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Hugs, to you, . Your nada... that's just mind-boggling what she did

and forced you to do. I can't begin to imagine the fear you had when your

nada made you accompany her to the confrontation with the barfly. That

stood out to me as particularly disordered--involving a young child with

adult sexual issues. That seems to be a common theme on here--so many nadas

involving KOs with their sexual information. I am fortunate my fada never

did anything of the sort. (Perhaps there was too little sexual information

from my parents, as I was reading childrens' books about sex even in

college, as I worked at a library. But that could probably be attributed to

the homeschooling, and not related to the BPD/NPD.)

I am glad that you're living far away from your nada. Distance seems to

help a little bit with the FOG. Any chance you could keep your address a

secret if you happen to move again? Just give her a PO box address or

something, if you must.

On Tue, Mar 27, 2012 at 6:36 PM, wrote:

> **

>

>

> OK it’s my turn to vent.

>

> I have given my two cents with my comments on others’ posts here in a

> supportive way and now it’s my turn to express myself. Below I will be

> describing BPD behavior which is diagnostic for the syndrome and which

> another contributor has neatly synthesized for us in a recent post.

>

> I first figured out my nada was BPD years ago. This was when I tripped

> across the BPD diagnosis in a matter I was working on and so I looked up

> BPD in the DSM-IV. My nada had/has more than the 5 out of 9 DSM-IV

> diagnostic criteria. I realize BPD's resist therapy and that they think

> they're sane and we're all crazy, but I cannot fathom why my family did not

> try harder to intervene or get me out of that domestic situation, given

> one or more opportunities to do so. I can only think it was Denial and

> shame at work, given the times and the stigma that goes with mental health

> issues.

>

> It was only recently that I stumbled on SWOE and I read it three times.

> Yikes, it’s as though it were written about her, akin to the way Adult

> Children of alcoholic parents also rings true in my FOO. Phooey! SWOE

> identified additional behaviors that pretty much nail down what was going

> on. Some kind of emotional or mental instability in her own family growing

> up and alienated from her parents and her brother, perhaps compounded by

> her being a first generation born in North America to European immigrant

> parents who clinged to the old ways from Eastern Europe. Estranged, her

> parents did not attend her wedding to my father. I never understood and

> felt it odd even as a little kid that her family was not in the wedding

> photos and that a family friend gave her away. But everything seemed to

> get explained away even if not satisfactorily; somehow I picked up on that

> I mustn’t ask as it’d be impertinent of me to do so, it was just they didn’t

> come to the wedding.

>

> Later, there was something in her history about employment not going well

> for her; she did not seem to work or want to work later other than to do

> the bookkeeping for a time for my father’s business. After that she felt

> entitled to not have to work. One day as a teenager, I brought home with

> me, briefly, a school mate from the boys’ school I attended . I introduced

> him to my mom. By happenstance, he was the son of the man my nada had

> worked for where the job had not gone well for her when I’d been very

> little. She told me never to let on exactly who she was, as she’d worked

> for his father. I took that as intended to protect me too, she was perhaps

> status conscious and all that. But perhaps there was something more

> embarrassing and more ominous about the whole thing. I never got the

> straight story about that or about much of anything else.

>

> She was certainly highly impulsive, not always empathic but sometimes a

> whiff of sympathy (which I inadvertently learned to seek as love and

> approval which was conditional, subject to her black-white impulsive

> thinking). Do we categorize her ordering me as an underage child (about

> age 7-8 onwards) to illegally go buy her cigarettes at the convenience

> stores as abusive, pathological self-absorption, treating me like an

> object/appendage or as a convenient source of exploitation? No matter what

> I was doing or with whom, I’d be ordered to drop whatever I was doing ( out

> playing with playmates, etc.) and march right over to the store, and,

> without fail, buy a package of cigarettes, going through the exercise of

> persuading the storekeeper they really were for my mom, not for me (at

> age 7-8!). If no luck, try again at a different store, don't come back

> empty-handed. Sometimes the same clerk would or wouldn’t make the

> transaction. This was

> repeated hundreds of times when I was a minor child. I felt so preyed

> upon. I don’t smoke, so I have her to thank for that, I suppose.

>

> She had breaks with reality under stress (paranoia and delusional

> thinking), and cognitive distortion (unable to perceive incoming emotional

> information accurately). One time, I was about age 10, she had me accompany

> her to a Notary Public to witness her Will. She was convinced if she made

> up her own Will and sent it to Switzerland it’d be valid and wouldn’t need

> a lawyer. The hapless Notary kept looking at me as though I were

> responsible for her (yet another variation on the theme of KO of BPD mom as

> the child- parent?) and she was trying to tell ME my mom can’t do this

> and needs to get legal advice.

>

> Do we call it exploitive behavior or fear of abandonment when on a school

> night at age 8 or 9 she yanked me out of my bed and ordered me, still in my

> PJ’s, to accompany her in a taxi to an apartment to confront a barfly

> who'd been having some kind of sexual relations with my father?

>

> I had no idea what was happening of course, was terrified, and couldn’t

> understand why my father would be going to sleep in a bed with a strange

> woman. The woman and her own boyfriend and my mom ultimately all agreed it

> was very late and I needed to go home and back to bed after I kept peering

> under the woman’s bed looking for my dad

>

> When I was about 11, nada dressed to the nines and confronted a cocktail

> hostess over my father in an upscale bar located at the arena where the NHL

> hockey teams played, then she came in to the arena to confront my father at

> the arena seats. Suffice it to say this was back when going to the NHL

> hockey game was a classy event and people dressed nicely, so a well-dressed

> woman assaulting her husband at the rink side seats after handing the

> cocktail waitress his undershorts (to clean for him) made the local

> newspapers. The cocktail waitress was fired from her job for consorting

> with a patron. For some reason my paternal grandmother thought the

> newspaper story was a great bit of fun and she didn’t care that I felt

> humiliated and put upon (my over-developed sense of responsibility as a KO

> of an undiagnosed BPD), as though I had anything to do with it.

>

> Oh, those are the highlights.

>

> We have boundary issues as well.

>

> When I was in high school and I finally got to try out for the swim team,

> I made the team. Rather than my dad requiring me to try and then fail at

> school hockey team try-outs each year, I chose to stay warm that winter and

> swim, inside. (I couldn’t skate, but he’d been a hockey star and after all,

> this saga took place in Canada where hockey is the national sport.) So, no

> good deed going unpunished, my nada ruined my swim team uniform in the

> laundry. Shrunk the sweatshirt so I couldn’t use it but she could still

> wear it. Did this to me, twice, and then there were no more " SWIM TEAM "

> sweatshirts to be had. She did look odd wearing a boys’ school athletic

> team sweatshirt in public, and to boot she wore it backwards to draw

> attention. I was so embarrassed by her. When I was about 15, we had a

> repeat of folks evidently thinking I was my mom’s parent and responsible

> for her: friends of my father, formerly friends of both parents, seemed to

> think I needed to take my mom out and get her a job. Again, I’m just a kid

> at the time! Oh, and she gave away my things without asking, sometimes

> in a way that was embarrassing to me, and, she gave away my cat, and she

> gave away my dog (once I left for college). The dog vanished, perhaps as

> her revenge for my abandoning her?

>

> Let’s add that when I got the opportunity to attend professional school

> across the continent here in the USA, and I departed, she made off with my

> accumulated life savings at the time. Gone, absconded with it. I was told

> she felt bad about that but that I could make it all back myself later. Do

> we attribute that to a boundary violation, a complete lack of understanding

> as to what “a trustee” means? Or is making off with your kid’s own

> accumulated savings by age 22 revenge behavior with blaming, projecting,

> a sense of entitlement, pathological lying, pathological self-absorption,

> chronic feelings of emptiness, unstable sense of self, treating other

> people like objects/exploitative behavior, having breaks with reality under

> the stress of not knowing how to cope with money or holding it in a trust?

> SWOE tells us a BPD may try to get rid of money they can’t handle the

> stress of holding onto once they get it.

>

> Finally, at my wedding she thought that the best opportune time to teach

> me valuable verbally and physically abusive lessons in not letting people

> “get your goat” as she put it. Do we see this as feared abandonment by the

> one she cannot exploit or abuse anymore? (I was getting married with a

> family life and career and home of my own 2000 miles away from her.) Or is

> this a highly impulsive lack of empathy, hair-trigger

> temper/violence/chronic irritability, with rapid mood swings? My now

> former wife later confided in me she was terrified of nada and was fearful

> of having a child because nada had said nada’d be out on the first plane

> here once we were having kids. Nada has always had this thing about trying

> to move here and resents that I’m here and she’s there.

>

> No point in the exercise of trying to establish boundaries here, like

> many other BPD’s she just sees limits and boundaries as a challenge “to

> drive a truck through.” Suffice it say I am NC. I spoke to her about 3

> years ago. She cut off e-mail contact. She has a PO Box address for me if

> she wants to use it. There are third-party means to get a hold of me if

> there is a genuine need. I have to live my own life and deal with the old

> KO issues like shame, guilt, the long-term ingrained sense of

> over-responsibility toward the abusive BPD parent, and associated issues

> that crossover with folks who are adult children of alcoholics. Things like

> the aftermath of what we call c-PTSD, fears of success and failure and of

> loss and rejection, all of which in a Law of Attraction nightmare have

> manifested. For now, it has to be self-improvement and self-healing as

> the means for a therapist are just not doable right now. Past efforts with

> therapy got

> close but did not reveal what’s clear to me now about where I fumbled,

> fell, stalled and failed in life before, despite what was going for me.

>

> Thanks for this opportunity here to vent, to share, to cry out; to say

> that the truth can set me free but boy do I hurt with what I do know now. I

> thank you for being supportive.

