Musings from a Borderline's Daughter

For almost 45 years I was the chiefly enmeshed child of a Borderline mother. Then circumstances in my FOO demanded a new scapegoat be chosen--ME! It was this change up in the batting order that started my odyssey in discovering Borderline Personality Disorder, Stockholm Syndrome, Scapegoating, Enmeshment, Toxic Guilt. This is my process as it unfolds. Although I have been in therapy on and off for 20 years, the real 'meat' of my work started in 2010, when my mother's condition became undeniable. In turn, my entire life history could then be scrutinized with wide open eyes, to see how dealing with a BPD mother colored those experiences.  

[musingsfromaborderlinesdaughter]

Recooperating from EBV, Lyme and now Mold (WTF) I started treatment for Lyme (all herbal). Also eating Wahl’s Paleo diet (heavy on vegetables, fruits to curb inflammation and support kidney & liver detoxifying). I've also been getting ultraviolet blood treatments with ozone to try to 'wake up' my immune system--it is finally working after 8 treatments. & this week I found out that I am suffering with mold illness. I am bunking at my dad's.  Luckily, it seems that my husband has no problems in the house (he will be tested). From what I am reading, about 25% of the population cannot easily detox mold and so it can lodge in our bodies. One of the molds I have may even go back to my childhood! So eradicating the mold from my body is going to be another 18 month ordeal. I burned my wedding dress on Thursday, I am ready to leave my house behind. All the 'stuff' will either be cleaned or purged.  Looming in the background is wondering what to do with my cats(4) and dogs(2). We will probably euth our old lady shepherd. The other dog and 2 cats that can't 'play well with others' will most likely go to the humane society. I refuse to give up the last 2 cats! Giving up my little boy kitty with issues is killing me--but I simply cannot continue trying to figuring out his anxiety peeing problem with me fleeing my house (in the back of my mind, I am wondering if he is also suffering with mold illness 😳 ) So all in all, I am feeling grateful to finally know what I am fighting. I am also grateful the chronic fatigue is finally abating. I am both hopeful and fearful of the future. I just have no idea of where I will be living!

[furiousgoldfish]

how to tell if your “friend” is not being a friend:

every time you talk about a problem, you have to spend time convincing them it’s a real problem

you have to convince them that your feelings are real and justified 

you have to explain to them, more than once, to stop saying things that genuinely make you feel awful

you have to be understanding of their point of view entire time, but that doesn’t work both ways, they don’t do it back

you have to be understanding to the point where you accept that they wont ever see your point of view

if your problems make them uncomfortable you have to stop talking

they compete with you and try to prove you that their situation is worse no matter what you struggle with

they try to convince you to get over yourself and to not think of yourself too highly

they make you feel like your opinions, actions or emotions are stupid, and like you should be ashamed for expressing anything to anyone

they pick up on your vulnerabilities then use them against you in critical times

they say things they know will hurt you, to get to you

they hurt you to prove their point and think it’s legit reason to cause you pain

they talk down to you, act as if you’re not capable of making good decisions, scare you into not doing as you wanted, make you feel inadequate and inexperienced in comparison to them

they don’t care if they tire you out with their problems

they don’t care if you’ve already given them more than you comfortably can give

they don’t find you worthy of their compassion and care

they don’t think you’ve deserved their attention or admiration

they neglect you and then come back to you when they need you

they act as if it’s normal for you to spend much more energy and time on them than they do in return

they expect unlimited compassion, kindness, energy, time and care from you, and act as if it’s the least you could do for them

they don’t even consider going that length in return

if they forget, even for a second, that you’re a human being

they’re not to be trusted.

[musingsfromaborderlinesdaughter]

SO MUCH THIS!!! This is what having a relationship with my bio sister was like.

[musingsfromaborderlinesdaughter]

The religion of stupidity

Several social media sites that i am on have been driving me nuts this week. People actually believe some magic sky daddy is patiently waiting for them to screw their eyes closed and ask for special relief for a particular problem. This type of thinking is NUTS! No one is out there, no one gives a good goddamn whatever shit you are plagued with. Solve your own problems, & quit pretending you have a hot phone to almighty god. Quit typing ‘praying’ in little text and big caps--it doesn’t do squat. It is an EMPTY sentiment. The part that galls me is these fools actually think they are ‘doing’ something.

[musingsfromaborderlinesdaughter]

On Going No Contact

I can only share how my choices affected me. I am an easily stressed, emotional woman who feels guilt easily, I beat myself up when I feel like I am failing others. My mother's constant neediness and mercurial personality changes and psychic attacks/manipulations kept me constantly on alert, like I was always on the edge of going into battle or having to defend myself.or my children from her. I initially hoped having a child would bring us closer, and it did. But getting pregnant with my second child threw her into an active Borderline & Bipolar phase of hate filled spews and catatonic depression. I chose to go no contact for the welfare of my children when they were 3 yrs & 1.5 yrs old. The emotional trauma I went through was very tough, and I'm sure it affected my kids. We re-initiated contact 7-8 years later, and that honeymoon phase lasted a few years until mom lost her shit again. It wasn't all smooth sailing during that time, I often had my kids ask 'why doesn't Grandma like me' as she loved to try to drive a wedge in between them. I finally broke off contact for the final time when my health was so far into the toilet from stress related illnesses that I had to break contact--it was going to be her life or mine I saved and I chose 'me' for the first time. I look back now and wonder how my life/health would be different if I had broken off with her before I had children (no doubt better without the yo-yo of guilt and anger from trying to have a relationship with her). On the other hand, my children got to know their grandmother. They learned to handle adversity, I got lots of practice using their interactions with her as teaching moments. She was kind to them sometimes, but for the most part their memories of her are clouded with how nasty she could be. There isn't a lot of 'grandmotherly love' memories for them, especially for my son who is the younger. So you see, going no contact is a very personal decision with lots of possible implications for you to consider. Above all, it is not easy. I was lucky in that my mom didn't pursue a legal channel to force her grandparent rights. Finally, I would not have managed what I've gone through without the help of my former psychotherapist (who acted as a stand in mom to me at times and guided me through tough topics while raising my children to adulthood).

