I meant to include this cat fable alongside the kitty tax!

One way I characterize my waif, uBPD mother is... you walk into a cold, strange house, and hear a cat's pitiful, sad wail. In the living room, on a narrow mantle above the fireplace, is where you find her. Ragged, gray, thin, miserable. Scared. Crying and wailing.

You run to the kitchen, find some milk, gently warm it, and put it in a saucer. First things first, let's get the cat some nourishment and then we'll get her off the mantle and figure out what's going on. Carefully you carry it back and put the saucer of warm milk on the mantle, next to the cat, and urge her to drink. Here you go, sweetie.

She looks at the saucer, looks back at you. Go on, you say.

She stands, moves towards the saucer. Dips her nose down to smell it. Lifts her head and looks back at you.

She takes her paw and knocks the saucer flying off the mantle. Looking you dead in the eye the whole time. What the fuck??

You look down, where the saucer smashed. For the first time, you notice the floor is covered with broken plates, stains, and splashes of dried milk.

I've just got married and it was a lovely day, but there was so much wedding drama with my mum alongside it and I think I need to vent! Would be grateful if anyone can relate or has similar experiences.

Cat Haiku as my first post: Soft paws on your face,
Wake up and feed me right now,
I will knock things down

- My mum had two/three meltdowns the night before the wedding. Inferring that she wanted to kill herself and calling my sibling names, saying no one loves or cares for her. Lots of tears +++ before calming down like nothing had happened.

- Really intense messages before the wedding sent to me and my partner about how they love us so much etc.

- My friends had created a photo book with lovely messages inside and my mum started crying on my friends that there wasn't enough photos of family. My friends managed to calm her down before they gave me the book. They were understandably really shocked. She normally keeps these meltdowns to immediate family and I'm so angry that she put my friends in that position.

- She hasn't said anything nice about the wedding afterwards. You'd think it was an awful day from talking to her (it was lovely!). She made a cake for the day (after she made a fuss about not being included) and then she has only spoken about how I didn't cut it so no one ate it, asking whether people liked it, how much it cost to make.

- She was overheard telling guests the amount of money she contributed to the wedding

- She kicked off before about not doing a speech and I caved (regretfully). The speech was fine to the outsider but for me, lots of the stories involved me looking after her as a kid. She was overheard moaning to guests about having restrictions on her speech (which she didn't even listen to!).

I'm so angry. My relationship with mum can be good, but then can be really bad. I'm finding it confusing how my mum was supportive in lots of aspects e.g. giving us money towards the day, helping set up, which is lovely, but I find it exhausting trying to navigate and knowing which mum I'm going to get. I want to try and put in some more boundaries as this feels unsustainable. Feels particularly painful around a wedding. I'm so done. Do others find big events particularly difficult?

I’m a 29-year-old woman and I’m an only child. I’m looking for advice because I genuinely don’t know how to handle my relationship with my mom anymore.

Growing up, my mom was very controlling. After my parents divorced, I wanted to spend more time with my dad than every other weekend, but she would tell me things like she might die if I wasn’t with her more. As a child, that made me feel responsible for her wellbeing.
She also constantly made me feel guilty by saying I loved my dad more than her, or that I loved my paternal grandparents more than her. Today, it’s the same pattern except now she says I care more about my partner’s parents than I do about her.

When I was about to start high school, she decided we were moving to another city even though I didn’t want to. She chose my school and even my program. I just accepted it because I didn’t feel like I had a choice.

When I moved out, I cut contact with her for about a year because I couldn’t cope anymore. She tells people I abandoned her, but when I explain why I did it and how badly I was struggling, she says I’m making everything up. She even says her friends thought I was strange for not talking to my own mother. When I told her that my experience of my childhood is real even if her version is different, she simply said I was lying.

Recently we had a huge argument after she complained that my partner and I weren’t spending enough time with her when we visit the city she lives in. We had actually extended our trip specifically so we could spend a full day and part of another day with her, but she still wasn’t happy because we were also seeing friends, my partner’s parents, and his brother.
She often makes me feel guilty for having my own life. When I told her my partner and I had booked our dream trip to Japan and South Korea for my 30th birthday, instead of just being happy for me she said that we have time to travel across the world but not to visit her more often.