>

>

>

>

>

>

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That was a powerful vent. I'm so sorry you had to endure those kinds of

bewildering behaviors from your own mother, endure being parentified by her and

by other adults who are supposed to know better, and endure the pain and

humiliation of her acting out in public like that. I'm no psychologist, but it

sure sounds like bpd and perhaps other Cluster B traits thrown in the mix too.

It never ceases to amaze me just how much slack parents in general and mothers

in particular are given when they are acting in clearly unhinged, abusive ways

toward their kids. I wish some researcher would do a paper on this phenomenon;

just how blatantly, strikingly, spectacularly, openly abusive a parent has to

get before anyone will even begin to think that maybe something needs to be

done, that maybe the poor kid needs some help.

-Annie

>

> OK it’s my turn to vent.Â

> Â

> I have given my two cents with my comments on others’ posts here in a

supportive way and now it’s my turn to express myself.  Below I will be

describing BPD behavior which is diagnostic for the syndrome and which

another contributor has neatly synthesized for us in a recent post.

> Â

> Â I first figured out my nada was BPD years ago. This was when I tripped

across the BPD diagnosis in a matter I was working on and so I looked up BPD in

the DSM-IV. My nada had/has more than the 5 out of 9 DSM-IV diagnostic

criteria. I realize BPD's resist therapy and that they think they're sane and

we're all crazy, but I cannot fathom why my family did not try harder to

intervene or  get me out of that domestic situation, given one or more

opportunities to do so. I can only think it was Denial and shame at work, given

the times and the stigma that goes with mental health issues.

> Â

> It was only recently that I stumbled on SWOE and I read it three times. Yikes,

it’s as though it were written about her, akin to the way Adult Children of

alcoholic parents also rings true in my FOO. Phooey! SWOE identified

additional behaviors that pretty much nail down what was going on. Some kind of

emotional or mental instability in her own family growing up and alienated from

her parents and her brother, perhaps compounded by her being a first generation

born in North America to European immigrant parents who clinged to the old

ways from Eastern Europe. Estranged, her parents did not attend her wedding

to my father. I never understood and felt it odd even as a little kid that her

family was not in the wedding photos and that a family friend gave her away.Â

But everything seemed to get explained away even if not satisfactorily; somehow

I picked up on that I mustn’t ask as it’d be impertinent of me to do so, it

was just they didn’t

> come to the wedding.

> Â

> Later, there was something in her history about employment not going well for

her; she did not seem to work or want to work later other than to do the

bookkeeping for a time for my father’s business. After that she felt entitled

to not have to work. One day as a teenager, I brought home with me, briefly, a

school mate from the boys’ school I attended . I introduced him to my mom.

By happenstance, he was the son of the man my nada had worked for where the job

had not gone well for her when I’d been very little. She told me never to let

on exactly who she was, as she’d worked for his father. I took that as

intended to protect me too, she was perhaps status conscious and all that. But

perhaps there was something more embarrassing and more ominous about the whole

thing. I never got the straight story about that or about much of anything

else.Â

> Â

> She was certainly highly impulsive, not always empathic but sometimes a whiff

of sympathy (which I inadvertently learned to seek as love and approval which

was conditional, subject to her black-white impulsive thinking). Do we

categorize her ordering me as an underage child (about age 7-8 onwards) toÂ

illegally go buy her cigarettes at the convenience stores as abusive, Â

pathological self-absorption, treating me like an object/appendage or as a

convenient source of exploitation? No matter what I was doing or with whom,

I’d be ordered to drop whatever I was doing ( out playing with playmates,

etc.) and march right over to the store, and, without fail, buy a package of

cigarettes, going through the exercise of persuading the storekeeper theyÂ

really were for my mom, not for me (at age 7-8!).  If no luck, try again at a

different store, don't come back empty-handed. Sometimes the same clerk would or

wouldn’t make the transaction. This was

> repeated hundreds of times when I was a minor child. I felt so preyed upon.

 I don’t smoke, so I have her to thank for that, I suppose.Â

> Â

> She had breaks with reality under stress (paranoia and delusional thinking),

and cognitive distortion (unable to perceive incoming emotional information

accurately). One time, I was about age 10, she had me accompany her to a Notary

Public to witness her Will. She was convinced if she made up her own Will and

sent it to Switzerland it’d be valid and wouldn’t need a lawyer. The hapless

Notary kept looking at me as though I were responsible for her (yet another

variation on the theme of KO of BPD mom as the child- parent?) and she was

trying to tell ME my mom can’t do this and needs to get legal advice. Â

> Â

> Do we call it exploitive behavior or fear of abandonment when on a school

night at age 8 or 9 she yanked me out of my bed and ordered me, still in my

PJ’s, to accompany her in a taxi to an apartment to confront a  barfly who'd

been having some kind of sexual relations with my father?

> Â

> I had no idea what was happening of course, was terrified, and couldn’t

understand why my father would be going to sleep in a bed with a strange woman.Â

The woman and her own boyfriend and my mom ultimately all agreed it was veryÂ

late and I needed to go home and back to bed after I kept peering under the

woman’s bed looking for my dad…    Â

> Â

> When I was about 11, nada dressed to the nines and confronted a cocktail

hostess over my father in an upscale bar located at the arena where the NHL

hockey teams played, then she came in to the arena to confront my father at the

arena seats. Suffice it to say this was back when going to the NHL hockey game

was a classy event and people dressed nicely, so a well-dressed woman assaulting

her husband at the rink side seats after handing the cocktail waitress his

undershorts (to clean for him) made the local newspapers. The cocktail waitress

was fired from her job for consorting with a patron. For some reason my paternal

grandmother thought the newspaper story was a great bit of fun and she

didn’t care that I felt humiliated and put upon (my over-developed sense of

responsibility as a KO of an undiagnosed BPD), as though I had anything to do

with it.

> Â

> Oh, those are the highlights.Â

> Â

> We have boundary issues as well.Â

> Â

> When I was in high school and I finally got to try out for the swim team, I

made the team. Rather than my dad requiring me to try and then fail at school

hockey team try-outs each year, I chose to stay warm that winter and swim,

inside. (I couldn’t skate, but he’d been a hockey star and after all, this

saga took place in Canada where hockey is the national sport.) Â So, no good

deed going unpunished, my nada ruined my swim team uniform in the laundry.

Shrunk the sweatshirt so I couldn’t use it but she could still wear it. Did

this to me, twice, and then there were no more " SWIM TEAM " sweatshirts to be

had. She did look odd wearing a boys’ school athletic team sweatshirt in

public, and to boot she wore it backwards to draw attention. I was so

embarrassed by her.  When I was about 15, we had a repeat of folks evidently

thinking I was my mom’s parent and responsible for her: friends of my father,

formerly friends of both parents, seemed to

> think I needed to take my mom out and get her a job. Again, I’m just a kid

at the time!   Oh, and she gave away my things without asking, sometimes in

a way that was embarrassing to me, and, she gave away my cat, and she gave away

my dog (once I left for college). Â The dog vanished, perhaps as her revenge for

my abandoning her? Â

> Â

> Let’s add that when I got the opportunity to attend professional school

across the continent here in the USA, and I departed, she made off with my

accumulated life savings at the time. Gone, absconded with it. I was told she

felt bad about that but that I could make it all back myself later. Do we

attribute that to a boundary violation, a complete lack of understanding as to

what “a trustee†means? Or is making off with your kid’s own accumulated

savings by age 22Â Â revenge behavior with blaming, projecting, a sense of

entitlement, pathological lying, pathological self-absorption, chronic feelings

of emptiness, unstable sense of self, treating other people like

objects/exploitative behavior, having breaks with reality under the stress of

not knowing how to cope with money or holding it in a trust? SWOE tells us a

BPD may try to get rid of money they can’t handle the stress of holding onto

once they get it.

> Â

> Finally, at my wedding she thought that the best opportune time to teach me

valuable verbally and physically abusive lessons in not letting people “get

your goat†as she put it. Do we see this as feared abandonment by the one

she cannot exploit or abuse anymore? (I was getting married with a family life

and career and home of my own 2000 miles away from her.) Or is this a highly

impulsive lack of empathy, hair-trigger temper/violence/chronic irritability,

with rapid mood swings? My now former wife later confided in me she was

terrified of nada and was fearful of having a child because nada had said

nada’d be out on the first plane here once we were having kids. Nada has

always had this thing about trying to move here and resents that I’m here and

she’s there.

> Â

> No point in the exercise of trying to establish boundaries here, like many

other BPD’s she just sees limits and boundaries as a challenge “to drive a

truck through.†Suffice it say I am NC. I spoke to her about 3 years ago.

She cut off e-mail contact. She has a PO Box address for me if she wants to use

it.  There are third-party means to get a hold of me if there is a genuine

need. I have to live my own life and deal with the old KO issues like shame,

guilt, the long-term ingrained sense of over-responsibility toward the abusive

BPD parent, and associated issues that crossover with folks who are adult

children of alcoholics. Things like the aftermath of what we call c-PTSD, fears

of success and failure and of loss and rejection, all of which in a Law of

Attraction nightmare have manifested.  For now, it has to be self-improvement

and self-healing as the means for a therapist are just not doable right now.

Past efforts with therapy got

> close but did not reveal what’s clear to me now about where I fumbled,

fell, stalled and failed in life before, despite what was going for me.Â

> Â

> Thanks for this opportunity here to vent, to share, to cry out; to say that

the truth can set me free but boy do I hurt with what I do know now. I thank you

for being supportive.

> Â

> Â

>

>

>

>

>

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Guest guest

<<hugs>> . Your story is one of those that leave me amazed at the power

of the human spirit to want to do good, to want better than what was done to us.

