and pressure academically (I don't mean to sound full-of-myself, and when people

used to tell me that there is no schooling as rigorous as medical school, I

thought they were exaggerating, but I have come to find out that they weren't –

I studied pretty serious disciplines as an undergrad (biochem and computer

science) and I got a master's degree from a top 10 program in the country, but

NOTHING compares to medical school – the sheer volume of stuff you have to

learn, understand, remember then regurgitate and APPLY on an exam is

breathtaking). The situation with her health started pushing me over the edge.

Although, I would catch her off guard sometimes (when I would call and she would

be on the other line with someone and she'd switch over sounding very strong and

chipper, then suddenly assume her " frail old lady " voice as soon as she realized

I was on the line), and a part of me wondered how much of her illness was

psychological/psychosomatic, I still couldn't disregard it, not even one little

bit. Part of this has to do with the fact that I never saw the signs and never

anticipated my father's suicide, so ever since then I always choose to err on

the side of caution. I would rather be overly concerned and find out there's

nothing serious, then the opposite.

I found a good cardiologist and finally convinced her to go see him during the

last few days of school. They checked her and said that she might have a murmur

(I have had a murmur my whole life, and have had intermittent mild heart

problems throughout my life, so it didn't shock me too much). Regardless of my

comfort level with my own heart problems, any real heart problem she may have is

still very worrisome to me (first, because it appears as something new, and

second, because she is 60), but what is more worrisome to me is the situation

with her lung. She has yet to get the follow-up CT, I think. Although, she is

refusing to tell me when she is planning to get it, or even if she has already

gotten it. She has said several times that she is a poor, used, discarded

servant and nobody is there to care for her and take her to the doctor (mind

you, despite all her real or imagined health problems, she just planted 20 trees

in her yard a week ago and she can still muster up enough energy to go off on me

for 30 minutes without taking a single deep breath, not to mention that she is a

retire (by her choice) university professor and perfectly spry and capable of

driving herself to the doctor). Over the last couple of weeks she has also told

me in NO uncertain terms that she will not tell me anything about the medical

findings from this point on. Today, she made it clear that it was " payback " for

the secrets I have kept from her – she is trying to show me how it feels to be

" in the dark " (never mind the fact that the only reason I ever kept secrets from

her is that the smallest thing could make her become unhinged and completely

lose it, and every time she would plow full force into me I would find myself on

the brink of suicidal thoughts). Furthermore, the condition for her to " share "

her life with me is for me to " get rid of " my husband. As long as he is in my

life, she will not share anything with me from now on.

Going back to the day after my last exam (May 15), I called her in the morning

and asked her how she was. Her response: " Perfectly fine, never better! " I was

relieved and irate at the same time. She had been playing the frail little old

lady card on me for two weeks, almost derailing my exams, and then she was

suddenly " perfect " ?

What is ironic is that she claims that I make her angry without regard to her

heart issues, but never mind that I have had heart problems since the age of 4

and she has never once remembered them during her rages (only afterwards she

would sometimes become contrite when she saw how bad a shape I was in, on the

few occasions when I would become so ill that it would make me hysterical and I

would turn blue during her rages). Not to mention that she has no consideration

for my stress level during as important a time in my life as year-end exams.

Things were a little bit better in the second half of May, but then at the end

she began spiraling down again. I knew it was coming. The anniversary of my

aunt's (her sister's) death was this week and she has ZERO emotional regulation,

she has absolutely never been able to handle death. Last week she was

practically starving herself and sounding (at least on the phone with me) like

she was two breaths away from passing out (or even away!) any minute. At the end

of last week she got a call from the cardiologist regarding some test (which she

has not revealed to me) they had done – they had the results and needed to

discuss them with her in person. I got more worried, but she was bullying me

still and I was trying not to get sucked into the vortex. Then last Saturday, I

talked to her, and while the conversation itself was terrible (I actually

recorded that conversation and I am glad I did, because at one point I literally

thought maybe I was going CRAZY, because of the illogical things she was saying

- up was down and down was up, I had to go back and listen to the recording

later to be reassured that I hadn't lost it, and I was being perfectly

logical!), what got to me was the fact that she had a bit of a cough. I wasn't

sure if she had a bit of a cold or allergies, but I couldn't help wondering if

it was something with her lung. I had a very fitful night Saturday/Sunday and

barely slept.