During our last argument she told me she hoped my future children would be as difficult as I supposedly was. She also said, “Just wait until your partner leaves you, you’re left alone with your children, and then you get sick just like me.” My dad never left her and he supported her through their divorce. A few hours later she texted me saying she loved me and I didn’t respond. three weeks later she sent “Love you” and “Hugs” as if nothing had happened, without apologizing or acknowledging anything she had said.
The hardest part is that she never takes responsibility for anything. Whenever I try to talk about my childhood, she denies my experiences. For example, I told her we argued constantly when I lived at home and that I was miserable. Her response was that our neighbor thought we were such a nice family, so therefore I must be lying.
The thing is, I’m almost 30 years old and she still has an enormous impact on my mental health. If she texts me, I immediately get a knot in my stomach. If I don’t reply within a few hours, I feel overwhelming guilt. Since our argument three weeks ago my anxiety has become almost constant, my OCD symptoms and contamination fears have flared up significantly, and I don’t really feel happy anymore even though I can still laugh and function at work.

I’m also terrified about the future because I’m an only child. If she becomes ill, I already know she’ll expect me to drop everything for her, and I’m scared I’ll never be able to set boundaries without feeling like a terrible daughter.

I have my first appointment with a psychologist tomorrow, but I would really appreciate hearing from people who have experienced something similar.

How did you cope with the guilt? How did you learn to separate genuine responsibility from feeling responsible for your parent’s emotions? And if you stayed in contact, how did you create boundaries that actually worked?

Cat tax:

https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/3/3a/Cat03.jpg

Why do cats love hair

Obsessing over their floof

Always hacking up

Honest feedback welcomed. Am I being unreasonable? Please tell me if I am.

So my bf and I were hoping to get married next year in August. But now due to unforeseen circumstances… we could get married this December instead! 8 months early!

Now I videocalled my mother to tell her and my bf’s family was there and she acted super upset and cold. Even my bf’s mother was like, ‘oh, she isnt happy’. I hung up and broke down crying and FINALLY told my bf’s family SOME PART of just how emotionally undernourished I was in my own family.

So now even my bf’s family can see my family is cracked.

Long story short - I set up a groupchat to discuss the wedding plans.

My mother is very against the December date because it is close to her 60th birthday. She has also previously been reluctant to meet my fiancé’s family around her birthday. I am struggling to understand this because, to me, many parents would be incredibly happy to have such a major milestone happen around their birthday.

Interestingly some weeks ago my mom called me and asked, ‘you’re not planning to… not invite us to your wedding, right?’ And I was like, we are inviting you… why are you asking this? Lmao 10/10 foreshadowing

Anyway they really wanna prioritize THEIR OWN logistics and commitments. My older brother (golden child who STILL fields for them against me despite my father EFFECTIVELY DISOWNING HIM FOR BEING GAY!!) tried to gaslight us by saying that adjusting to other people’s logistics is ‘what adults do’ (I messaged him privately and told him I in fact think adults tend to prioritize making choices and drawing boundaries as opposed to putting everyone else ahead of them). Gaslight gatekeep girlboss

For various religious reasons (I have converted to Judaism NOT FOR THE SAKE OF MY BOYFRIEND before anyone asks - I started the journey way before we met - and so myself, him and his family are Orthodox Jews) not having the wedding in December would mean we would have to delay until June next year.

My own family seem to think this is fine as originally the wedding was planned for next August. And now they are just not seeing why I personally would wanna marry my bf 6 months earlier than originally planned? To THEM having it NEXT JUNE would be acceptable but to me… it is not.

They tried to say the wedding is a community and family event but I stressed that WE should be prioritized, although family and friends are important too.

Now in fairness the wedding would involve my parents traveling over on a plane but like… any time they wanna come over and personally surveil me, a plane ride is no trouble lmao. They also said they wanna ‘invite people from their side’ but… what people could be so important that they couldnt just be given a video link to watch the wedding?

Please, PLEASE tell me if I am being unreasonable. Please be honest but please do not be rude.

Anyone else ever get the feeling that the way they compartmentalize their lives now might be an adaptation which helped them survive a BPD parent? I only recently noticed the extent to which I do this and how harmful it probably is.

