New to Group (kinda long, but had to vent)

[Guest guest]

Good Morning! I'm new here and just wanted to take a minute to introduce myself.

First of all, let me say that I am so happy to have found this group. I have

been reading the posts for a little while now, and it has been such a comfort to

me to know there are people out there that really get it.

Now about me - I am 43, married, and mother to the most beautiful, wonderful, 6

y/o little girl. I also have the most amazing, wonderful, patient husband. I

thank God every day for blessing me with such a loving family. It really helps

make up for all of the unconditional love and acceptance I missed as a child.

Now, a little about what brought me to this group - My mother ( " nada " ) attempted

suicide last November. We had gotten into an argument the day before because she

wanted me, as usual, to drop everything I was doing and call the doctor for her

to try and get a prescription that needed preauthorization. I knew it would

involve me waiting half a day for someone from the doctor's office to call back,

and besides, there was no reason other than pure laziness that she could not do

that for herself. I politely told her that I was really busy, and that I thought

this was something that she should handle herself. Of course, she got angry and

hung up on me. But me, always trying to be the " good " daughter, called the

doctor for her anyway. The nurse called back and said that the person who did

the preauthorizations was not there that day, and she would have her call me

back the next day. I called mom back, explained the situation, and told her I

was working on it, but she need to be patient and wait until the next day.

Well, I guess things were not moving fast enough for her, because the next

morning she called me all raging and hysterical saying things like, " I'm tired

of everything and everybody and I'm just going to end it! " Then she hung up on

me. My first thought was to just ignore her (we've been down that road so many

times). But, the little voice inside me said that I'd better take this one

seriously. I called my husband at work, and he agreed with me that it was

probably just another idle threat, but I should take it seriously.

When I got to her house, I didn't get an answer at the door, so I used me key

and went inside. I found her on the floor next to her bed, and rushed over to

check her. She was still alive, but really out of it and mumbling incoherently.

She finally managed a very angry slur - " leave me alone, go away, and let me

die! " I asked her what she had taken, and she pointed to an empty bottle of

hydrocodone on her bedside table. I frantically dialed 911 and an ambulance was

dispatched. Then, I called my brother.

My brother showed up right before the ambulance got there. The paramedics were

able to revive her enough to find out that she had only taken 4 of them - an

overdose, but not lethal. At the hospital, they stablized her and made her drink

the charcoal stuff, etc. She was still out of it, so I talked to the doctor and

gave him my version of what happened. After a while, when she had come around a

little, she told the nurse that she wanted to see her children. The nurse came

out to the waiting room and told us. My brother refused to go back and see her,

so I went alone.

The nurse warned me on the way back, that my mother was very angry and

beligerent. As soon as I got in the room, she unloaded on me with a torrent of

angry insults. She was mad at me because I didn't let her die. She said that my

brother and I didn't really love her and just wanted to put her away in a home

somewhere. I told her that it wasn't true, that if I didn't love her, I wouldn't

have come to her house to check on her. She snapped back at me, " well, you came,

but you didn't really want to! " I didn't say anything, but I was thinking to

myself, " Hell no, I didn't want to! Who wants to find their mother on the floor,

od'd on pain killers? " Anyway, it went on and on like that, for what seemed an

eternity, until I just couldn't take the barrage of painful insults anymore. I

said, " I don't have to listen to this " , and walked out of the room.

She was admitted to the Psych hospital the next day. I went to her house, packed

her a bag with things I thought she might need, and took it over there during

the visiting hour. As I anticipated, Mom was a completely different person when

I saw her - all sweet and humble - a helpless little waif. She stopped short of

apologizing for her apalling behavior in the E/R the day before, choosing

instead to justify it by saying that she was, " really out of her head on drugs "

and didn't remember anything. (How convenient). She denied that she tried to

kill herself. When I asked her, " Mom, do you remember taking an overdose of pain

pills? " , she answered, " I did, but I needed them, I was in so much pain " , then

added, " By the way, I didn't try to kill myself. If I wanted to kill myself, I

would have taken the whole damn bottle " .

She was in the Psych hospital for about 5 days. Of course, she HATED the

Psychiatrist there, but LOVED all of the attention she got. She talked about how

she was helping her roomate, a lady who had not eaten or spoken in 3 days.

Apparently, after my mom " ministered " to her and prayed for her, she made a

miraculous recovery. The roomate even came up to me one day when I was there

visiting and told me what a " wonderful person " my mother was.

The day before her discharge, I requested that her therapist give me a call. I

was afraid that he was only getting her version of things, and it was obvious to

me she was deeply in denial and I felt that he needed to know the truth. He

called me back that evening. I asked him to please be straight with me about her

condition. He told me, " Your mother has Borderline Personality Disorder and

Dependent Personality Disorder " . I cried from sheer relief I think. After all

these years, I finally had a diagnosis. I finally had a name for the madness. I

felt somewhat vindicated. I always knew there was something wrong, terribly

wrong with my mother, but despite going through years of therapy myself, I never

knew what it was. Now that I had a name for the MONSTER, maybe I could begin to

deal with it once and for all.

The therapist at the hospital was great. He was very understanding and

sympathetic. He gave me some resources to help me further understand BPD. For

the first time in my life, someone understood, and someone actually cared about

ME, about what it was doing to ME and my family. He asked if I would like to see

a family therapist and suggested that it may help my brother and I to go with

her. I agreed, and he set it up for us.

Nada went to one session with the family therapist, and that was it. I think she

thought that it was going to be all about her, and that the therapist would

agree with her that her children were selfish and disrespectful. She really

didn't want to hear what my brother and I were saying. The family therapist was

great. She obviously has had a lot of experience dealing with people just like

my nada, because she didn't put up with any of her crap. She really put nada in

her place, and nada was NOT happy. Nada canceled out on the next therapy

session. She told me that she felt like she was " at a disadvantage " and needed

more time. We got into it again on the phone because I told her that if she

wanted to cancel, she would have to call the therapist herself. She twisted

things all around like she always does and made it sound like it was all my idea

to go in the first place, even though it was HER therapist at the hospital that

set up the appointment, with her blessing. She was all about going when she

thought it was going to be all about her, but when the tables turned, all of a

sudden, it was MY idea.