I am glad you have 2000 miles between you!

>

> OK it’s my turn to vent.Â

> Â

> I have given my two cents with my comments on others’ posts here in a

supportive way and now it’s my turn to express myself.  Below I will be

describing BPD behavior which is diagnostic for the syndrome and which

another contributor has neatly synthesized for us in a recent post.

> Â

> Â I first figured out my nada was BPD years ago. This was when I tripped

across the BPD diagnosis in a matter I was working on and so I looked up BPD in

the DSM-IV. My nada had/has more than the 5 out of 9 DSM-IV diagnostic

criteria. I realize BPD's resist therapy and that they think they're sane and

we're all crazy, but I cannot fathom why my family did not try harder to

intervene or  get me out of that domestic situation, given one or more

opportunities to do so. I can only think it was Denial and shame at work, given

the times and the stigma that goes with mental health issues.

> Â

> It was only recently that I stumbled on SWOE and I read it three times. Yikes,

it’s as though it were written about her, akin to the way Adult Children of

alcoholic parents also rings true in my FOO. Phooey! SWOE identified

additional behaviors that pretty much nail down what was going on. Some kind of

emotional or mental instability in her own family growing up and alienated from

her parents and her brother, perhaps compounded by her being a first generation

born in North America to European immigrant parents who clinged to the old

ways from Eastern Europe. Estranged, her parents did not attend her wedding

to my father. I never understood and felt it odd even as a little kid that her

family was not in the wedding photos and that a family friend gave her away.Â

But everything seemed to get explained away even if not satisfactorily; somehow

I picked up on that I mustn’t ask as it’d be impertinent of me to do so, it

was just they didn’t

> come to the wedding.

> Â

> Later, there was something in her history about employment not going well for

her; she did not seem to work or want to work later other than to do the

bookkeeping for a time for my father’s business. After that she felt entitled

to not have to work. One day as a teenager, I brought home with me, briefly, a

school mate from the boys’ school I attended . I introduced him to my mom.

By happenstance, he was the son of the man my nada had worked for where the job

had not gone well for her when I’d been very little. She told me never to let

on exactly who she was, as she’d worked for his father. I took that as

intended to protect me too, she was perhaps status conscious and all that. But

perhaps there was something more embarrassing and more ominous about the whole

thing. I never got the straight story about that or about much of anything

else.Â

> Â

> She was certainly highly impulsive, not always empathic but sometimes a whiff

of sympathy (which I inadvertently learned to seek as love and approval which

was conditional, subject to her black-white impulsive thinking). Do we

categorize her ordering me as an underage child (about age 7-8 onwards) toÂ

illegally go buy her cigarettes at the convenience stores as abusive, Â

pathological self-absorption, treating me like an object/appendage or as a

convenient source of exploitation? No matter what I was doing or with whom,

I’d be ordered to drop whatever I was doing ( out playing with playmates,

etc.) and march right over to the store, and, without fail, buy a package of

cigarettes, going through the exercise of persuading the storekeeper theyÂ

really were for my mom, not for me (at age 7-8!).  If no luck, try again at a

different store, don't come back empty-handed. Sometimes the same clerk would or

wouldn’t make the transaction. This was

> repeated hundreds of times when I was a minor child. I felt so preyed upon.

 I don’t smoke, so I have her to thank for that, I suppose.Â

> Â

> She had breaks with reality under stress (paranoia and delusional thinking),

and cognitive distortion (unable to perceive incoming emotional information

accurately). One time, I was about age 10, she had me accompany her to a Notary

Public to witness her Will. She was convinced if she made up her own Will and

sent it to Switzerland it’d be valid and wouldn’t need a lawyer. The hapless

Notary kept looking at me as though I were responsible for her (yet another

variation on the theme of KO of BPD mom as the child- parent?) and she was

trying to tell ME my mom can’t do this and needs to get legal advice. Â

> Â

> Do we call it exploitive behavior or fear of abandonment when on a school

night at age 8 or 9 she yanked me out of my bed and ordered me, still in my

PJ’s, to accompany her in a taxi to an apartment to confront a  barfly who'd

been having some kind of sexual relations with my father?

> Â

> I had no idea what was happening of course, was terrified, and couldn’t

understand why my father would be going to sleep in a bed with a strange woman.Â

The woman and her own boyfriend and my mom ultimately all agreed it was veryÂ

late and I needed to go home and back to bed after I kept peering under the

woman’s bed looking for my dad…    Â

> Â

> When I was about 11, nada dressed to the nines and confronted a cocktail

hostess over my father in an upscale bar located at the arena where the NHL

hockey teams played, then she came in to the arena to confront my father at the

arena seats. Suffice it to say this was back when going to the NHL hockey game

was a classy event and people dressed nicely, so a well-dressed woman assaulting

her husband at the rink side seats after handing the cocktail waitress his

undershorts (to clean for him) made the local newspapers. The cocktail waitress

was fired from her job for consorting with a patron. For some reason my paternal

grandmother thought the newspaper story was a great bit of fun and she

didn’t care that I felt humiliated and put upon (my over-developed sense of

responsibility as a KO of an undiagnosed BPD), as though I had anything to do

with it.

> Â

> Oh, those are the highlights.Â

> Â

> We have boundary issues as well.Â

> Â

> When I was in high school and I finally got to try out for the swim team, I

made the team. Rather than my dad requiring me to try and then fail at school

hockey team try-outs each year, I chose to stay warm that winter and swim,

inside. (I couldn’t skate, but he’d been a hockey star and after all, this

saga took place in Canada where hockey is the national sport.) Â So, no good

deed going unpunished, my nada ruined my swim team uniform in the laundry.

Shrunk the sweatshirt so I couldn’t use it but she could still wear it. Did

this to me, twice, and then there were no more " SWIM TEAM " sweatshirts to be

had. She did look odd wearing a boys’ school athletic team sweatshirt in

public, and to boot she wore it backwards to draw attention. I was so

embarrassed by her.  When I was about 15, we had a repeat of folks evidently

thinking I was my mom’s parent and responsible for her: friends of my father,

formerly friends of both parents, seemed to

> think I needed to take my mom out and get her a job. Again, I’m just a kid

at the time!   Oh, and she gave away my things without asking, sometimes in

a way that was embarrassing to me, and, she gave away my cat, and she gave away

my dog (once I left for college). Â The dog vanished, perhaps as her revenge for

my abandoning her? Â

> Â

> Let’s add that when I got the opportunity to attend professional school

across the continent here in the USA, and I departed, she made off with my

accumulated life savings at the time. Gone, absconded with it. I was told she

felt bad about that but that I could make it all back myself later. Do we

attribute that to a boundary violation, a complete lack of understanding as to

what “a trustee†means? Or is making off with your kid’s own accumulated

savings by age 22Â Â revenge behavior with blaming, projecting, a sense of

entitlement, pathological lying, pathological self-absorption, chronic feelings

of emptiness, unstable sense of self, treating other people like

objects/exploitative behavior, having breaks with reality under the stress of

not knowing how to cope with money or holding it in a trust? SWOE tells us a

BPD may try to get rid of money they can’t handle the stress of holding onto

once they get it.

> Â

> Finally, at my wedding she thought that the best opportune time to teach me

valuable verbally and physically abusive lessons in not letting people “get

your goat†as she put it. Do we see this as feared abandonment by the one

she cannot exploit or abuse anymore? (I was getting married with a family life

and career and home of my own 2000 miles away from her.) Or is this a highly

impulsive lack of empathy, hair-trigger temper/violence/chronic irritability,

with rapid mood swings? My now former wife later confided in me she was

terrified of nada and was fearful of having a child because nada had said

nada’d be out on the first plane here once we were having kids. Nada has

always had this thing about trying to move here and resents that I’m here and

she’s there.

> Â

> No point in the exercise of trying to establish boundaries here, like many

other BPD’s she just sees limits and boundaries as a challenge “to drive a

truck through.†Suffice it say I am NC. I spoke to her about 3 years ago.

She cut off e-mail contact. She has a PO Box address for me if she wants to use

it.  There are third-party means to get a hold of me if there is a genuine

need. I have to live my own life and deal with the old KO issues like shame,

guilt, the long-term ingrained sense of over-responsibility toward the abusive

BPD parent, and associated issues that crossover with folks who are adult

children of alcoholics. Things like the aftermath of what we call c-PTSD, fears

of success and failure and of loss and rejection, all of which in a Law of

Attraction nightmare have manifested.  For now, it has to be self-improvement

and self-healing as the means for a therapist are just not doable right now.

Past efforts with therapy got

> close but did not reveal what’s clear to me now about where I fumbled,

fell, stalled and failed in life before, despite what was going for me.Â

> Â

> Thanks for this opportunity here to vent, to share, to cry out; to say that

the truth can set me free but boy do I hurt with what I do know now. I thank you

for being supportive.

> Â

> Â

>

>

>

>

>

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Share on other sites

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,

my heart broke at your account of looking for your father under the woman's bed.

That was so awful that she involved you in that. It was like you were HER

parent.

I'm glad you're NC from her; she was truly toxic to you.

As Doug (another KO here) says, " may we all heal. "

Hugs,

Fiona

>

> OK it’s my turn to vent.Â

> Â

> I have given my two cents with my comments on others’ posts here in a

supportive way and now it’s my turn to express myself.  Below I will be

describing BPD behavior which is diagnostic for the syndrome and which

another contributor has neatly synthesized for us in a recent post.