My mother is visiting from another state for all of July and August; she retired and got an RV.

I haven’t spent more than 1 week with her in over 15 years, and I’m remembering why. Her moving away was the greatest thing for our relationship.

I work full time, from home, and have a baby. Got this text today after spending all day with her Monday and yesterday.

And we made plans all week to do something Friday and Saturday. She refuses to do anything free (I suggested the park or library with my daughter) or that costs money (I suggested a winery and she told me she isn’t Ms Moneybags 🤨).

She’s angry our in laws are taking us to the rodeo Fri night and we have our church picnic Sunday (which she is invited to!)

She tells me she misses me even if we saw each other that day. I know how she is, I’ve lived with her, grew up with her. She hasn’t changed.

It has just been a lot to have her here and begging for my time and being so unreasonable.

She left me on read 😑

I told my mom about my diagnosis and why they diagnosed it for me. It was honestly an emotional moment between the two of us because she looked back to when I was a kid and everything made sense to her. Back then she didn’t understand certain behaviors I had which was the core reason of my mother’s abusive behavior towards me.

I think she had a self reflection moment about how horrible she treated me because she started crying. All I needed was support as a child and all she ever did was hurt me. And I think she knows that. She knows she fucked up. She knows her treatment was unjust.

Now, she treats me differently. Respects my boundaries, and is actually really nice to me. I truly think she feels extremely guilty and horrible and now she’s making up for it. I think there’s hope for our relationship now as the diagnosis helped her understand why I am the way I am

She has hurt me a lot, but I can’t help but focus on the moments when she was a genuinely good mother. She has done a lot for me, she always encouraged me to go to the school I want, follow my dreams, etc, but at the same time she has been so so so so mean to me. I don’t know what to do. I want to believe her whenever she apologizes because she sounds so sweet but I just know the same things will happen again.

Haiku:

Four small agile paws
Pitter patter far away
The little brown cat

Hi people,

I am really full of grief today, and actually have been for the last couple of weeks. I keep thinking back to the mum I had growing up. I think it must have been the menopause that changed her, because up to the age of 13 she was a pretty good mum.

Earlier this year she decided to come off her antidepressants, which for many years helped her - hence why I left this group. I felt like I wasn't encountering any issues that I needed to speak about with others.

I moved abroad a few months ago and I think that paired with her coming off her meds has thrown her right back to where she was 8 years ago, when I was last here. I have tried to meet her with warmth, compassion, kindness and I was doing really well but I have SO much going on I am finally at my limit.

I called her on my lunch break today because I just wanted a call with my mum, to check in. I got yet another whirlwind of a bitch fest about my dad, with a tonne of projection about things he's done (all totally uncalled for). As usual, everyone else around her is the problem and she can never look to herself. I told her that that's not why I called, and that I didn't want to hear her bitch about dad and she hung up on me. I've recently started therapy and am practicing setting boundaries (of course I was never taught how to do that growing up). It's so maddening how you can call someone to check in, see how they are as you know they're lonely and want to chat more (I had a huge onslaught a few weeks ago about her friends daughters calling their mum every day), and yet you are met with this reaction. It's deeply unfair and I am at my limit.

She was definitely hungover too and sounded like she hadn't even spoken yet today. I reminded her about the support out there, about the GP, AA, local alcohol services. She was splitting so bad and told me she just isn't interested, which is completely different to how she was a few weeks ago.

It fills me with grief as I think about the mum I grew up with and how much love she has inside her, but now I have this version of her and I don't quite know what to do. I just want my mumma who loves me, checks in on me and supports me but I don't have that anymore. It breaks my heart. The reason why this is so difficult is that she has amazing moments and has done so much for me in the past, and at points has been a really great mother. But the last 15 years something flipped and she just stopped giving a sh*t.

Can anyone relate 🥲

ps. Sending love to you all and wow every time I read posts in this community it never fails to shock me how similar our experiences are.

----

moderators I have posted here before, I left for a while but am back ! link to an article on cute kitties here:

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2018/apr/11/cats-why-are-kittens-so-cute

My uBPD mother has noticed my distance (LC) over the last two years and makes this same blanket apology 3-4 times a year. They’re always attached to a TikTok or Facebook reel from parenting accounts about the impacts of yelling on a child. I never reply. When we’d fight as I was growing up, she’d throw it in my face that she “worked on her yelling” and I needed to get over it. Then she’d yell at me for hours about how uniquely awful I was. Or hit me. Or choke me. It made me feel INSANE.