I am continuing to go to the therapist myself. My brother has attended a few

sessions with me as well. I feel like I am really starting to make some

progress, but it is a long journey ahead. I have already made some really

positive changes in my life and have had a couple of breakthroughs. Of course

things have gotten worse with Nada, but I was anticipating that. I'm changing

the rules on her. But, that's for another time.

Sorry this post was so long. I just needed to vent and share it with people who

really know where I'm coming from. Thanks so much for indulging me!

[Guest guest]

Hi ,

Welcome to the Group. Your description of your nada's behaviors sound all too

familiar. While I'm sorry that you and your brother have had to experience such

stressful behaviors and incidents, I'm also glad for you that you have such a

supportive brother, and therapist, and husband. Having other people give you

validation like that is so incredibly healing. Psychiatrists/psychologists who

understand and recognize borderline pd would seem to be on the rare side, so,

you're lucky your nada was evaluated by someone who was able to diagnose her

accurately.

If you haven't already done so, I highly recommend reading up about borderline

pd: knowledge is power! There are so many good books out there now, including

" Stop Walking On Eggshells " , " Understanding The Borderline Mother " , " Surviving a

Borderline Parent " , and " Boundaries " to name some that get referred to here a

lot.

So, welcome. We're about sharing our experiences and opinions, and giving each

other support and validation. We've all been there in some form or other and we

definitely " get it. "

-Annie

>

> Good Morning! I'm new here and just wanted to take a minute to introduce

myself. First of all, let me say that I am so happy to have found this group. I

have been reading the posts for a little while now, and it has been such a

comfort to me to know there are people out there that really get it.

>

> Now about me - I am 43, married, and mother to the most beautiful, wonderful,

6 y/o little girl. I also have the most amazing, wonderful, patient husband. I

thank God every day for blessing me with such a loving family. It really helps

make up for all of the unconditional love and acceptance I missed as a child.

>

> Now, a little about what brought me to this group - My mother ( " nada " )

attempted suicide last November. We had gotten into an argument the day before

because she wanted me, as usual, to drop everything I was doing and call the

doctor for her to try and get a prescription that needed preauthorization. I

knew it would involve me waiting half a day for someone from the doctor's office

to call back, and besides, there was no reason other than pure laziness that she

could not do that for herself. I politely told her that I was really busy, and

that I thought this was something that she should handle herself. Of course, she

got angry and hung up on me. But me, always trying to be the " good " daughter,

called the doctor for her anyway. The nurse called back and said that the person

who did the preauthorizations was not there that day, and she would have her

call me back the next day. I called mom back, explained the situation, and told

her I was working on it, but she need to be patient and wait until the next day.

>

> Well, I guess things were not moving fast enough for her, because the next

morning she called me all raging and hysterical saying things like, " I'm tired

of everything and everybody and I'm just going to end it! " Then she hung up on

me. My first thought was to just ignore her (we've been down that road so many

times). But, the little voice inside me said that I'd better take this one

seriously. I called my husband at work, and he agreed with me that it was

probably just another idle threat, but I should take it seriously.

>

> When I got to her house, I didn't get an answer at the door, so I used me key

and went inside. I found her on the floor next to her bed, and rushed over to

check her. She was still alive, but really out of it and mumbling incoherently.

She finally managed a very angry slur - " leave me alone, go away, and let me

die! " I asked her what she had taken, and she pointed to an empty bottle of

hydrocodone on her bedside table. I frantically dialed 911 and an ambulance was

dispatched. Then, I called my brother.

>

> My brother showed up right before the ambulance got there. The paramedics were

able to revive her enough to find out that she had only taken 4 of them - an

overdose, but not lethal. At the hospital, they stablized her and made her drink

the charcoal stuff, etc. She was still out of it, so I talked to the doctor and

gave him my version of what happened. After a while, when she had come around a

little, she told the nurse that she wanted to see her children. The nurse came

out to the waiting room and told us. My brother refused to go back and see her,

so I went alone.

>

> The nurse warned me on the way back, that my mother was very angry and

beligerent. As soon as I got in the room, she unloaded on me with a torrent of

angry insults. She was mad at me because I didn't let her die. She said that my

brother and I didn't really love her and just wanted to put her away in a home

somewhere. I told her that it wasn't true, that if I didn't love her, I wouldn't

have come to her house to check on her. She snapped back at me, " well, you came,

but you didn't really want to! " I didn't say anything, but I was thinking to

myself, " Hell no, I didn't want to! Who wants to find their mother on the floor,

od'd on pain killers? " Anyway, it went on and on like that, for what seemed an

eternity, until I just couldn't take the barrage of painful insults anymore. I

said, " I don't have to listen to this " , and walked out of the room.

>

> She was admitted to the Psych hospital the next day. I went to her house,

packed her a bag with things I thought she might need, and took it over there

during the visiting hour. As I anticipated, Mom was a completely different

person when I saw her - all sweet and humble - a helpless little waif. She

stopped short of apologizing for her apalling behavior in the E/R the day

before, choosing instead to justify it by saying that she was, " really out of

her head on drugs " and didn't remember anything. (How convenient). She denied

that she tried to kill herself. When I asked her, " Mom, do you remember taking

an overdose of pain pills? " , she answered, " I did, but I needed them, I was in

so much pain " , then added, " By the way, I didn't try to kill myself. If I wanted

to kill myself, I would have taken the whole damn bottle " .

>

> She was in the Psych hospital for about 5 days. Of course, she HATED the

Psychiatrist there, but LOVED all of the attention she got. She talked about how

she was helping her roomate, a lady who had not eaten or spoken in 3 days.