> Â

> Â I first figured out my nada was BPD years ago. This was when I tripped

across the BPD diagnosis in a matter I was working on and so I looked up BPD in

the DSM-IV. My nada had/has more than the 5 out of 9 DSM-IV diagnostic

criteria. I realize BPD's resist therapy and that they think they're sane and

we're all crazy, but I cannot fathom why my family did not try harder to

intervene or  get me out of that domestic situation, given one or more

opportunities to do so. I can only think it was Denial and shame at work, given

the times and the stigma that goes with mental health issues.

> Â

> It was only recently that I stumbled on SWOE and I read it three times. Yikes,

it’s as though it were written about her, akin to the way Adult Children of

alcoholic parents also rings true in my FOO. Phooey! SWOE identified

additional behaviors that pretty much nail down what was going on. Some kind of

emotional or mental instability in her own family growing up and alienated from

her parents and her brother, perhaps compounded by her being a first generation

born in North America to European immigrant parents who clinged to the old

ways from Eastern Europe. Estranged, her parents did not attend her wedding

to my father. I never understood and felt it odd even as a little kid that her

family was not in the wedding photos and that a family friend gave her away.Â

But everything seemed to get explained away even if not satisfactorily; somehow

I picked up on that I mustn’t ask as it’d be impertinent of me to do so, it

was just they didn’t

> come to the wedding.

> Â

> Later, there was something in her history about employment not going well for

her; she did not seem to work or want to work later other than to do the

bookkeeping for a time for my father’s business. After that she felt entitled

to not have to work. One day as a teenager, I brought home with me, briefly, a

school mate from the boys’ school I attended . I introduced him to my mom.

By happenstance, he was the son of the man my nada had worked for where the job

had not gone well for her when I’d been very little. She told me never to let

on exactly who she was, as she’d worked for his father. I took that as

intended to protect me too, she was perhaps status conscious and all that. But

perhaps there was something more embarrassing and more ominous about the whole

thing. I never got the straight story about that or about much of anything

else.Â

> Â

> She was certainly highly impulsive, not always empathic but sometimes a whiff

of sympathy (which I inadvertently learned to seek as love and approval which

was conditional, subject to her black-white impulsive thinking). Do we

categorize her ordering me as an underage child (about age 7-8 onwards) toÂ

illegally go buy her cigarettes at the convenience stores as abusive, Â

pathological self-absorption, treating me like an object/appendage or as a

convenient source of exploitation? No matter what I was doing or with whom,

I’d be ordered to drop whatever I was doing ( out playing with playmates,

etc.) and march right over to the store, and, without fail, buy a package of

cigarettes, going through the exercise of persuading the storekeeper theyÂ

really were for my mom, not for me (at age 7-8!).  If no luck, try again at a

different store, don't come back empty-handed. Sometimes the same clerk would or

wouldn’t make the transaction. This was

> repeated hundreds of times when I was a minor child. I felt so preyed upon.

 I don’t smoke, so I have her to thank for that, I suppose.Â

> Â

> She had breaks with reality under stress (paranoia and delusional thinking),

and cognitive distortion (unable to perceive incoming emotional information

accurately). One time, I was about age 10, she had me accompany her to a Notary

Public to witness her Will. She was convinced if she made up her own Will and

sent it to Switzerland it’d be valid and wouldn’t need a lawyer. The hapless

Notary kept looking at me as though I were responsible for her (yet another

variation on the theme of KO of BPD mom as the child- parent?) and she was

trying to tell ME my mom can’t do this and needs to get legal advice. Â

> Â

> Do we call it exploitive behavior or fear of abandonment when on a school

night at age 8 or 9 she yanked me out of my bed and ordered me, still in my

PJ’s, to accompany her in a taxi to an apartment to confront a  barfly who'd

been having some kind of sexual relations with my father?

> Â

> I had no idea what was happening of course, was terrified, and couldn’t

understand why my father would be going to sleep in a bed with a strange woman.Â

The woman and her own boyfriend and my mom ultimately all agreed it was veryÂ

late and I needed to go home and back to bed after I kept peering under the

woman’s bed looking for my dad…    Â

> Â

> When I was about 11, nada dressed to the nines and confronted a cocktail

hostess over my father in an upscale bar located at the arena where the NHL

hockey teams played, then she came in to the arena to confront my father at the

arena seats. Suffice it to say this was back when going to the NHL hockey game

was a classy event and people dressed nicely, so a well-dressed woman assaulting

her husband at the rink side seats after handing the cocktail waitress his

undershorts (to clean for him) made the local newspapers. The cocktail waitress

was fired from her job for consorting with a patron. For some reason my paternal

grandmother thought the newspaper story was a great bit of fun and she

didn’t care that I felt humiliated and put upon (my over-developed sense of

responsibility as a KO of an undiagnosed BPD), as though I had anything to do

with it.

> Â

> Oh, those are the highlights.Â

> Â

> We have boundary issues as well.Â

> Â

> When I was in high school and I finally got to try out for the swim team, I

made the team. Rather than my dad requiring me to try and then fail at school

hockey team try-outs each year, I chose to stay warm that winter and swim,

inside. (I couldn’t skate, but he’d been a hockey star and after all, this

saga took place in Canada where hockey is the national sport.) Â So, no good

deed going unpunished, my nada ruined my swim team uniform in the laundry.

Shrunk the sweatshirt so I couldn’t use it but she could still wear it. Did

this to me, twice, and then there were no more " SWIM TEAM " sweatshirts to be

had. She did look odd wearing a boys’ school athletic team sweatshirt in

public, and to boot she wore it backwards to draw attention. I was so

embarrassed by her.  When I was about 15, we had a repeat of folks evidently

thinking I was my mom’s parent and responsible for her: friends of my father,

formerly friends of both parents, seemed to

> think I needed to take my mom out and get her a job. Again, I’m just a kid

at the time!   Oh, and she gave away my things without asking, sometimes in

a way that was embarrassing to me, and, she gave away my cat, and she gave away

my dog (once I left for college). Â The dog vanished, perhaps as her revenge for

my abandoning her? Â

> Â

> Let’s add that when I got the opportunity to attend professional school

across the continent here in the USA, and I departed, she made off with my

accumulated life savings at the time. Gone, absconded with it. I was told she

felt bad about that but that I could make it all back myself later. Do we

attribute that to a boundary violation, a complete lack of understanding as to

what “a trustee†means? Or is making off with your kid’s own accumulated

savings by age 22Â Â revenge behavior with blaming, projecting, a sense of

entitlement, pathological lying, pathological self-absorption, chronic feelings

of emptiness, unstable sense of self, treating other people like

objects/exploitative behavior, having breaks with reality under the stress of

not knowing how to cope with money or holding it in a trust? SWOE tells us a

BPD may try to get rid of money they can’t handle the stress of holding onto

once they get it.

> Â

> Finally, at my wedding she thought that the best opportune time to teach me

valuable verbally and physically abusive lessons in not letting people “get

your goat†as she put it. Do we see this as feared abandonment by the one

she cannot exploit or abuse anymore? (I was getting married with a family life

and career and home of my own 2000 miles away from her.) Or is this a highly

impulsive lack of empathy, hair-trigger temper/violence/chronic irritability,

with rapid mood swings? My now former wife later confided in me she was

terrified of nada and was fearful of having a child because nada had said

nada’d be out on the first plane here once we were having kids. Nada has

always had this thing about trying to move here and resents that I’m here and

she’s there.

> Â

> No point in the exercise of trying to establish boundaries here, like many

other BPD’s she just sees limits and boundaries as a challenge “to drive a

truck through.†Suffice it say I am NC. I spoke to her about 3 years ago.

She cut off e-mail contact. She has a PO Box address for me if she wants to use

it.  There are third-party means to get a hold of me if there is a genuine

need. I have to live my own life and deal with the old KO issues like shame,

guilt, the long-term ingrained sense of over-responsibility toward the abusive

BPD parent, and associated issues that crossover with folks who are adult

children of alcoholics. Things like the aftermath of what we call c-PTSD, fears

of success and failure and of loss and rejection, all of which in a Law of

Attraction nightmare have manifested.  For now, it has to be self-improvement

and self-healing as the means for a therapist are just not doable right now.

Past efforts with therapy got

> close but did not reveal what’s clear to me now about where I fumbled,

fell, stalled and failed in life before, despite what was going for me.Â

> Â

> Thanks for this opportunity here to vent, to share, to cry out; to say that

the truth can set me free but boy do I hurt with what I do know now. I thank you

for being supportive.

> Â

> Â

>

>

>

>

>

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Guest guest

Thank You kindly.

At that age, I was terrified, confused and I just couldn't understand why dad

would want " to go sleep in a bed "  at a strange woman's apartment.  It was

such a significant emotional event that I began to have trouble focusing andÂ

with other issues which then began to emerge in my life, and I still remember

the person's name.   As for my address, in a fit of pique nada " lost " my

address and so she could not show up on my doorstep, which is fortunate asÂ

upon reflection I suspect she also felt entitled to the title deed to my house

at one time. So, she just has a PO Box address for me. There are other nada

crazy-making issues I have addressed in recent  posts.

To: WTOAdultChildren1

Sent: Tuesday, March 27, 2012 4:49 PM

Subject: Re: My Turn to Vent

Hugs, to you, . Your nada... that's just mind-boggling what she did

and forced you to do. I can't begin to imagine the fear you had when your

nada made you accompany her to the confrontation with the barfly. That

stood out to me as particularly disordered--involving a young child with

adult sexual issues. That seems to be a common theme on here--so many nadas

involving KOs with their sexual information. I am fortunate my fada never

did anything of the sort. (Perhaps there was too little sexual information

from my parents, as I was reading childrens' books about sex even in

college, as I worked at a library. But that could probably be attributed to

the homeschooling, and not related to the BPD/NPD.)