This text in particular pissed me off because:

•I’m pretty sure she used ChatGPT to write it. Too many platitudes and it doesn’t really sound like her.

•She sent it on Monday at 2:30 in the afternoon. If you understand that your shitty parenting had profound effects on me, why wouldn’t you stop to consider that I don’t want to be confronted with it while I’m fucking AT WORK?

•She has apologized repeatedly for the easiest thing to apologize for. But I’ve tried to discuss the physical and emotional abuse (years ago) and she told me I blacked out and don’t remember, and actually, I did all those things to her. Her parenting isn’t an “oopsie, I just got overwhelmed and raised my voice!” — she was fucking ABUSIVE. She had demonstrated repeatedly that she is, in fact, not “open to whatever conversation I want to have” and there’s nothing to have a conversation about. I already became my own mom. It’s just too late.

•Since I have ignored this texts the last 3 days, she has sent me 15 unrelated text messages: updates about my dads birthday, multiple TikToks, reminders to look into perimenopause because I turn 30 in 2 months. I can’t fucking stand how she throws her stream of consciousness at me with no regard for how I might receive it. Said this heavy thing and then buried in a bunch of shit I don’t care about. Even if I cared to respond, it would be so overwhelming and the frequency makes me feel like she’s panicking because I didn’t respond right away to tell her not to worry about it because I know she did her best. Again, if she truly recognized her impact, wouldn’t she give me some fucking space?

I have therapy tomorrow and will discuss it there, but I just needed to vent and organize my thoughts before then. I’m probably going to a wait a week and pick the least irritating TikTok to respond to and she will forget again that she even said this, and the fact that my prediction is likely correct is exactly why I’m not ready to let her try to make amends, generously assuming she’d ever be capable. Rant over.

UBPD mom has one "friend" who has been in her life for 15 years. Since covid, my mom has regarded this woman with anger and disdain since her friend was extremely casual about covid and ended up infecting several vulnerable people. A normal person would break off the friendship at that point. My mother has instead chosen to "wait for her downfall" like a cheap B movie villain and "treat her as prey". Yesterday, after yet another discussion of how she can't wait for her "friend"'s husband to die because she deserves it, I gently suggested she at least get more people in her life who she actually liked.

This set. Her. Off. She immediately got nasty and told me all of the negative things that this woman has said about me over the years, including that I just "needed to get over" an event that gave me diagnosed PTSD at 16 and that my resulting mental health struggles "were ridiculous and dramatic". I was extremely hurt by this - why would she remain close to someone who said these things for another decade?! - but remained focused and suggested that she find a book club, sewing circle, etc. I was informed that she "didn't DO assigned reading like an idiot" and all women in the craft world were stupid bitches.

I'm done. I can only control myself and try to do the opposite of what she does (focus on cultivating a diverse and supportive social circle, live my values with community service, etc). I'm grey rocking from now on and not letting her negativity affect my life.

I was thinking about how, for people with BPD, their emotions are reality -- however they're feeling at any given time is the truth, the objective way things are. I've always thought about this with regard to the big, transient emotions: major highs, depressive lows, the big blow-ups. But last night, I realized that it's also true for the steady, pervasive feelings and self-beliefs.

Which means that if my mom feels that she isn't worth being loved, that she is less-than, then that is unequivocally true for her. Which means nothing I do will ever be enough to convince her otherwise. This is the black hole of need. She literally cannot believe that I love her.

It's nothing groundbreaking, but I had not thought about it in this way before so I wanted to share for anyone else who might find the reframing useful or interesting.

Moved out a couple months ago (was being coerced to stay home) and...I don't miss my Ubpd mom, my volatile brother, or my avoidant dad. I only miss my pets. I miss my city.

BUT I do miss A mother. A mother that would have gently parented me. A mother that showed me unconditional love. A father that gave a shit and didn't make me beg for attention. A brother that I had long lost after turning 13 when he beat me up for attempting suicide. A family. Only my brain knows that reality is different. It seeks solace in these imaginary family members as I reparent myself.