Apparently, after my mom " ministered " to her and prayed for her, she made a

miraculous recovery. The roomate even came up to me one day when I was there

visiting and told me what a " wonderful person " my mother was.

>

> The day before her discharge, I requested that her therapist give me a call. I

was afraid that he was only getting her version of things, and it was obvious to

me she was deeply in denial and I felt that he needed to know the truth. He

called me back that evening. I asked him to please be straight with me about her

condition. He told me, " Your mother has Borderline Personality Disorder and

Dependent Personality Disorder " . I cried from sheer relief I think. After all

these years, I finally had a diagnosis. I finally had a name for the madness. I

felt somewhat vindicated. I always knew there was something wrong, terribly

wrong with my mother, but despite going through years of therapy myself, I never

knew what it was. Now that I had a name for the MONSTER, maybe I could begin to

deal with it once and for all.

>

> The therapist at the hospital was great. He was very understanding and

sympathetic. He gave me some resources to help me further understand BPD. For

the first time in my life, someone understood, and someone actually cared about

ME, about what it was doing to ME and my family. He asked if I would like to see

a family therapist and suggested that it may help my brother and I to go with

her. I agreed, and he set it up for us.

>

> Nada went to one session with the family therapist, and that was it. I think

she thought that it was going to be all about her, and that the therapist would

agree with her that her children were selfish and disrespectful. She really

didn't want to hear what my brother and I were saying. The family therapist was

great. She obviously has had a lot of experience dealing with people just like

my nada, because she didn't put up with any of her crap. She really put nada in

her place, and nada was NOT happy. Nada canceled out on the next therapy

session. She told me that she felt like she was " at a disadvantage " and needed

more time. We got into it again on the phone because I told her that if she

wanted to cancel, she would have to call the therapist herself. She twisted

things all around like she always does and made it sound like it was all my idea

to go in the first place, even though it was HER therapist at the hospital that

set up the appointment, with her blessing. She was all about going when she

thought it was going to be all about her, but when the tables turned, all of a

sudden, it was MY idea.

>

> I am continuing to go to the therapist myself. My brother has attended a few

sessions with me as well. I feel like I am really starting to make some

progress, but it is a long journey ahead. I have already made some really

positive changes in my life and have had a couple of breakthroughs. Of course

things have gotten worse with Nada, but I was anticipating that. I'm changing

the rules on her. But, that's for another time.

>

> Sorry this post was so long. I just needed to vent and share it with people

who really know where I'm coming from. Thanks so much for indulging me!

>

>

>

[Guest guest]

I think your story is amazing and inspiring. You are awesome! I love the

part when you said the roommate in the mental hospital told you what a

wonderful person your mother is. THAT HAPPENED TO ME EVERY DAY OF MY

CHILDHOOD! It was always at church and my mother would go dump on the other

church ladies about what a piece of shit I was. The ladies would then come

try to inspire me to be a better daughter by telling me how lovely and

wonderful my mother is. And when you tell me the same story in context of

the hospital - I start to think - wow, that entire church must have been a

mental ward.

So thank you, I can't wait to tell my T (short for therapist) about that.

On Wed, Feb 23, 2011 at 1:03 PM, anuria67854 wrote:

>

>

> Hi ,

>

> Welcome to the Group. Your description of your nada's behaviors sound all

> too familiar. While I'm sorry that you and your brother have had to

> experience such stressful behaviors and incidents, I'm also glad for you

> that you have such a supportive brother, and therapist, and husband. Having

> other people give you validation like that is so incredibly healing.

> Psychiatrists/psychologists who understand and recognize borderline pd would

> seem to be on the rare side, so, you're lucky your nada was evaluated by

> someone who was able to diagnose her accurately.

>

> If you haven't already done so, I highly recommend reading up about

> borderline pd: knowledge is power! There are so many good books out there

> now, including " Stop Walking On Eggshells " , " Understanding The Borderline

> Mother " , " Surviving a Borderline Parent " , and " Boundaries " to name some that

> get referred to here a lot.

>

> So, welcome. We're about sharing our experiences and opinions, and giving

> each other support and validation. We've all been there in some form or

> other and we definitely " get it. "

>

> -Annie

>

>

>

> >

> > Good Morning! I'm new here and just wanted to take a minute to introduce

> myself. First of all, let me say that I am so happy to have found this

> group. I have been reading the posts for a little while now, and it has been

> such a comfort to me to know there are people out there that really get it.

> >

> > Now about me - I am 43, married, and mother to the most beautiful,

> wonderful, 6 y/o little girl. I also have the most amazing, wonderful,

> patient husband. I thank God every day for blessing me with such a loving

> family. It really helps make up for all of the unconditional love and

> acceptance I missed as a child.

> >

> > Now, a little about what brought me to this group - My mother ( " nada " )

> attempted suicide last November. We had gotten into an argument the day

> before because she wanted me, as usual, to drop everything I was doing and

> call the doctor for her to try and get a prescription that needed

> preauthorization. I knew it would involve me waiting half a day for someone

> from the doctor's office to call back, and besides, there was no reason

> other than pure laziness that she could not do that for herself. I politely

> told her that I was really busy, and that I thought this was something that

> she should handle herself. Of course, she got angry and hung up on me. But

> me, always trying to be the " good " daughter, called the doctor for her

> anyway. The nurse called back and said that the person who did the

> preauthorizations was not there that day, and she would have her call me

> back the next day. I called mom back, explained the situation, and told her

> I was working on it, but she need to be patient and wait until the next day.

> >

> > Well, I guess things were not moving fast enough for her, because the

> next morning she called me all raging and hysterical saying things like,

> " I'm tired of everything and everybody and I'm just going to end it! " Then

> she hung up on me. My first thought was to just ignore her (we've been down

> that road so many times). But, the little voice inside me said that I'd

> better take this one seriously. I called my husband at work, and he agreed

> with me that it was probably just another idle threat, but I should take it

> seriously.