I am glad that you're living far away from your nada. Distance seems to

help a little bit with the FOG. Any chance you could keep your address a

secret if you happen to move again? Just give her a PO box address or

something, if you must.

On Tue, Mar 27, 2012 at 6:36 PM, wrote:

> **

>

>

> OK it’s my turn to vent.

>

> I have given my two cents with my comments on others’ posts here in a

> supportive way and now it’s my turn to express myself. Below I will be

> describing BPD behavior which is diagnostic for the syndrome and which

> another contributor has neatly synthesized for us in a recent post.

>

>Â I first figured out my nada was BPD years ago. This was when I tripped

> across the BPD diagnosis in a matter I was working on and so I looked up

> BPD in the DSM-IV. My nada had/has more than the 5 out of 9 DSM-IV

> diagnostic criteria. I realize BPD's resist therapy and that they think

> they're sane and we're all crazy, but I cannot fathom why my family did not

> try harder to intervene or get me out of that domestic situation, given

> one or more opportunities to do so. I can only think it was Denial and

> shame at work, given the times and the stigma that goes with mental health

> issues.

>

> It was only recently that I stumbled on SWOE and I read it three times.

> Yikes, it’s as though it were written about her, akin to the way Adult

> Children of alcoholic parents also rings true in my FOO. Phooey! SWOE

> identified additional behaviors that pretty much nail down what was going

> on. Some kind of emotional or mental instability in her own family growing

> up and alienated from her parents and her brother, perhaps compounded by

> her being a first generation born in North America to European immigrant

> parents who clinged to the old ways from Eastern Europe. Estranged, her

> parents did not attend her wedding to my father. I never understood and

> felt it odd even as a little kid that her family was not in the wedding

> photos and that a family friend gave her away. But everything seemed to

> get explained away even if not satisfactorily; somehow I picked up on that

> I mustn’t ask as it’d be impertinent of me to do so, it was just they

didn’t

> come to the wedding.

>

> Later, there was something in her history about employment not going well

> for her; she did not seem to work or want to work later other than to do

> the bookkeeping for a time for my father’s business. After that she felt

> entitled to not have to work. One day as a teenager, I brought home with

> me, briefly, a school mate from the boys’ school I attended . I introduced

> him to my mom. By happenstance, he was the son of the man my nada had

> worked for where the job had not gone well for her when I’d been very

> little. She told me never to let on exactly who she was, as she’d worked

> for his father. I took that as intended to protect me too, she was perhaps

> status conscious and all that. But perhaps there was something more

> embarrassing and more ominous about the whole thing. I never got the

> straight story about that or about much of anything else.

>

> She was certainly highly impulsive, not always empathic but sometimes a

> whiff of sympathy (which I inadvertently learned to seek as love and

> approval which was conditional, subject to her black-white impulsive

> thinking). Do we categorize her ordering me as an underage child (about

> age 7-8 onwards) to illegally go buy her cigarettes at the convenience

> stores as abusive, pathological self-absorption, treating me like an

> object/appendage or as a convenient source of exploitation? No matter what

> I was doing or with whom, I’d be ordered to drop whatever I was doing ( out

> playing with playmates, etc.) and march right over to the store, and,

> without fail, buy a package of cigarettes, going through the exercise of

> persuading the storekeeper they really were for my mom, not for me (at

> age 7-8!). If no luck, try again at a different store, don't come back

> empty-handed. Sometimes the same clerk would or wouldn’t make the

> transaction. This was

> repeated hundreds of times when I was a minor child. I felt so preyed

> upon. I don’t smoke, so I have her to thank for that, I suppose.

>

> She had breaks with reality under stress (paranoia and delusional

> thinking), and cognitive distortion (unable to perceive incoming emotional

> information accurately). One time, I was about age 10, she had me accompany

> her to a Notary Public to witness her Will. She was convinced if she made

> up her own Will and sent it to Switzerland it’d be valid and wouldn’t need

> a lawyer. The hapless Notary kept looking at me as though I were

> responsible for her (yet another variation on the theme of KO of BPD mom as

> the child- parent?) and she was trying to tell ME my mom can’t do this

> and needs to get legal advice.

>

> Do we call it exploitive behavior or fear of abandonment when on a school

> night at age 8 or 9 she yanked me out of my bed and ordered me, still in my

> PJ’s, to accompany her in a taxi to an apartment to confront a barfly

> who'd been having some kind of sexual relations with my father?

>

> I had no idea what was happening of course, was terrified, and couldn’t

> understand why my father would be going to sleep in a bed with a strange

> woman. The woman and her own boyfriend and my mom ultimately all agreed it

> was very late and I needed to go home and back to bed after I kept peering

> under the woman’s bed looking for my dad…

>

> When I was about 11, nada dressed to the nines and confronted a cocktail

> hostess over my father in an upscale bar located at the arena where the NHL

> hockey teams played, then she came in to the arena to confront my father at

> the arena seats. Suffice it to say this was back when going to the NHL

> hockey game was a classy event and people dressed nicely, so a well-dressed

> woman assaulting her husband at the rink side seats after handing the

> cocktail waitress his undershorts (to clean for him) made the local

> newspapers. The cocktail waitress was fired from her job for consorting

> with a patron. For some reason my paternal grandmother thought the

> newspaper story was a great bit of fun and she didn’t care that I felt

> humiliated and put upon (my over-developed sense of responsibility as a KO

> of an undiagnosed BPD), as though I had anything to do with it.

>

> Oh, those are the highlights.

>

> We have boundary issues as well.

>

> When I was in high school and I finally got to try out for the swim team,

> I made the team. Rather than my dad requiring me to try and then fail at

> school hockey team try-outs each year, I chose to stay warm that winter and

> swim, inside. (I couldn’t skate, but he’d been a hockey star and after

all,

> this saga took place in Canada where hockey is the national sport.)Â So, no

> good deed going unpunished, my nada ruined my swim team uniform in the

> laundry. Shrunk the sweatshirt so I couldn’t use it but she could still

> wear it. Did this to me, twice, and then there were no more " SWIM TEAM "

> sweatshirts to be had. She did look odd wearing a boys’ school athletic

> team sweatshirt in public, and to boot she wore it backwards to draw

> attention. I was so embarrassed by her. When I was about 15, we had a

> repeat of folks evidently thinking I was my mom’s parent and responsible

> for her: friends of my father, formerly friends of both parents, seemed to

> think I needed to take my mom out and get her a job. Again, I’m just a kid

> at the time!  Oh, and she gave away my things without asking, sometimes

> in a way that was embarrassing to me, and, she gave away my cat, and she

> gave away my dog (once I left for college). The dog vanished, perhaps as

> her revenge for my abandoning her?

>

> Let’s add that when I got the opportunity to attend professional school

> across the continent here in the USA, and I departed, she made off with my

> accumulated life savings at the time. Gone, absconded with it. I was told

> she felt bad about that but that I could make it all back myself later. Do

> we attribute that to a boundary violation, a complete lack of understanding

> as to what “a trustee†means? Or is making off with your kid’s own

> accumulated savings by age 22Â revenge behavior with blaming, projecting,

> a sense of entitlement, pathological lying, pathological self-absorption,

> chronic feelings of emptiness, unstable sense of self, treating other

> people like objects/exploitative behavior, having breaks with reality under

> the stress of not knowing how to cope with money or holding it in a trust?

> SWOE tells us a BPD may try to get rid of money they can’t handle the

> stress of holding onto once they get it.

>

> Finally, at my wedding she thought that the best opportune time to teach

> me valuable verbally and physically abusive lessons in not letting people

> “get your goat†as she put it. Do we see this as feared abandonment by

the

> one she cannot exploit or abuse anymore? (I was getting married with a

> family life and career and home of my own 2000 miles away from her.) Or is

> this a highly impulsive lack of empathy, hair-trigger

> temper/violence/chronic irritability, with rapid mood swings? My now

> former wife later confided in me she was terrified of nada and was fearful

> of having a child because nada had said nada’d be out on the first plane

> here once we were having kids. Nada has always had this thing about trying

> to move here and resents that I’m here and she’s there.

>

> No point in the exercise of trying to establish boundaries here, like

> many other BPD’s she just sees limits and boundaries as a challenge “to

> drive a truck through.†Suffice it say I am NC. I spoke to her about 3

> years ago. She cut off e-mail contact. She has a PO Box address for me if

> she wants to use it. There are third-party means to get a hold of me if

> there is a genuine need. I have to live my own life and deal with the old

> KO issues like shame, guilt, the long-term ingrained sense of

> over-responsibility toward the abusive BPD parent, and associated issues

> that crossover with folks who are adult children of alcoholics. Things like

> the aftermath of what we call c-PTSD, fears of success and failure and of

> loss and rejection, all of which in a Law of Attraction nightmare have

> manifested. For now, it has to be self-improvement and self-healing as

> the means for a therapist are just not doable right now. Past efforts with

> therapy got

> close but did not reveal what’s clear to me now about where I fumbled,

> fell, stalled and failed in life before, despite what was going for me.

>

> Thanks for this opportunity here to vent, to share, to cry out; to say

> that the truth can set me free but boy do I hurt with what I do know now. I

> thank you for being supportive.

>

>

>

>

>

>

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Guest guest

Thank You, Annie, you are so wise and kind to all in this group, and so

coming from you your comments  are empowering.

Â

I cannot fathom why my family did not try harder to intervene or  get me away

from all this. Dad seemed to think it was better for me to have both parents

around me and he had to have been misinformed and in denial, coupled with the

stigma that goes with mental health issues. He insisted in later years that one

can't get help for someone involuntarily, but he was just being defensive

because he conceded he had the chance to have her admitted one night when she

decompensated in some way in the presence of an MD family friend  who was

sufficiently concerned to wish to sign off on an involuntary hospitalization.