On Sunday, I caved to my inner softness, called her up and offered to bring my

kids to spend part of their summer vacation with her (they won't finish school

for another week). She perked up immediately, which I had expected. I know she

is really depressed about her sister and I know she is missing my kids

(somewhere amid the BPD madness there is also a fierce, though often twisted,

love, and I know she loves my kids more than life itself, in her own way), so I

was hoping that spending time with the kids would get her past this tough

junction. She told me that she would pay for the kids' plane tickets but NOT for

mine (my mother is wealthy, not Wall Street CEO filthy rich, but very wealthy,

while I am in a totally impecunious state, burdened by massive student loans).

Her reason: if it weren't for my husband being in my life (and in my home), she

would come to MY house, then she could take the kids on a nice vacation to

Florida, California and the Grand Canyon and I wouldn't have to spend any money,

but she'll be damned if she will spend a penny to accommodate my bad life

choices and him. I wouldn't be able to go on vacation with them because school

starts again in July for me, so I would basically take a weekend trip to drop

off the kids with her. I asked her if she felt physically well enough for such

vigorous vacation plans and she insisted that she was fine, and if she felt

unwell she would immediately buy tickets for me to come pick up the kids from

wherever they would be with her. Things seemed to be looking up (never mind the

fact that I was going to have to shell out around $600 for my ticket, I was

willing to do that, to give her a chance to enjoy part of her summer in the

company of my kids – who really are walking rays of sunshine, although I may be

biased in my assessment!

I told the kids about these plans on Sunday and they have been excited. Then for

the past 3 days, I tried to pin down some dates with her and work out a good

itinerary. I offered to fly the kids to Orlando (since she was planning to take

them to Disney World, the new Harry Potter park, etc.), then I asked her for a

date (or at least a range) when she would be willing/able to bring them back. My

husband will not be living at home at the end of the summer (we had to move for

me to go to med school and he gave up a great job to support me during this

first year, we had hoped that he would find a job near my school, but so far he

has been unsuccessful locally, and we are barely holding our finances together,

so he will be moving for a new job in August). This whole time she has been

hammering on the fact that she " CANNOT " come to my home to see me or pick up my

kids as long as " HE is there " , since it will cause her to " have a massive heart

attack and die on the spot " . Well, I kept telling her that he would not be here

in August, so she can come bring the kids and stay for a visit. That is not good

enough – as long as he is still in my life then " it is just a charade " . She

refuses to " be kept in a small compartment " in my life (it is not my husband or

I who have a problem with her coming to visit, she can come and go ANY time, he

is even willing to make himself very scarce when she is around (which he has

done in the past)), since this is simply the " continuation of [my] father's

plan " (remember that my father killed himself 15 years ago!). He wanted her to

" be a servant and raise his child " and then " throw her out " of my life, and I

have completed his plan! He was " constantly brainwashing " me and " excluding " her

from my life and HE is the reason why I do not love and respect her. She has

always served everyone, she has been victimized, she has suffered, she has moved

mountains to give me the life of a princess (this would be funny if it weren't

so horribly tragic and I would laugh if I weren't feeling like howling right

now!), and then she has been cast aside because of my father's (the evil

mastermind!) plan to eliminate her from my life. Btw, she is all about personal

responsibility until it becomes about her.

I forgot to mention that during our recorded conversation last Saturday she told

me that unless I was going to admit, accept and declare repeatedly that she is

the world's most amazing mother, I don't deserve for her to speak to me.

So, my kids talked to her on Monday and my sweet older son drafted a wonderful

itinerary for their vacation. He worked on it for two evenings and emailed it to

her last night. Yesterday evening I made a bunch of reservations and put tickets

on hold. The reservations expired before I could get a straight answer from her

about her preferred dates. So I spent another hour making more reservations this

evening and putting more tickets on hold. Finally, as I was finalizing

everything and getting ready to start purchasing the tickets, she lost it. She

called me every name under the sun – I am a base and venal person, I don't love

her, I have never loved her, I have never respected her, I have never treated

her like a mother, if I were capable of honest reflection then I would know that

she is obviously right, but since I am too blinded and brainwashed to see the

truth I will continue to abuse her, I am a terrible mother compared to her, I am

a ruthless, heartless person devoid of empathy, how can I even think about being

a doctor, I wouldn't care if she had a heart attack and died right now while

talking to me, I probably wouldn't even think about it, I was continuing my

father's abuse of her, I owe her everything and she did everything for me and

sacrificed her life and I am a heartless ingrate, etc. etc.