> >

> > When I got to her house, I didn't get an answer at the door, so I used me

> key and went inside. I found her on the floor next to her bed, and rushed

> over to check her. She was still alive, but really out of it and mumbling

> incoherently. She finally managed a very angry slur - " leave me alone, go

> away, and let me die! " I asked her what she had taken, and she pointed to an

> empty bottle of hydrocodone on her bedside table. I frantically dialed 911

> and an ambulance was dispatched. Then, I called my brother.

> >

> > My brother showed up right before the ambulance got there. The paramedics

> were able to revive her enough to find out that she had only taken 4 of them

> - an overdose, but not lethal. At the hospital, they stablized her and made

> her drink the charcoal stuff, etc. She was still out of it, so I talked to

> the doctor and gave him my version of what happened. After a while, when she

> had come around a little, she told the nurse that she wanted to see her

> children. The nurse came out to the waiting room and told us. My brother

> refused to go back and see her, so I went alone.

> >

> > The nurse warned me on the way back, that my mother was very angry and

> beligerent. As soon as I got in the room, she unloaded on me with a torrent

> of angry insults. She was mad at me because I didn't let her die. She said

> that my brother and I didn't really love her and just wanted to put her away

> in a home somewhere. I told her that it wasn't true, that if I didn't love

> her, I wouldn't have come to her house to check on her. She snapped back at

> me, " well, you came, but you didn't really want to! " I didn't say anything,

> but I was thinking to myself, " Hell no, I didn't want to! Who wants to find

> their mother on the floor, od'd on pain killers? " Anyway, it went on and on

> like that, for what seemed an eternity, until I just couldn't take the

> barrage of painful insults anymore. I said, " I don't have to listen to

> this " , and walked out of the room.

> >

> > She was admitted to the Psych hospital the next day. I went to her house,

> packed her a bag with things I thought she might need, and took it over

> there during the visiting hour. As I anticipated, Mom was a completely

> different person when I saw her - all sweet and humble - a helpless little

> waif. She stopped short of apologizing for her apalling behavior in the E/R

> the day before, choosing instead to justify it by saying that she was,

> " really out of her head on drugs " and didn't remember anything. (How

> convenient). She denied that she tried to kill herself. When I asked her,

> " Mom, do you remember taking an overdose of pain pills? " , she answered, " I

> did, but I needed them, I was in so much pain " , then added, " By the way, I

> didn't try to kill myself. If I wanted to kill myself, I would have taken

> the whole damn bottle " .

> >

> > She was in the Psych hospital for about 5 days. Of course, she HATED the

> Psychiatrist there, but LOVED all of the attention she got. She talked about

> how she was helping her roomate, a lady who had not eaten or spoken in 3

> days. Apparently, after my mom " ministered " to her and prayed for her, she

> made a miraculous recovery. The roomate even came up to me one day when I

> was there visiting and told me what a " wonderful person " my mother was.

> >

> > The day before her discharge, I requested that her therapist give me a

> call. I was afraid that he was only getting her version of things, and it

> was obvious to me she was deeply in denial and I felt that he needed to know

> the truth. He called me back that evening. I asked him to please be straight

> with me about her condition. He told me, " Your mother has Borderline

> Personality Disorder and Dependent Personality Disorder " . I cried from sheer

> relief I think. After all these years, I finally had a diagnosis. I finally

> had a name for the madness. I felt somewhat vindicated. I always knew there

> was something wrong, terribly wrong with my mother, but despite going

> through years of therapy myself, I never knew what it was. Now that I had a

> name for the MONSTER, maybe I could begin to deal with it once and for all.

> >

> > The therapist at the hospital was great. He was very understanding and

> sympathetic. He gave me some resources to help me further understand BPD.

> For the first time in my life, someone understood, and someone actually

> cared about ME, about what it was doing to ME and my family. He asked if I

> would like to see a family therapist and suggested that it may help my

> brother and I to go with her. I agreed, and he set it up for us.

> >

> > Nada went to one session with the family therapist, and that was it. I

> think she thought that it was going to be all about her, and that the

> therapist would agree with her that her children were selfish and

> disrespectful. She really didn't want to hear what my brother and I were

> saying. The family therapist was great. She obviously has had a lot of

> experience dealing with people just like my nada, because she didn't put up

> with any of her crap. She really put nada in her place, and nada was NOT

> happy. Nada canceled out on the next therapy session. She told me that she

> felt like she was " at a disadvantage " and needed more time. We got into it

> again on the phone because I told her that if she wanted to cancel, she

> would have to call the therapist herself. She twisted things all around like

> she always does and made it sound like it was all my idea to go in the first

> place, even though it was HER therapist at the hospital that set up the

> appointment, with her blessing. She was all about going when she thought it

> was going to be all about her, but when the tables turned, all of a sudden,

> it was MY idea.

> >

> > I am continuing to go to the therapist myself. My brother has attended a

> few sessions with me as well. I feel like I am really starting to make some

> progress, but it is a long journey ahead. I have already made some really

> positive changes in my life and have had a couple of breakthroughs. Of

> course things have gotten worse with Nada, but I was anticipating that. I'm

> changing the rules on her. But, that's for another time.

> >

> > Sorry this post was so long. I just needed to vent and share it with

> people who really know where I'm coming from. Thanks so much for indulging

> me!

> >

> >

> >

>

>

>

[Guest guest]

Thank you for the kind words Girlscout! I was just composing a reply, and then

lost it when my netbook froze up on me....Ugh! So, TAKE 2:

I could write volumes about the emotional, as well as physical abuse that my

brother and I suffered at the hands of our " christian " nada. I remember sitting

next to her in church one Sunday watching her sing and praise the Lord with

hands raised and wondering how this could be the same woman who, just the day

before, had beaten the living daylights out of me with a leather belt all

because I had dared to " talk back " to her. She had beaten me so hard that it

caused large, red welts on the backs of my legs. My legs were swollen and

stinging, but I dared not squirm in my seat for fear I would get beaten again

for not being still and quiet in church.