Dad declined.

To: WTOAdultChildren1

Sent: Tuesday, March 27, 2012 8:11 PM

Subject: Re: My Turn to Vent

Â

That was a powerful vent. I'm so sorry you had to endure those kinds of

bewildering behaviors from your own mother, endure being parentified by her and

by other adults who are supposed to know better, and endure the pain and

humiliation of her acting out in public like that. I'm no psychologist, but it

sure sounds like bpd and perhaps other Cluster B traits thrown in the mix too.

It never ceases to amaze me just how much slack parents in general and mothers

in particular are given when they are acting in clearly unhinged, abusive ways

toward their kids. I wish some researcher would do a paper on this phenomenon;

just how blatantly, strikingly, spectacularly, openly abusive a parent has to

get before anyone will even begin to think that maybe something needs to be

done, that maybe the poor kid needs some help.

-Annie

>

> OK it’s my turn to vent.Â

> Â

> I have given my two cents with my comments on others’ posts here in a

supportive way and now it’s my turn to express myself.  Below I will be

describing BPD behavior which is diagnostic for the syndrome and which

another contributor has neatly synthesized for us in a recent post.

> Â

> Â I first figured out my nada was BPD years ago. This was when I tripped

across the BPD diagnosis in a matter I was working on and so I looked up BPD in

the DSM-IV. My nada had/has more than the 5 out of 9 DSM-IV diagnostic

criteria. I realize BPD's resist therapy and that they think they're sane and

we're all crazy, but I cannot fathom why my family did not try harder to

intervene or  get me out of that domestic situation, given one or more

opportunities to do so. I can only think it was Denial and shame at work, given

the times and the stigma that goes with mental health issues.

> Â

> It was only recently that I stumbled on SWOE and I read it three times. Yikes,

it’s as though it were written about her, akin to the way Adult Children of

alcoholic parents also rings true in my FOO. Phooey! SWOE identified

additional behaviors that pretty much nail down what was going on. Some kind of

emotional or mental instability in her own family growing up and alienated from

her parents and her brother, perhaps compounded by her being a first generation

born in North America to European immigrant parents who clinged to the old

ways from Eastern Europe. Estranged, her parents did not attend her wedding

to my father. I never understood and felt it odd even as a little kid that her

family was not in the wedding photos and that a family friend gave her away.Â

But everything seemed to get explained away even if not satisfactorily; somehow

I picked up on that I mustn’t ask as it’d be impertinent of me to do so, it

was just they didn’t

> come to the wedding.

> Â

> Later, there was something in her history about employment not going well for

her; she did not seem to work or want to work later other than to do the

bookkeeping for a time for my father’s business. After that she felt entitled

to not have to work. One day as a teenager, I brought home with me, briefly, a

school mate from the boys’ school I attended . I introduced him to my mom.

By happenstance, he was the son of the man my nada had worked for where the job

had not gone well for her when I’d been very little. She told me never to let

on exactly who she was, as she’d worked for his father. I took that as

intended to protect me too, she was perhaps status conscious and all that. But

perhaps there was something more embarrassing and more ominous about the whole

thing. I never got the straight story about that or about much of anything

else.Â

> Â

> She was certainly highly impulsive, not always empathic but sometimes a whiff

of sympathy (which I inadvertently learned to seek as love and approval which

was conditional, subject to her black-white impulsive thinking). Do we

categorize her ordering me as an underage child (about age 7-8 onwards) toÂ

illegally go buy her cigarettes at the convenience stores as abusive, Â

pathological self-absorption, treating me like an object/appendage or as a

convenient source of exploitation? No matter what I was doing or with whom,

I’d be ordered to drop whatever I was doing ( out playing with playmates,

etc.) and march right over to the store, and, without fail, buy a package of

cigarettes, going through the exercise of persuading the storekeeper theyÂ

really were for my mom, not for me (at age 7-8!).  If no luck, try again at a

different store, don't come back empty-handed. Sometimes the same clerk would or

wouldn’t make the transaction. This was

> repeated hundreds of times when I was a minor child. I felt so preyed upon.

 I don’t smoke, so I have her to thank for that, I suppose.Â

> Â

> She had breaks with reality under stress (paranoia and delusional thinking),

and cognitive distortion (unable to perceive incoming emotional information

accurately). One time, I was about age 10, she had me accompany her to a Notary

Public to witness her Will. She was convinced if she made up her own Will and

sent it to Switzerland it’d be valid and wouldn’t need a lawyer. The hapless

Notary kept looking at me as though I were responsible for her (yet another

variation on the theme of KO of BPD mom as the child- parent?) and she was

trying to tell ME my mom can’t do this and needs to get legal advice. Â

> Â

> Do we call it exploitive behavior or fear of abandonment when on a school

night at age 8 or 9 she yanked me out of my bed and ordered me, still in my

PJ’s, to accompany her in a taxi to an apartment to confront a  barfly who'd

been having some kind of sexual relations with my father?

> Â

> I had no idea what was happening of course, was terrified, and couldn’t

understand why my father would be going to sleep in a bed with a strange woman.Â

The woman and her own boyfriend and my mom ultimately all agreed it was veryÂ

late and I needed to go home and back to bed after I kept peering under the

woman’s bed looking for my dad…    Â

> Â

> When I was about 11, nada dressed to the nines and confronted a cocktail

hostess over my father in an upscale bar located at the arena where the NHL

hockey teams played, then she came in to the arena to confront my father at the

arena seats. Suffice it to say this was back when going to the NHL hockey game

was a classy event and people dressed nicely, so a well-dressed woman assaulting

her husband at the rink side seats after handing the cocktail waitress his

undershorts (to clean for him) made the local newspapers. The cocktail waitress

was fired from her job for consorting with a patron. For some reason my paternal

grandmother thought the newspaper story was a great bit of fun and she

didn’t care that I felt humiliated and put upon (my over-developed sense of

responsibility as a KO of an undiagnosed BPD), as though I had anything to do

with it.

> Â

> Oh, those are the highlights.Â

> Â

> We have boundary issues as well.Â

> Â

> When I was in high school and I finally got to try out for the swim team, I

made the team. Rather than my dad requiring me to try and then fail at school

hockey team try-outs each year, I chose to stay warm that winter and swim,

inside. (I couldn’t skate, but he’d been a hockey star and after all, this

saga took place in Canada where hockey is the national sport.) Â So, no good

deed going unpunished, my nada ruined my swim team uniform in the laundry.

Shrunk the sweatshirt so I couldn’t use it but she could still wear it. Did

this to me, twice, and then there were no more " SWIM TEAM " sweatshirts to be

had. She did look odd wearing a boys’ school athletic team sweatshirt in

public, and to boot she wore it backwards to draw attention. I was so

embarrassed by her.  When I was about 15, we had a repeat of folks evidently

thinking I was my mom’s parent and responsible for her: friends of my father,

formerly friends of both parents, seemed to

> think I needed to take my mom out and get her a job. Again, I’m just a kid

at the time!   Oh, and she gave away my things without asking, sometimes in

a way that was embarrassing to me, and, she gave away my cat, and she gave away

my dog (once I left for college). Â The dog vanished, perhaps as her revenge for

my abandoning her? Â

> Â

> Let’s add that when I got the opportunity to attend professional school

across the continent here in the USA, and I departed, she made off with my

accumulated life savings at the time. Gone, absconded with it. I was told she

felt bad about that but that I could make it all back myself later. Do we

attribute that to a boundary violation, a complete lack of understanding as to

what “a trustee†means? Or is making off with your kid’s own accumulated

savings by age 22Â Â revenge behavior with blaming, projecting, a sense of

entitlement, pathological lying, pathological self-absorption, chronic feelings

of emptiness, unstable sense of self, treating other people like

objects/exploitative behavior, having breaks with reality under the stress of

not knowing how to cope with money or holding it in a trust? SWOE tells us a

BPD may try to get rid of money they can’t handle the stress of holding onto

once they get it.

> Â

> Finally, at my wedding she thought that the best opportune time to teach me

valuable verbally and physically abusive lessons in not letting people “get

your goat†as she put it. Do we see this as feared abandonment by the one

she cannot exploit or abuse anymore? (I was getting married with a family life

and career and home of my own 2000 miles away from her.) Or is this a highly

impulsive lack of empathy, hair-trigger temper/violence/chronic irritability,

with rapid mood swings? My now former wife later confided in me she was

terrified of nada and was fearful of having a child because nada had said

nada’d be out on the first plane here once we were having kids. Nada has

always had this thing about trying to move here and resents that I’m here and

she’s there.

> Â

> No point in the exercise of trying to establish boundaries here, like many

other BPD’s she just sees limits and boundaries as a challenge “to drive a

truck through.†Suffice it say I am NC. I spoke to her about 3 years ago.

She cut off e-mail contact. She has a PO Box address for me if she wants to use

it.  There are third-party means to get a hold of me if there is a genuine

need. I have to live my own life and deal with the old KO issues like shame,

guilt, the long-term ingrained sense of over-responsibility toward the abusive

BPD parent, and associated issues that crossover with folks who are adult

children of alcoholics. Things like the aftermath of what we call c-PTSD, fears

of success and failure and of loss and rejection, all of which in a Law of

Attraction nightmare have manifested.  For now, it has to be self-improvement

and self-healing as the means for a therapist are just not doable right now.

Past efforts with therapy

got

> close but did not reveal what’s clear to me now about where I fumbled, fell,

stalled and failed in life before, despite what was going for me.Â

> Â

> Thanks for this opportunity here to vent, to share, to cry out; to say that

the truth can set me free but boy do I hurt with what I do know now. I thank you

for being supportive.