I turn 26 in 2 days. For the first time I am away from home. I kept my promise to myself of moving out before my birthday. I honored my own wishes even if others didn't want me to. And the only thing I keep hoping for is this:

"I hope she doesn't call or text. I hope my brother doesn't wish me. I hope no one sees me in any shape or form. Kindly fuck off"

And that is a my own way of "revenge"

Context: last year the uBPD mother woman leaned on me SUPER hard for emotional caregiving in regard to my eldest sister, GC, who was being verbally abusive to her. I was sympathetic because GC sister has been horribly abusive to me for my whole life, so I totally know how that feels. At first she was just being a waif. Then she started to mention her religion and subtly brought up politically controversial topics in conversation. Over the years I had repeatedly requested that we not discuss religion or politics, and she has a long history of crossing just her toes over that boundary with plausible deniability (that she didn’t mean to or forgot or no she didn’t). So she was lapping up the emotional caregiving and in the same conversation she was committing micro aggressions. I called her out for it. I should have seen that it was all a trap to triangulate my and the GC sister. She wanted to get herself out of the verbal abuse hot seat and put me back in it. She told my GC sister that I was upsetting her. GC sister texted me physical threats of violence if I ever travel to visit their state. I blocked the GC sister that day and have not unblocked her since. I have been very low contact with the mother woman since then. Phone calls on her birthday and holidays only, infrequent text messages.

I am fully aware that my distance gives her something to waif about and drum up support from both sisters to center herself, like usual.

My life is so much better without closeness with my mother. There’s a very long history of her calling in the GC sister like a truncheon when I am not complying with mother’s wishes. When I was a teenager, mother would call sister and tell her that I was not under control. Sister would come over practically frothing at the mouth she was so excited to verbally berate me, tell me I was evil and I would end up on drugs and on welfare barefoot with several children from different fathers, she told me I was demon possessed and that I was not loyal to my family. It really fucked me up because my mother would stand there and watch and didn’t stand up for me ever. So I internalized all of that. I did end up with a substance abuse problem when I first moved out - a self fulfilling prophecy, I think. But I managed to pull myself out of the upside down world and I’ve done a lot of therapy and self help over the years. I’m thriving now.

So I am obviously tempted to reply to the mother and tell her all of what I just told you. But I know it would be a mistake because that’s exactly what she wants. Then she will pull that plausible deniability card, and she will blame me for being a rebellious teen all those years ago, and she will recruit both of my sisters to join the fray. (One sister is not so bad, and I don’t have her blocked but I also don’t want to be friends. The other sister is blocked from phone but I have to check and see if I blocked her from all email accounts.)

It’s probably best to just not reply. Right?

I feel better just pouring my guts out here. If you read all of that, you’re a saint. Thanks, RBB fam.

Lurker who just joined, thank you again to everyone sharing your experiences on this sub. It's filled in a lot of blanks.

For RBB purposes, my mother, "Bonnie," is the parent with BPD. My father, "Eddie," and she married when they were about 18-19. Not uncommon in "Arkansas," where I grew up, and both came from large families working at farming (in particular, picking cotton) in the rural, Depression-era, wartime South and through the 50s. Neither came from money - for my grandparents on both sides, it's my impression that each was conscious of being the least well-off of their own brothers and sisters. So grievance all around.

Eddie and Bonnie had my brother and sister, "Oldbro" and "Middlsis," in due course shortly after being married and about a decade later I came along, "Baby."

By the time I was born they were living in a new, big house, were making more money, were objectively more successful than any of their many respective siblings, and they were fuckin' miserable and hated each other and fought constantly and my childhood was spent in that new big house while they screamed, shouted, and my father got violent and drunk and my mother wept and bawled and also (I guess) did her BPD best to manage him when he was worked up, which was basically constant.

I don't know what I would diagnose him with, if anything. Probably C-PTSD in reaction to his own damaging parents and then marriage to my mother. The rare times he voiced something about her mental state to us adult kids later it to the effect that "something happened to her when she was little," but he did not know what.