Nada found a justification for everything in the bible, including physical

punishment (i.e., " spare the rod and spoil the child " ). People used to come up

to her and remark about how well behaved her children were and she would beam

from ear to ear. It sickens me to remember it now. We were obedient out of FEAR,

not respect.

We were forced to attend church and prayer meetings. We also had forced family

" devotions " which consisted of nada reading a passage from the bible and then

giving a " lesson " on it, which was really her distorted perception of the

message. If nada felt we had been " disobedient " to her, there was always a

beating followed by a forced bible reading and then we had to pray for God to

forgive us for being " selfish " and " disrespectful " to our mother.

I could go on and on. As you can tell, this is somewhat of a sore subject with

me. After I became an adult, I decided to seek God's truth for myself. I believe

everyone should find their own truth, whether through religion or some other

avenue - The truth will set us free!

> > >

> > > Good Morning! I'm new here and just wanted to take a minute to introduce

> > myself. First of all, let me say that I am so happy to have found this

> > group. I have been reading the posts for a little while now, and it has been

> > such a comfort to me to know there are people out there that really get it.

> > >

> > > Now about me - I am 43, married, and mother to the most beautiful,

> > wonderful, 6 y/o little girl. I also have the most amazing, wonderful,

> > patient husband. I thank God every day for blessing me with such a loving

> > family. It really helps make up for all of the unconditional love and

> > acceptance I missed as a child.

> > >

> > > Now, a little about what brought me to this group - My mother ( " nada " )

> > attempted suicide last November. We had gotten into an argument the day

> > before because she wanted me, as usual, to drop everything I was doing and

> > call the doctor for her to try and get a prescription that needed

> > preauthorization. I knew it would involve me waiting half a day for someone

> > from the doctor's office to call back, and besides, there was no reason

> > other than pure laziness that she could not do that for herself. I politely

> > told her that I was really busy, and that I thought this was something that

> > she should handle herself. Of course, she got angry and hung up on me. But

> > me, always trying to be the " good " daughter, called the doctor for her

> > anyway. The nurse called back and said that the person who did the

> > preauthorizations was not there that day, and she would have her call me

> > back the next day. I called mom back, explained the situation, and told her

> > I was working on it, but she need to be patient and wait until the next day.

> > >

> > > Well, I guess things were not moving fast enough for her, because the

> > next morning she called me all raging and hysterical saying things like,

> > " I'm tired of everything and everybody and I'm just going to end it! " Then

> > she hung up on me. My first thought was to just ignore her (we've been down

> > that road so many times). But, the little voice inside me said that I'd

> > better take this one seriously. I called my husband at work, and he agreed

> > with me that it was probably just another idle threat, but I should take it

> > seriously.

> > >

> > > When I got to her house, I didn't get an answer at the door, so I used me

> > key and went inside. I found her on the floor next to her bed, and rushed

> > over to check her. She was still alive, but really out of it and mumbling

> > incoherently. She finally managed a very angry slur - " leave me alone, go

> > away, and let me die! " I asked her what she had taken, and she pointed to an

> > empty bottle of hydrocodone on her bedside table. I frantically dialed 911

> > and an ambulance was dispatched. Then, I called my brother.

> > >

> > > My brother showed up right before the ambulance got there. The paramedics

> > were able to revive her enough to find out that she had only taken 4 of them

> > - an overdose, but not lethal. At the hospital, they stablized her and made

> > her drink the charcoal stuff, etc. She was still out of it, so I talked to

> > the doctor and gave him my version of what happened. After a while, when she

> > had come around a little, she told the nurse that she wanted to see her

> > children. The nurse came out to the waiting room and told us. My brother

> > refused to go back and see her, so I went alone.

> > >

> > > The nurse warned me on the way back, that my mother was very angry and

> > beligerent. As soon as I got in the room, she unloaded on me with a torrent

> > of angry insults. She was mad at me because I didn't let her die. She said

> > that my brother and I didn't really love her and just wanted to put her away

> > in a home somewhere. I told her that it wasn't true, that if I didn't love

> > her, I wouldn't have come to her house to check on her. She snapped back at

> > me, " well, you came, but you didn't really want to! " I didn't say anything,

> > but I was thinking to myself, " Hell no, I didn't want to! Who wants to find

> > their mother on the floor, od'd on pain killers? " Anyway, it went on and on

> > like that, for what seemed an eternity, until I just couldn't take the

> > barrage of painful insults anymore. I said, " I don't have to listen to

> > this " , and walked out of the room.

> > >

> > > She was admitted to the Psych hospital the next day. I went to her house,

> > packed her a bag with things I thought she might need, and took it over

> > there during the visiting hour. As I anticipated, Mom was a completely

> > different person when I saw her - all sweet and humble - a helpless little

> > waif. She stopped short of apologizing for her apalling behavior in the E/R

> > the day before, choosing instead to justify it by saying that she was,

> > " really out of her head on drugs " and didn't remember anything. (How

> > convenient). She denied that she tried to kill herself. When I asked her,

> > " Mom, do you remember taking an overdose of pain pills? " , she answered, " I

> > did, but I needed them, I was in so much pain " , then added, " By the way, I

> > didn't try to kill myself. If I wanted to kill myself, I would have taken

> > the whole damn bottle " .

> > >

> > > She was in the Psych hospital for about 5 days. Of course, she HATED the

> > Psychiatrist there, but LOVED all of the attention she got. She talked about

> > how she was helping her roomate, a lady who had not eaten or spoken in 3

> > days. Apparently, after my mom " ministered " to her and prayed for her, she

> > made a miraculous recovery. The roomate even came up to me one day when I

> > was there visiting and told me what a " wonderful person " my mother was.