> Â

> Â

>

>

>

>

>

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Guest guest

Thank You kindly.

To: WTOAdultChildren1

Sent: Tuesday, March 27, 2012 10:01 PM

Subject: Re: My Turn to Vent

Â

<<hugs>> . Your story is one of those that leave me amazed at the power

of the human spirit to want to do good, to want better than what was done to us.

I am glad you have 2000 miles between you!

>

> OK it’s my turn to vent.Â

> Â

> I have given my two cents with my comments on others’ posts here in a

supportive way and now it’s my turn to express myself.  Below I will be

describing BPD behavior which is diagnostic for the syndrome and which

another contributor has neatly synthesized for us in a recent post.

> Â

> Â I first figured out my nada was BPD years ago. This was when I tripped

across the BPD diagnosis in a matter I was working on and so I looked up BPD in

the DSM-IV. My nada had/has more than the 5 out of 9 DSM-IV diagnostic

criteria. I realize BPD's resist therapy and that they think they're sane and

we're all crazy, but I cannot fathom why my family did not try harder to

intervene or  get me out of that domestic situation, given one or more

opportunities to do so. I can only think it was Denial and shame at work, given

the times and the stigma that goes with mental health issues.

> Â

> It was only recently that I stumbled on SWOE and I read it three times. Yikes,

it’s as though it were written about her, akin to the way Adult Children of

alcoholic parents also rings true in my FOO. Phooey! SWOE identified

additional behaviors that pretty much nail down what was going on. Some kind of

emotional or mental instability in her own family growing up and alienated from

her parents and her brother, perhaps compounded by her being a first generation

born in North America to European immigrant parents who clinged to the old

ways from Eastern Europe. Estranged, her parents did not attend her wedding

to my father. I never understood and felt it odd even as a little kid that her

family was not in the wedding photos and that a family friend gave her away.Â

But everything seemed to get explained away even if not satisfactorily; somehow

I picked up on that I mustn’t ask as it’d be impertinent of me to do so, it

was just they didn’t

> come to the wedding.

> Â

> Later, there was something in her history about employment not going well for

her; she did not seem to work or want to work later other than to do the

bookkeeping for a time for my father’s business. After that she felt entitled

to not have to work. One day as a teenager, I brought home with me, briefly, a

school mate from the boys’ school I attended . I introduced him to my mom.

By happenstance, he was the son of the man my nada had worked for where the job

had not gone well for her when I’d been very little. She told me never to let

on exactly who she was, as she’d worked for his father. I took that as

intended to protect me too, she was perhaps status conscious and all that. But

perhaps there was something more embarrassing and more ominous about the whole

thing. I never got the straight story about that or about much of anything

else.Â

> Â

> She was certainly highly impulsive, not always empathic but sometimes a whiff

of sympathy (which I inadvertently learned to seek as love and approval which

was conditional, subject to her black-white impulsive thinking). Do we

categorize her ordering me as an underage child (about age 7-8 onwards) toÂ

illegally go buy her cigarettes at the convenience stores as abusive, Â

pathological self-absorption, treating me like an object/appendage or as a

convenient source of exploitation? No matter what I was doing or with whom,

I’d be ordered to drop whatever I was doing ( out playing with playmates,

etc.) and march right over to the store, and, without fail, buy a package of

cigarettes, going through the exercise of persuading the storekeeper theyÂ

really were for my mom, not for me (at age 7-8!).  If no luck, try again at a

different store, don't come back empty-handed. Sometimes the same clerk would or

wouldn’t make the transaction. This was

> repeated hundreds of times when I was a minor child. I felt so preyed upon.

 I don’t smoke, so I have her to thank for that, I suppose.Â

> Â

> She had breaks with reality under stress (paranoia and delusional thinking),

and cognitive distortion (unable to perceive incoming emotional information

accurately). One time, I was about age 10, she had me accompany her to a Notary

Public to witness her Will. She was convinced if she made up her own Will and

sent it to Switzerland it’d be valid and wouldn’t need a lawyer. The hapless

Notary kept looking at me as though I were responsible for her (yet another

variation on the theme of KO of BPD mom as the child- parent?) and she was

trying to tell ME my mom can’t do this and needs to get legal advice. Â

> Â

> Do we call it exploitive behavior or fear of abandonment when on a school

night at age 8 or 9 she yanked me out of my bed and ordered me, still in my

PJ’s, to accompany her in a taxi to an apartment to confront a  barfly who'd

been having some kind of sexual relations with my father?

> Â

> I had no idea what was happening of course, was terrified, and couldn’t

understand why my father would be going to sleep in a bed with a strange woman.Â

The woman and her own boyfriend and my mom ultimately all agreed it was veryÂ

late and I needed to go home and back to bed after I kept peering under the

woman’s bed looking for my dad…    Â

> Â

> When I was about 11, nada dressed to the nines and confronted a cocktail

hostess over my father in an upscale bar located at the arena where the NHL

hockey teams played, then she came in to the arena to confront my father at the

arena seats. Suffice it to say this was back when going to the NHL hockey game

was a classy event and people dressed nicely, so a well-dressed woman assaulting

her husband at the rink side seats after handing the cocktail waitress his

undershorts (to clean for him) made the local newspapers. The cocktail waitress

was fired from her job for consorting with a patron. For some reason my paternal

grandmother thought the newspaper story was a great bit of fun and she

didn’t care that I felt humiliated and put upon (my over-developed sense of

responsibility as a KO of an undiagnosed BPD), as though I had anything to do

with it.

> Â

> Oh, those are the highlights.Â

> Â

> We have boundary issues as well.Â

> Â

> When I was in high school and I finally got to try out for the swim team, I

made the team. Rather than my dad requiring me to try and then fail at school

hockey team try-outs each year, I chose to stay warm that winter and swim,

inside. (I couldn’t skate, but he’d been a hockey star and after all, this

saga took place in Canada where hockey is the national sport.) Â So, no good

deed going unpunished, my nada ruined my swim team uniform in the laundry.

Shrunk the sweatshirt so I couldn’t use it but she could still wear it. Did

this to me, twice, and then there were no more " SWIM TEAM " sweatshirts to be

had. She did look odd wearing a boys’ school athletic team sweatshirt in

public, and to boot she wore it backwards to draw attention. I was so

embarrassed by her.  When I was about 15, we had a repeat of folks evidently

thinking I was my mom’s parent and responsible for her: friends of my father,

formerly friends of both parents, seemed to

> think I needed to take my mom out and get her a job. Again, I’m just a kid

at the time!   Oh, and she gave away my things without asking, sometimes in

a way that was embarrassing to me, and, she gave away my cat, and she gave away

my dog (once I left for college). Â The dog vanished, perhaps as her revenge for

my abandoning her? Â

> Â

> Let’s add that when I got the opportunity to attend professional school

across the continent here in the USA, and I departed, she made off with my

accumulated life savings at the time. Gone, absconded with it. I was told she

felt bad about that but that I could make it all back myself later. Do we

attribute that to a boundary violation, a complete lack of understanding as to

what “a trustee†means? Or is making off with your kid’s own accumulated

savings by age 22Â Â revenge behavior with blaming, projecting, a sense of

entitlement, pathological lying, pathological self-absorption, chronic feelings

of emptiness, unstable sense of self, treating other people like

objects/exploitative behavior, having breaks with reality under the stress of

not knowing how to cope with money or holding it in a trust? SWOE tells us a

BPD may try to get rid of money they can’t handle the stress of holding onto

once they get it.

> Â

> Finally, at my wedding she thought that the best opportune time to teach me

valuable verbally and physically abusive lessons in not letting people “get

your goat†as she put it. Do we see this as feared abandonment by the one

she cannot exploit or abuse anymore? (I was getting married with a family life

and career and home of my own 2000 miles away from her.) Or is this a highly

impulsive lack of empathy, hair-trigger temper/violence/chronic irritability,

with rapid mood swings? My now former wife later confided in me she was

terrified of nada and was fearful of having a child because nada had said

nada’d be out on the first plane here once we were having kids. Nada has

always had this thing about trying to move here and resents that I’m here and

she’s there.

> Â

> No point in the exercise of trying to establish boundaries here, like many

other BPD’s she just sees limits and boundaries as a challenge “to drive a

truck through.†Suffice it say I am NC. I spoke to her about 3 years ago.

She cut off e-mail contact. She has a PO Box address for me if she wants to use

it.  There are third-party means to get a hold of me if there is a genuine

need. I have to live my own life and deal with the old KO issues like shame,

guilt, the long-term ingrained sense of over-responsibility toward the abusive

BPD parent, and associated issues that crossover with folks who are adult

children of alcoholics. Things like the aftermath of what we call c-PTSD, fears

of success and failure and of loss and rejection, all of which in a Law of

Attraction nightmare have manifested.  For now, it has to be self-improvement

and self-healing as the means for a therapist are just not doable right now.

Past efforts with therapy

got

> close but did not reveal what’s clear to me now about where I fumbled, fell,

stalled and failed in life before, despite what was going for me.Â

> Â

> Thanks for this opportunity here to vent, to share, to cry out; to say that

the truth can set me free but boy do I hurt with what I do know now. I thank you

for being supportive.

> Â

> Â

>

>

>

>

>

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Guest guest

Thank You kindly.

Yes, it was awful, I was terrified with no idea what was happening or why given

my tender age at the time. In retrospect, nada was toxic, based on other

incidents and some of which I have mentioned in recent posts. I remember afterÂ

very my last in-person visit to her, Â IÂ labeled her an " emotional

terrorist " . This was long before 9/11 and our concern with terrorism and

terrorists. Â

To: WTOAdultChildren1

Sent: Wednesday, March 28, 2012 6:20 AM

Subject: Re: My Turn to Vent

Â

,

my heart broke at your account of looking for your father under the woman's bed.