At this point, my own heart started acting up (I get really bad palpitations

when I am under a lot of stress, my heart starts beating very erratically, this

is not something I openly share with people (except for this wonderful group of

strangers on the internet!), but my mother (along with my husband and my 2 best

friends) knows this about me – she was there when I was a candidate for OPEN

HEART SURGERY at age 5, thankfully I was treated and was able to recover from

the more major issues without needing the surgery! I told her that since I was

such a terrible person and basically replacement of my father in her life it

would be best for us to stop the conversation at this point. She hung up, then

called back and yelled at me 3-4 more times (and hung up each time after she was

done berating me). She hasn't called in the last 30 minutes or so (I had to

interrupt this LONG post several times to answer her calls)… and I am hoping she

won't call any more (at least not tonight, please!).

I am tired, I am spent, I am done… I can't keep spinning in this mad vortex and

continue to meet the demands of my own life. I am finally so close to achieving

my dream (I have wanted to be a doctor since I was 4! and amidst all the drama

and trauma, I got so hopelessly derailed that there were times I thought I would

never get to this point). I just finished my first year in medical school, I

have a chance to be who I have been born to be (I know it sounds cheesy, but I

have always felt like medicine is my calling, I know even most (if not all) of

my classmates think that " medicine as a calling " is such a crazy, " quaint " ,

idealistic notion, but I do think it is a calling – being able to put the needs

and the well-being of others, most often complete strangers, above your own, to

serve them in their most challenging hour, to hold the responsibility and the

privilege of guarding someone else's health and life, is deeply meaningful to

me). I want to do this for myself, I also want to do this for my children. I

have 3 more years before getting my M.D. and getting my first job as a resident

doctor. I have never been this close and I don't even want to consider the

possibility of not getting there.

I know I am already feeling guilty about the fact that I am contemplating the

decision to stop contacting her. I know she will use that decision to skewer me

– she will paint and see me as heartless, abandoning her especially when she is

having health problems. She will never let me forget it or live it down. I can

already feel my resolve weakening and I know I will probably not be able to go

more than a few weeks without finally breaking down and calling her. I also

don't know what to tell my kids. I feel terrible about setting them up for such

disappointment about this vacation (I just can't put any more energy into making

it happen), I wish I hadn't told them about the plan until I knew for sure

(tickets purchased!) that it was going to happen. I don't know where and how to

guide their relationship with their grandmother. I know I will answer her calls

and I will acknowledge her emails. I am also feeling so much grief at the

realization that my relationship with my mother is never going to be healthy. I

miss her and I love her and I want to be happy with her. I want her to love me

more than she hates my husband. I want her to love me more than she hates my

father. I want her to STOP, stop living in the past, stop assuming and relishing

the victim role, stop being so destructively (and self-destructively!)

self-centered. I want her to stop finding fault with everyone and everything. I

want her to learn to forgive and FORGET. I want her to see the world in all its

shades of gray. I want her to stop thinking that it is OK for her to insult

everyone else and to stop walking around with the assumption that everyone

offends, slights, demeans and disrespects her. I want her to stop fixating on

assumptions and wild theories and convincing herself that they are true by

repeating them incessantly (e.g., " your father has programmed you on a cellular

level to hate me " ). And this list can go on and on… but I know none of these

changes will happen, the ugly monster that is BPD is never going to let her go

and is never going to stop torturing her (I know she is tortured and miserable)

and me. I feel so stuck – I don't know how to fix this, I don't know how to live

with this and I don't know how to get out of it.

For me things are complicated by the fact that I am an only child, and even more

complicated by the fact that I lost my father so tragically (yes, I know there

was nothing I could have done, but knowing and feeling are two different

things), and I feel like my mother knows that she can exploit these weaknesses

of mine.

For a couple of years things seemed to be getting better for me (and even for my

mother I think too, objectively, based on other people's observations) – after I

figured out that I wasn't crazy, that the madness was real and even had a

3-letter acronym, after I read books and joined this group, after I learned how

to set at least a few small but firm boundaries, I felt like I had finally

emerged from a dark and scary place, I felt like I had a handle on things, I was

managing, I was coping, I had even found peace with most of it, but during this

past year things have been spiraling towards the abyss again. I am exhausted, I

can't do this any longer. I have spent 30 years of my life living under

continued emotional and psychological stress and strain… I can't do it any

longer, I am at my wit's end.

Thank you for letting me vent. If you have read this far, thank you, thank you,

for your patience and kindness. I am sorry I rambled on for so long.

Arianna