> > >

> > > The day before her discharge, I requested that her therapist give me a

> > call. I was afraid that he was only getting her version of things, and it

> > was obvious to me she was deeply in denial and I felt that he needed to know

> > the truth. He called me back that evening. I asked him to please be straight

> > with me about her condition. He told me, " Your mother has Borderline

> > Personality Disorder and Dependent Personality Disorder " . I cried from sheer

> > relief I think. After all these years, I finally had a diagnosis. I finally

> > had a name for the madness. I felt somewhat vindicated. I always knew there

> > was something wrong, terribly wrong with my mother, but despite going

> > through years of therapy myself, I never knew what it was. Now that I had a

> > name for the MONSTER, maybe I could begin to deal with it once and for all.

> > >

> > > The therapist at the hospital was great. He was very understanding and

> > sympathetic. He gave me some resources to help me further understand BPD.

> > For the first time in my life, someone understood, and someone actually

> > cared about ME, about what it was doing to ME and my family. He asked if I

> > would like to see a family therapist and suggested that it may help my

> > brother and I to go with her. I agreed, and he set it up for us.

> > >

> > > Nada went to one session with the family therapist, and that was it. I

> > think she thought that it was going to be all about her, and that the

> > therapist would agree with her that her children were selfish and

> > disrespectful. She really didn't want to hear what my brother and I were

> > saying. The family therapist was great. She obviously has had a lot of

> > experience dealing with people just like my nada, because she didn't put up

> > with any of her crap. She really put nada in her place, and nada was NOT

> > happy. Nada canceled out on the next therapy session. She told me that she

> > felt like she was " at a disadvantage " and needed more time. We got into it

> > again on the phone because I told her that if she wanted to cancel, she

> > would have to call the therapist herself. She twisted things all around like

> > she always does and made it sound like it was all my idea to go in the first

> > place, even though it was HER therapist at the hospital that set up the

> > appointment, with her blessing. She was all about going when she thought it

> > was going to be all about her, but when the tables turned, all of a sudden,

> > it was MY idea.

> > >

> > > I am continuing to go to the therapist myself. My brother has attended a

> > few sessions with me as well. I feel like I am really starting to make some

> > progress, but it is a long journey ahead. I have already made some really

> > positive changes in my life and have had a couple of breakthroughs. Of

> > course things have gotten worse with Nada, but I was anticipating that. I'm

> > changing the rules on her. But, that's for another time.

> > >

> > > Sorry this post was so long. I just needed to vent and share it with

> > people who really know where I'm coming from. Thanks so much for indulging

> > me!

> > >

> > >

> > >

> >

> >

> >

>

>

>

[Guest guest]

Hi

Welcome! I am new here too but am amazed at the unconditional and

non-judgemental support of everyone here.

We have all found each other...and can understand and reassure each other that

'it all really did happen to us' and 'no, it wasn't normal' and 'no it wasn't

our faults' and 'we definately didn't deserve it'

and you are right when you say 'the truth will set you free'...

and you shall be free indeed!

We just sometimes don't always find the truth palatable...

Someone else has recommended a website www.luke174ministries.org which has a

christian focus, if that helps.

Go well!

>

> Good Morning! I'm new here and just wanted to take a minute to introduce

myself. First of all, let me say that I am so happy to have found this group. I

have been reading the posts for a little while now, and it has been such a

comfort to me to know there are people out there that really get it.

>

> Now about me - I am 43, married, and mother to the most beautiful, wonderful,

6 y/o little girl. I also have the most amazing, wonderful, patient husband. I

thank God every day for blessing me with such a loving family. It really helps

make up for all of the unconditional love and acceptance I missed as a child.

>

> Now, a little about what brought me to this group - My mother ( " nada " )

attempted suicide last November. We had gotten into an argument the day before

because she wanted me, as usual, to drop everything I was doing and call the

doctor for her to try and get a prescription that needed preauthorization. I

knew it would involve me waiting half a day for someone from the doctor's office

to call back, and besides, there was no reason other than pure laziness that she

could not do that for herself. I politely told her that I was really busy, and

that I thought this was something that she should handle herself. Of course, she

got angry and hung up on me. But me, always trying to be the " good " daughter,

called the doctor for her anyway. The nurse called back and said that the person

who did the preauthorizations was not there that day, and she would have her

call me back the next day. I called mom back, explained the situation, and told

her I was working on it, but she need to be patient and wait until the next day.

>

> Well, I guess things were not moving fast enough for her, because the next

morning she called me all raging and hysterical saying things like, " I'm tired

of everything and everybody and I'm just going to end it! " Then she hung up on

me. My first thought was to just ignore her (we've been down that road so many

times). But, the little voice inside me said that I'd better take this one

seriously. I called my husband at work, and he agreed with me that it was

probably just another idle threat, but I should take it seriously.

>

> When I got to her house, I didn't get an answer at the door, so I used me key

and went inside. I found her on the floor next to her bed, and rushed over to

check her. She was still alive, but really out of it and mumbling incoherently.

She finally managed a very angry slur - " leave me alone, go away, and let me

die! " I asked her what she had taken, and she pointed to an empty bottle of

hydrocodone on her bedside table. I frantically dialed 911 and an ambulance was

dispatched. Then, I called my brother.

>

> My brother showed up right before the ambulance got there. The paramedics were

able to revive her enough to find out that she had only taken 4 of them - an

overdose, but not lethal. At the hospital, they stablized her and made her drink

the charcoal stuff, etc. She was still out of it, so I talked to the doctor and

gave him my version of what happened. After a while, when she had come around a

little, she told the nurse that she wanted to see her children. The nurse came

out to the waiting room and told us. My brother refused to go back and see her,

so I went alone.