That was so awful that she involved you in that. It was like you were HER

parent.

I'm glad you're NC from her; she was truly toxic to you.

As Doug (another KO here) says, " may we all heal. "

Hugs,

Fiona

>

> OK it’s my turn to vent.Â

> Â

> I have given my two cents with my comments on others’ posts here in a

supportive way and now it’s my turn to express myself.  Below I will be

describing BPD behavior which is diagnostic for the syndrome and which

another contributor has neatly synthesized for us in a recent post.

> Â

> Â I first figured out my nada was BPD years ago. This was when I tripped

across the BPD diagnosis in a matter I was working on and so I looked up BPD in

the DSM-IV. My nada had/has more than the 5 out of 9 DSM-IV diagnostic

criteria. I realize BPD's resist therapy and that they think they're sane and

we're all crazy, but I cannot fathom why my family did not try harder to

intervene or  get me out of that domestic situation, given one or more

opportunities to do so. I can only think it was Denial and shame at work, given

the times and the stigma that goes with mental health issues.

> Â

> It was only recently that I stumbled on SWOE and I read it three times. Yikes,

it’s as though it were written about her, akin to the way Adult Children of

alcoholic parents also rings true in my FOO. Phooey! SWOE identified

additional behaviors that pretty much nail down what was going on. Some kind of

emotional or mental instability in her own family growing up and alienated from

her parents and her brother, perhaps compounded by her being a first generation

born in North America to European immigrant parents who clinged to the old

ways from Eastern Europe. Estranged, her parents did not attend her wedding

to my father. I never understood and felt it odd even as a little kid that her

family was not in the wedding photos and that a family friend gave her away.Â

But everything seemed to get explained away even if not satisfactorily; somehow

I picked up on that I mustn’t ask as it’d be impertinent of me to do so, it

was just they didn’t

> come to the wedding.

> Â

> Later, there was something in her history about employment not going well for

her; she did not seem to work or want to work later other than to do the

bookkeeping for a time for my father’s business. After that she felt entitled

to not have to work. One day as a teenager, I brought home with me, briefly, a

school mate from the boys’ school I attended . I introduced him to my mom.

By happenstance, he was the son of the man my nada had worked for where the job

had not gone well for her when I’d been very little. She told me never to let

on exactly who she was, as she’d worked for his father. I took that as

intended to protect me too, she was perhaps status conscious and all that. But

perhaps there was something more embarrassing and more ominous about the whole

thing. I never got the straight story about that or about much of anything

else.Â

> Â

> She was certainly highly impulsive, not always empathic but sometimes a whiff

of sympathy (which I inadvertently learned to seek as love and approval which

was conditional, subject to her black-white impulsive thinking). Do we

categorize her ordering me as an underage child (about age 7-8 onwards) toÂ

illegally go buy her cigarettes at the convenience stores as abusive, Â

pathological self-absorption, treating me like an object/appendage or as a

convenient source of exploitation? No matter what I was doing or with whom,

I’d be ordered to drop whatever I was doing ( out playing with playmates,

etc.) and march right over to the store, and, without fail, buy a package of

cigarettes, going through the exercise of persuading the storekeeper theyÂ

really were for my mom, not for me (at age 7-8!).  If no luck, try again at a

different store, don't come back empty-handed. Sometimes the same clerk would or

wouldn’t make the transaction. This was

> repeated hundreds of times when I was a minor child. I felt so preyed upon.

 I don’t smoke, so I have her to thank for that, I suppose.Â

> Â

> She had breaks with reality under stress (paranoia and delusional thinking),

and cognitive distortion (unable to perceive incoming emotional information

accurately). One time, I was about age 10, she had me accompany her to a Notary

Public to witness her Will. She was convinced if she made up her own Will and

sent it to Switzerland it’d be valid and wouldn’t need a lawyer. The hapless

Notary kept looking at me as though I were responsible for her (yet another

variation on the theme of KO of BPD mom as the child- parent?) and she was

trying to tell ME my mom can’t do this and needs to get legal advice. Â

> Â

> Do we call it exploitive behavior or fear of abandonment when on a school

night at age 8 or 9 she yanked me out of my bed and ordered me, still in my

PJ’s, to accompany her in a taxi to an apartment to confront a  barfly who'd

been having some kind of sexual relations with my father?

> Â

> I had no idea what was happening of course, was terrified, and couldn’t

understand why my father would be going to sleep in a bed with a strange woman.Â

The woman and her own boyfriend and my mom ultimately all agreed it was veryÂ

late and I needed to go home and back to bed after I kept peering under the

woman’s bed looking for my dad…    Â

> Â

> When I was about 11, nada dressed to the nines and confronted a cocktail

hostess over my father in an upscale bar located at the arena where the NHL

hockey teams played, then she came in to the arena to confront my father at the

arena seats. Suffice it to say this was back when going to the NHL hockey game

was a classy event and people dressed nicely, so a well-dressed woman assaulting

her husband at the rink side seats after handing the cocktail waitress his

undershorts (to clean for him) made the local newspapers. The cocktail waitress

was fired from her job for consorting with a patron. For some reason my paternal

grandmother thought the newspaper story was a great bit of fun and she

didn’t care that I felt humiliated and put upon (my over-developed sense of

responsibility as a KO of an undiagnosed BPD), as though I had anything to do

with it.

> Â

> Oh, those are the highlights.Â

> Â

> We have boundary issues as well.Â

> Â

> When I was in high school and I finally got to try out for the swim team, I

made the team. Rather than my dad requiring me to try and then fail at school

hockey team try-outs each year, I chose to stay warm that winter and swim,

inside. (I couldn’t skate, but he’d been a hockey star and after all, this

saga took place in Canada where hockey is the national sport.) Â So, no good

deed going unpunished, my nada ruined my swim team uniform in the laundry.

Shrunk the sweatshirt so I couldn’t use it but she could still wear it. Did

this to me, twice, and then there were no more " SWIM TEAM " sweatshirts to be

had. She did look odd wearing a boys’ school athletic team sweatshirt in

public, and to boot she wore it backwards to draw attention. I was so

embarrassed by her.  When I was about 15, we had a repeat of folks evidently

thinking I was my mom’s parent and responsible for her: friends of my father,

formerly friends of both parents, seemed to

> think I needed to take my mom out and get her a job. Again, I’m just a kid

at the time!   Oh, and she gave away my things without asking, sometimes in

a way that was embarrassing to me, and, she gave away my cat, and she gave away

my dog (once I left for college). Â The dog vanished, perhaps as her revenge for

my abandoning her? Â

> Â

> Let’s add that when I got the opportunity to attend professional school

across the continent here in the USA, and I departed, she made off with my

accumulated life savings at the time. Gone, absconded with it. I was told she

felt bad about that but that I could make it all back myself later. Do we

attribute that to a boundary violation, a complete lack of understanding as to

what “a trustee†means? Or is making off with your kid’s own accumulated

savings by age 22Â Â revenge behavior with blaming, projecting, a sense of

entitlement, pathological lying, pathological self-absorption, chronic feelings

of emptiness, unstable sense of self, treating other people like

objects/exploitative behavior, having breaks with reality under the stress of

not knowing how to cope with money or holding it in a trust? SWOE tells us a

BPD may try to get rid of money they can’t handle the stress of holding onto

once they get it.

> Â

> Finally, at my wedding she thought that the best opportune time to teach me

valuable verbally and physically abusive lessons in not letting people “get

your goat†as she put it. Do we see this as feared abandonment by the one

she cannot exploit or abuse anymore? (I was getting married with a family life

and career and home of my own 2000 miles away from her.) Or is this a highly

impulsive lack of empathy, hair-trigger temper/violence/chronic irritability,

with rapid mood swings? My now former wife later confided in me she was

terrified of nada and was fearful of having a child because nada had said

nada’d be out on the first plane here once we were having kids. Nada has

always had this thing about trying to move here and resents that I’m here and

she’s there.

> Â

> No point in the exercise of trying to establish boundaries here, like many

other BPD’s she just sees limits and boundaries as a challenge “to drive a

truck through.†Suffice it say I am NC. I spoke to her about 3 years ago.

She cut off e-mail contact. She has a PO Box address for me if she wants to use

it.  There are third-party means to get a hold of me if there is a genuine

need. I have to live my own life and deal with the old KO issues like shame,

guilt, the long-term ingrained sense of over-responsibility toward the abusive

BPD parent, and associated issues that crossover with folks who are adult

children of alcoholics. Things like the aftermath of what we call c-PTSD, fears

of success and failure and of loss and rejection, all of which in a Law of

Attraction nightmare have manifested.  For now, it has to be self-improvement

and self-healing as the means for a therapist are just not doable right now.

Past efforts with therapy

got

> close but did not reveal what’s clear to me now about where I fumbled, fell,

stalled and failed in life before, despite what was going for me.Â

> Â

> Thanks for this opportunity here to vent, to share, to cry out; to say that

the truth can set me free but boy do I hurt with what I do know now. I thank you

for being supportive.

> Â

> Â

>

>

>

>

>

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Dear ,

I can so relate to " Let’s add that when I got the opportunity to attend

professional school across the continent here in the USA, and I departed, she

made off with my accumulated life savings at the time. Gone, absconded with it.

I was told she felt bad about that but that I could make it all back myself

later. " Same story here.

Also completely understand the bit about major failings in life despite what you

have going for you. I expect to end up living in a minivan in the next year or

two, so I totally hear you.

Welcome to the group. Many wise people here.

--

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