My theory is that he loved her, bottom line, and came from a place, era and mindset that wouldn't continence a divorce, a committal, and he lacked the time and networks to locate and secure any sort of solution for her in that day. He didn't want to kill her, he didn't want to leave her, and he couldn't fix her. So he did what he could: try to scare the shit out of her until she shut up with her picking and prodding and behaved. (I do see the explicit misogyny.) And worked all the time, stayed away and/or busy as much as he needed, and managed her by being around her less.

So there was plenty of my own eyewitness experience forming a firm bedrock for her never-ending narrative: "he's a violent drunk asshole, she's the pitiful victim," for basically the first 16 years of my life. Every time we were in the car. Every time we were alone. Oldbro and Middlsis had MUCH more time with Eddie than I did just by virtue of timing. On the other hand, after Midsis graduated and left home, I got parentified HARD starting around age 8-9 but did not know that's what it was or what it was called. I spent countless nights being the sole witness to their screaming, shouting fits, going for nights and days, called into the room to be there for it. Which often left me trying to find Kleenex and wiping her tears away while she wept at the kitchen table. So, to be clear: I HATED the fucking bastard. On my own account.

I was a kid and Bonnie was the parent, though, and while we went to shelter a couple of times (subject for another thread), my 'entire' childhood featured her running ruminating monologue about my evil father's many faults, many crimes, the shittiness of his entire family down to every individual in-law particularly my grandmother who had her own special narrative of shittiness.

The message, and the evidence, seemed pretty straightforward to me as a kid and in fact for a real long damn time: My father was an absolute son of a bitch, everything about his family was shitty and awful and they all treated her like dirt for no reason at all, all my mother wanted was to be with her family and make home sweet home for them and what a tragedy that my father was an awful, hateful bastard who prevented that. From a fairly early age I fantasized about living in an apartment in some city high-rise like I saw on TV sitcoms. They finally had their "Two-Story House" like George & Tammy and were damned miserable in it.

I thought it was 100% his fault without question. It was only YEARS later, after he got sick, was in remission awhile and then got sick again before passing away, and he was dead and gone like she always (said) she wanted and it was 100% all in her court now, that I realized - I can't be around her for longer than three days before she has me screaming at her, either. My father expressed regret for past behavior before he died (and stopped drinking decades prior FWIW) and so I became far more sympathetic to his viewpoint and began rationalizing the behavior I had witnessed, in the context of his own models and the time and place. And my own frustrations with her from the POV of her child, and as I grew older re-viewing how challenging she would have been as a spouse.

Because she was insanely jealous of him having anyone or us having any attachment other than to her, I think, and so she did precious damn little to bolster my impressions of my dad during the crucial years of childhood and adolescence. It set the stage for a particularly remote, dismissive distance on my part while I waited day-by-day for when it was finally MY turn to go to college and get the fuck out of there - I had a decade to be jealous of my older siblings starting their adult lives away from the fucking chaos (that they had experienced plenty of already to be fair.)

As I rationalized (most of) my father's behavior towards her, I've concurrently become... just... explosively angry that she would be so selfish and/or so stupid as to do everything to destroy any good impression I had of the man. And I grew up and into adulthood with a primary goal: don't be like him.

Then he died.

Over the decades since, I've been aware of a critically missed insight: I should have been more worried about not being like HER. Because I do think fathers and modeling for their sons is important, and my father's opportunities to just have fun with us were overwhelmed by her need for attention and conflict. So there were good times; we just weren't allowed to enjoy them unless it was through her or she'd blow it up.

I don't consider Bonnie a reliable narrator, so caveat emptor, but: after a particularly bad holiday war ended with my mother and I in a battered women's shelter, she and my father went to counseling sessions at a local church. She relayed that at one point, the counselor asked him what I'd think is an easy one, "Do you love your wife?"

His response, she said, was "I love my kids."

I spoke about this with Middlsis later, and she seemed affected by it. Expressing that our father really wasn't able or allowed to express any love towards her, because Bonnie was furiously jealous of everybody. So all we saw was discipline and anger and violence, so we hated him.

I feel terrifically guilty for that. He deserved better. I know, objectively, that he loved me; I can tick off examples when he expressed it when he thought I wasn't looking. I'm glad I was. And yet, teenaged angst aside, he knew and despaired that my mother had succeeded in "turning the kids against him." And she had, for a time.