>

> The nurse warned me on the way back, that my mother was very angry and

beligerent. As soon as I got in the room, she unloaded on me with a torrent of

angry insults. She was mad at me because I didn't let her die. She said that my

brother and I didn't really love her and just wanted to put her away in a home

somewhere. I told her that it wasn't true, that if I didn't love her, I wouldn't

have come to her house to check on her. She snapped back at me, " well, you came,

but you didn't really want to! " I didn't say anything, but I was thinking to

myself, " Hell no, I didn't want to! Who wants to find their mother on the floor,

od'd on pain killers? " Anyway, it went on and on like that, for what seemed an

eternity, until I just couldn't take the barrage of painful insults anymore. I

said, " I don't have to listen to this " , and walked out of the room.

>

> She was admitted to the Psych hospital the next day. I went to her house,

packed her a bag with things I thought she might need, and took it over there

during the visiting hour. As I anticipated, Mom was a completely different

person when I saw her - all sweet and humble - a helpless little waif. She

stopped short of apologizing for her apalling behavior in the E/R the day

before, choosing instead to justify it by saying that she was, " really out of

her head on drugs " and didn't remember anything. (How convenient). She denied

that she tried to kill herself. When I asked her, " Mom, do you remember taking

an overdose of pain pills? " , she answered, " I did, but I needed them, I was in

so much pain " , then added, " By the way, I didn't try to kill myself. If I wanted

to kill myself, I would have taken the whole damn bottle " .

>

> She was in the Psych hospital for about 5 days. Of course, she HATED the

Psychiatrist there, but LOVED all of the attention she got. She talked about how

she was helping her roomate, a lady who had not eaten or spoken in 3 days.

Apparently, after my mom " ministered " to her and prayed for her, she made a

miraculous recovery. The roomate even came up to me one day when I was there

visiting and told me what a " wonderful person " my mother was.

>

> The day before her discharge, I requested that her therapist give me a call. I

was afraid that he was only getting her version of things, and it was obvious to

me she was deeply in denial and I felt that he needed to know the truth. He

called me back that evening. I asked him to please be straight with me about her

condition. He told me, " Your mother has Borderline Personality Disorder and

Dependent Personality Disorder " . I cried from sheer relief I think. After all

these years, I finally had a diagnosis. I finally had a name for the madness. I

felt somewhat vindicated. I always knew there was something wrong, terribly

wrong with my mother, but despite going through years of therapy myself, I never

knew what it was. Now that I had a name for the MONSTER, maybe I could begin to

deal with it once and for all.

>

> The therapist at the hospital was great. He was very understanding and

sympathetic. He gave me some resources to help me further understand BPD. For

the first time in my life, someone understood, and someone actually cared about

ME, about what it was doing to ME and my family. He asked if I would like to see

a family therapist and suggested that it may help my brother and I to go with

her. I agreed, and he set it up for us.

>

> Nada went to one session with the family therapist, and that was it. I think

she thought that it was going to be all about her, and that the therapist would

agree with her that her children were selfish and disrespectful. She really

didn't want to hear what my brother and I were saying. The family therapist was

great. She obviously has had a lot of experience dealing with people just like

my nada, because she didn't put up with any of her crap. She really put nada in

her place, and nada was NOT happy. Nada canceled out on the next therapy

session. She told me that she felt like she was " at a disadvantage " and needed

more time. We got into it again on the phone because I told her that if she

wanted to cancel, she would have to call the therapist herself. She twisted

things all around like she always does and made it sound like it was all my idea

to go in the first place, even though it was HER therapist at the hospital that

set up the appointment, with her blessing. She was all about going when she

thought it was going to be all about her, but when the tables turned, all of a

sudden, it was MY idea.

>

> I am continuing to go to the therapist myself. My brother has attended a few

sessions with me as well. I feel like I am really starting to make some

progress, but it is a long journey ahead. I have already made some really

positive changes in my life and have had a couple of breakthroughs. Of course

things have gotten worse with Nada, but I was anticipating that. I'm changing

the rules on her. But, that's for another time.

>

> Sorry this post was so long. I just needed to vent and share it with people

who really know where I'm coming from. Thanks so much for indulging me!

>

>

>

[Guest guest]

Thank you so much for the support, ! You are so right. The truth may set

you free, but it's not always easy to face the truth. I think deep down I knew

the truth for years, but I wasn't ready to admit it to myself. We all want to

hang on to that fantasy that somehow, someday our nada/fada will come around and

be the supportive, loving, healthy parent(s) that we want and need them to be.

To me, that has been the hardest thing to let go. But, with the help of my T and

my healthy, loving husband I am learning to let it go. It's going slowly, but I

feel like each day, I'm letting it go just a little bit more. Even an inch is an

inch more in the right direction.

BTW, I checked out the website link last night for Luke 1:74 Ministries, and it

is awesome! Thanks to everyone who suggested it, as well as to everyone who

suggested other great resources such as books, etc. Ya'll are GREAT!

> >

> > Good Morning! I'm new here and just wanted to take a minute to introduce

myself. First of all, let me say that I am so happy to have found this group. I

have been reading the posts for a little while now, and it has been such a

comfort to me to know there are people out there that really get it.

> >

> > Now about me - I am 43, married, and mother to the most beautiful,

wonderful, 6 y/o little girl. I also have the most amazing, wonderful, patient

husband. I thank God every day for blessing me with such a loving family. It

really helps make up for all of the unconditional love and acceptance I missed

as a child.

> >

> > Now, a little about what brought me to this group - My mother ( " nada " )

attempted suicide last November. We had gotten into an argument the day before

because she wanted me, as usual, to drop everything I was doing and call the

doctor for her to try and get a prescription that needed preauthorization. I

knew it would involve me waiting half a day for someone from the doctor's office

to call back, and besides, there was no reason other than pure laziness that she

could not do that for herself. I politely told her that I was really busy, and

that I thought this was something that she should handle herself. Of course, she

got angry and hung up on me. But me, always trying to be the " good " daughter,

called the doctor for her anyway. The nurse called back and said that the person

who did the preauthorizations was not there that day, and she would have her

call me back the next day. I called mom back, explained the situation, and told

her I was working on it, but she need to be patient and wait until the next day.

> >

> > Well, I guess things were not moving fast enough for her, because the next

morning she called me all raging and hysterical saying things like, " I'm tired

of everything and everybody and I'm just going to end it! " Then she hung up on

me. My first thought was to just ignore her (we've been down that road so many

times). But, the little voice inside me said that I'd better take this one

seriously. I called my husband at work, and he agreed with me that it was

probably just another idle threat, but I should take it seriously.

> >

> > When I got to her house, I didn't get an answer at the door, so I used me

key and went inside. I found her on the floor next to her bed, and rushed over

to check her. She was still alive, but really out of it and mumbling

incoherently. She finally managed a very angry slur - " leave me alone, go away,

and let me die! " I asked her what she had taken, and she pointed to an empty

bottle of hydrocodone on her bedside table. I frantically dialed 911 and an

ambulance was dispatched. Then, I called my brother.

> >

> > My brother showed up right before the ambulance got there. The paramedics

were able to revive her enough to find out that she had only taken 4 of them -

an overdose, but not lethal. At the hospital, they stablized her and made her

drink the charcoal stuff, etc. She was still out of it, so I talked to the

doctor and gave him my version of what happened. After a while, when she had

come around a little, she told the nurse that she wanted to see her children.

The nurse came out to the waiting room and told us. My brother refused to go

back and see her, so I went alone.

> >

> > The nurse warned me on the way back, that my mother was very angry and

beligerent. As soon as I got in the room, she unloaded on me with a torrent of

angry insults. She was mad at me because I didn't let her die. She said that my

brother and I didn't really love her and just wanted to put her away in a home

somewhere. I told her that it wasn't true, that if I didn't love her, I wouldn't

have come to her house to check on her. She snapped back at me, " well, you came,

but you didn't really want to! " I didn't say anything, but I was thinking to

myself, " Hell no, I didn't want to! Who wants to find their mother on the floor,

od'd on pain killers? " Anyway, it went on and on like that, for what seemed an

eternity, until I just couldn't take the barrage of painful insults anymore. I

said, " I don't have to listen to this " , and walked out of the room.

> >

> > She was admitted to the Psych hospital the next day. I went to her house,

packed her a bag with things I thought she might need, and took it over there

during the visiting hour. As I anticipated, Mom was a completely different

person when I saw her - all sweet and humble - a helpless little waif. She

stopped short of apologizing for her apalling behavior in the E/R the day

before, choosing instead to justify it by saying that she was, " really out of

her head on drugs " and didn't remember anything. (How convenient). She denied

that she tried to kill herself. When I asked her, " Mom, do you remember taking

an overdose of pain pills? " , she answered, " I did, but I needed them, I was in

so much pain " , then added, " By the way, I didn't try to kill myself. If I wanted

to kill myself, I would have taken the whole damn bottle " .

> >

> > She was in the Psych hospital for about 5 days. Of course, she HATED the

Psychiatrist there, but LOVED all of the attention she got. She talked about how

she was helping her roomate, a lady who had not eaten or spoken in 3 days.

Apparently, after my mom " ministered " to her and prayed for her, she made a

miraculous recovery. The roomate even came up to me one day when I was there

visiting and told me what a " wonderful person " my mother was.

> >

> > The day before her discharge, I requested that her therapist give me a call.

I was afraid that he was only getting her version of things, and it was obvious

to me she was deeply in denial and I felt that he needed to know the truth. He

called me back that evening. I asked him to please be straight with me about her

condition. He told me, " Your mother has Borderline Personality Disorder and

Dependent Personality Disorder " . I cried from sheer relief I think. After all

these years, I finally had a diagnosis. I finally had a name for the madness. I

felt somewhat vindicated. I always knew there was something wrong, terribly

wrong with my mother, but despite going through years of therapy myself, I never

knew what it was. Now that I had a name for the MONSTER, maybe I could begin to

deal with it once and for all.

> >

> > The therapist at the hospital was great. He was very understanding and

sympathetic. He gave me some resources to help me further understand BPD. For

the first time in my life, someone understood, and someone actually cared about

ME, about what it was doing to ME and my family. He asked if I would like to see

a family therapist and suggested that it may help my brother and I to go with

her. I agreed, and he set it up for us.

> >

> > Nada went to one session with the family therapist, and that was it. I think

she thought that it was going to be all about her, and that the therapist would

agree with her that her children were selfish and disrespectful. She really

didn't want to hear what my brother and I were saying. The family therapist was

great. She obviously has had a lot of experience dealing with people just like

my nada, because she didn't put up with any of her crap. She really put nada in

her place, and nada was NOT happy. Nada canceled out on the next therapy

session. She told me that she felt like she was " at a disadvantage " and needed

more time. We got into it again on the phone because I told her that if she

wanted to cancel, she would have to call the therapist herself. She twisted

things all around like she always does and made it sound like it was all my idea

to go in the first place, even though it was HER therapist at the hospital that

set up the appointment, with her blessing. She was all about going when she

thought it was going to be all about her, but when the tables turned, all of a

sudden, it was MY idea.

> >

> > I am continuing to go to the therapist myself. My brother has attended a few

sessions with me as well. I feel like I am really starting to make some

progress, but it is a long journey ahead. I have already made some really

positive changes in my life and have had a couple of breakthroughs. Of course

things have gotten worse with Nada, but I was anticipating that. I'm changing

the rules on her. But, that's for another time.

> >

> > Sorry this post was so long. I just needed to vent and share it with people

who really know where I'm coming from. Thanks so much for indulging me!

> >

> >

> >

>