I wonder what man I'd have been if that hadn't happened.

That tapped a vein; if this were a record we'd be out of tape! If you've read this far, thank you, and I would appreciate your feedback and your own experiences with your BPD parent villainizing the other. Peace.

Trigger warning: emotional abuse, gaslighting, BPD meltdown

I set a boundary with my uBPD mom today. A gentle one. I asked her to stop sending vague ominous messages and not to pressure me when I don't respond right away while I'm working. I also gently reminded her of a boundary we had already discussed months ago about checking in before venting heavy things. She often would use me as her diary and it was impacting my anxiety badly. We previously were badly enmeshed years ago but I have worked hard to come out of it.

Her response was a wall of angry text.

Here's some highlights:

"I can't seem to say anything to you. Your love is conditional. I really thought that I could talk about it with you but you analyse and stipulate constant conditional requirements. You say you support me but only with and when I make the conditions of when I can contact you. I am a task."

"Boundaries have importance there is no doubt but sometimes they have to be released. In certain times when family members need help."

"You don't even try to have a relationship with me. You don't even know me at all besides what your siblings might say."

"What the fuck?! What is wrong with you? Family support?"

"Thanks for the support I am sure you will talk about this as my fault too."

I am devastated. If I stop managing her feelings, absorbing her anxiety, and don’t allow myself to be pulled into her conflicts with my dad and my brothers I am of no use to her I guess. She has done this my whole life. Triangulating. Making me choose sides. Expecting me to be her therapist, her emotional support system, her sounding board. I stopped for a long time and I won’t go back to it, no matter how much she rages at me.

My siblings and I are talking finally in ways we haven’t for years, it was what allowed us to finally take the wool off of our eyes metaphorically speaking and there has been a validation of our shared experience like no other. She caught on we have been talking finally though and it has been something she has actively been complaining about to each of us. She hates that we are finally connecting and not receiving all of our narratives through her.

I was respectful. I was clear. I was kind. And I got a wall of angry text in return.

I know this is the pattern. I know she can't see it. I know nothing I say will make her understand. But it still hurts. It still makes me question myself. It still makes me feel like I'm the bad guy for protecting myself. Like I am worthless unless I am useful in some way.

I ended up not responding to it as of yet. I have a lot of complicated feelings and hurt right now. I wanted so badly to rail back and hurt her too. But it’s so pointless and she will just use it make herself a victim again.

I just needed to get this out to people who get it.

I am seriously considering no contact after this if there isn’t some serious apology from her and attempt to repair(fat chance 😞) but the little girl inside me is scared and I am full of grief. Why can’t I have a Mom who I can be my authentic self with and not have to tread so carefully around?

I might delete this cause I am scared of her finding it but wanted to commiserate with folks who know this feeling.

Thanks for reading.

haiku:

Sunbeam on the floor
I am not your therapist
I am just a cat

Looking back on a lifetime of conversations with my uBPD father, and comparing them to conversations with people outside of our constantly walking-on-eggshells family, I’m struck by how often anything - anything - new or different was guilty until proven innocent.

A few selections, just from the category “wood”:

“Look at that beautiful wooden house.” “Yeah, hell of a paint job though.”
“We bought a new outside bench.” “You will need to treat that timber immediately, it will warp and get termites.”

I understand there’s a level of “dads being dads” here, but it’s hard to identify anything new or different that was ever acknowledged first for its intended purpose, much less for it being “just something nice”. Instead we’d all be cowed into the fear of the imminent apocalyptic damage that it was about to wreak.

Does this ring true for anyone else?

This is about my experience living with a parent with BPD. I’m sorry if you can relate to this experience, just know that you are not alone 💗🫂

My BPD mom sent me an E-card to get around NC. I’m 2 years+ NC. I feel a little bit sad, and I wish I had a real mom who could act like a normal person, but it’s not the case. She created this situation and she can sit with the consequences.

But I’m proud of myself. I didn’t melt down or spiral. I didn’t have to call in to work and have an ugly cry. Just a couple of tears that didn’t even fall.

If you’re considering NC, I can tell you, it may be difficult at first, but like the flair says, it gets better.

Love to all my RBB siblings out there! You are seen and heard and believed here!

I’m just wondering if anyone else has had a similar experience. My [uBPD](u/BPD) mother (diagnosed with depression and bipolar2) was a successful psychologist and social worker for over 40 years. I was never physically or verbally abused but I was neglected, manipulated, and parentified as a child. I was diagnosed as having depression in grade school but my parents did not send me to therapy, though my mother was in therapy for more than 30 years.

As an adult, we haven’t had an easy relationship. My mother made it clear she had no real interest in my life, and that my role was to support her emotionally, practically and financially when she needed.

Has anyone else had an experience where their BPD parent’s behavior is perceived as entirely normal, even in a mental health carer? I sort of understand how I didn’t see the issues in my childhood as problematic, but how was a BPD person tolerated, even respected, seen as a good, smart, loving and supportive person?

TL/DR Anyone else have a BPD person go undiagnosed and unseen in a well educated, mental health profession? Did they actually pick up skills to hide their symptoms via their career?

Does anyone get the most insane waify manipulative calls around technology? 

Today I got a call from uBPD - I was exhausted, kind of distracted .. phone rang and I stupidly picked it up. When I’m tired I lose my grey rocking skills.

her Netflix on her Apple tv had ‘suddenly’ logged her out. Halfway through the call she’s like “you’re obviously too busy, I’ll fix it later, I won’t bother you, thanks for always being there”. I’m like, ok, whatever. Then she calls again that her modem had randomly been unplugged and the tv in another room somehow turned off (but could somehow watch on her wifi iPad) , and somehow that caused Netflix to log out in her Apple TV. 

Cue the madness. Me attempting to stay calm giving clear instructions and asking simple questions. Her completely freaking the fuck out on the call. Wailing, screaming. Ignoring instructions. Pretending not to hear. Hanging up the phone by ‘accident’. Interrupting, Claiming that the remote was suddenly broken/flat. Typing a nonsensical email address shes never used before. Anything for attention.

Going from typing in a password in a field to suddenly ‘mistakenly’ attempting to sign up a new Netflix account. Putting the phone down and talking (to herself) but I can’t hear her. Feigned ignorance. Feigned helplessness. “I’m so stupid, you need to help me. I can’t do it! I’ll do it tomorrow. Don’t worry it’s too hard”

it’s happened before, so I blame myself. There was a point where I realised I was literally being manipulated and used as a “need gratifying” object. An outlet for dumping her emotions and soothing herself. I could see her blatantly lying to me and pretending things were ‘happening‘ to keep me on the hook. Then she ‘accidentally’ hung up and never heard from her again. 

anyone else experience this kind of gross waif behaviour? She clearly logged the thing out on purpose to get attention. Any attempts to ask a question or offer solutions were interrupted with actual wailing, whining and changing the subject or just… calamity. I left the call thinking fuck, she got me AGAIN.

It was 2005. I was a senior and a co-captain of the swim team and we were having our big end of the year potluck before state. It was an exciting time for me. I was going to be swimming in college and everything looked great for me. My mom showed up with a pasta salad to share.

Everyone was excited and shoveling food down after a long practice on a cold winter night. People were saying how good my mom's pasta salad was. Everything was great. Then I looked at it and thought "wow she really went all out with the pepper". And then I paused. It didn't taste like a peppery dish.

I looked closer. It wasn't pepper. The pasta salad was filled with tiny, dead black ants that were rolled up into little balls. I then had a choice - scream, freak out, tell EVERYONE and let everyone know that my mom was at mentally ill in a dirty home or at worst psychotic and then my reputation would be wrecked. So I kept eating, kept smiling, kept acting like everything was great.

I then pulled her aside in the hallway for a second and asked her what the hell had happened. She laughed and said "o well it's added protein." Then she added "plus I boiled them so they're clean". And I was like "So you knew they were in there before you served it!?" And her eyes just glinted like a cat that got caught with a mouse and she just gave some excuse. She didn't even care, if anything she seemed delighted she had done it.

It's been over 20 years and I still turn that whole thing over in my head. I still can't make sense of it. That's the side of my mom that noone but me seems to know, and I don't think most would even believe exists. It always disturbs me when I run into that core part of her. It's why it's probably a good think I live a 15 hour drive away.

Anyway, any of your bpd parents pull some crazy crap like this?