[musingsfromaborderlinesdaughter]

Brigid

Over the years, Brigid has let me know she is here as a guiding presence in my life. The little ‘bumps’ of awareness have come and gone. The one time before I decided to follow a path I felt self conscious, inauthentic, lost and confused (Catholic background and controlling mother who would have NOT even attempted to understand). So here again I’m going through some deep life changes and Brigid appears again. She is telling me it is time to embrace my whole self, to honor all that I am, and time to cultivate and celebrate my path.

[musingsfromaborderlinesdaughter]

Just Throwing that Out

In my last post I talked about Lar. My armchair diagnosis is she resides somewhere in the Cluster B spectrum. The only child raised by a conman (really & truly, a ‘hide out from the FBI’ conman), spending her life trying to prove how loyal and hardworking she is, everything she does is wonderful, everyone she touches is so lucky. She has the best kids, the best husband and life. She tries to convince everyone how wonderful she is. I ‘see’ her, I have always ‘seen’ her, and that is the biggest reason she targeted me. Destroy and vanquish everyone who ‘sees’ the real person behind the mask--that is something familiar since I watched my Borderline mother do this for years.  Every fiber of my being say to “RUN” away from this type of toxic person.

[musingsfromaborderlinesdaughter]

Running Away or Refusing to be Victimized?

The last few months I have been wrestling with issues at work and finally decided to quit. This probably looks like the most borderline-ish type of thing I have done in a very long time--and I don't care, because I needed to protect myself. Sorry, this is going to be long.

I was working for my vet. She's been my vet for almost 15 years. She is a lovely woman but can be blind to interpersonal issues. I absolutely love her for the care she has given my animals over the years. But working with her showed me she has her own issues that can be tricky to avoid triggering (as we all do--but she is at her core a very emotional person). The last thing I would ever want is to disappoint her, much like a child not wanting to disappoint a parent. Yes, triggering considering the relationship I had with my mother.

When I took on the job, me and another woman replaced 2 other women who were retiring--one was mostly incompetent, but had a 'best friend' history with the vet --we'll call her Lar. The other was extremely competent and hard working (Gabby). The 'best friend' Lar was sneaky and manipulative behind the scenes, dodging out of work and responsibility, pointing fingers to get out of blame. Eventually, Gabby's name was 'Mud' in the office--the vet thought she was the incompetent one instead of Lar. I watched this all go down and was sad and disgusted that my boss could be so clueless.

Fast forward a couple years, my coworker and I are getting along great, sharing and caring and taking care of business. The coworker was a little slow to ramp up to competency, probably because she was elderly. She was a nice woman, I didn't mind doing a little extra to help her out. She was dealing with her elderly mom, and I was dealing with an elderly dad. We supported each other so I thought.

Then Lar decided she wanted her job back. The boss decided to make a 'new' place for her to do project work. Lar and my co-worker started bonding on those days and started spending time together outside the office. Suddenly, I couldn't get the help that I needed to do my job adequately. Suddenly, dates started getting changed in the electronic files to look like *I* had made mistakes (the hard copies revealed they weren't my mistakes). But I got the message loud and clear: Lar was working on trashing me like she trashed Gabby.

Still I persevered, thinking that if I just keep all the edges together, that Lar would not win. Then my coworker asked me to dinner (just her and I), we hadn't had time together just the 2 of us for months because of my illness this spring. But it wasn't the 2 of us--it was Lar too. Ok, I thought, I'll make nice and try to be friends. But she wouldn't look at me, wouldn't talk to me, even talked over me the entire dinner. I don't know why I didn't excuse myself and leave. So I sat there being ignored for 2 hours.

Still I persevered, thought about what I might do different to turn this all around. Perhaps I hadn't been as nice as I could have been. So I checked and rechecked my work, and checked the coworker's and drove myself crazy trying to avoid any mistakes or let out how 'third wheel' I was feeling.

The final straw was in looking back on my pay records for estimated tax last month--and discovered that last December my coworker got a $2 raise and I a big, fat ZIP. Suddenly I was seeing that my status in the office wasn't just because of Lar--it was also because where once the coworker and I were on par, suddenly she was elevated over me. Suddenly the lack of support made sense. I was angry at my boss for setting this dynamic up. Hell, if she thought that I didn't deserve a raise, it would have been helpful if she had told me why. In my mind there wasn't a valid reason--since I was the coworker's 'go to' for everything she couldn't manage herself. I was the tech person, the graphic designer, the Quickbooks expert, the Excel expert, the 'make it happen' person.

This was never about money, but in the end it became about money. It became about lack of fairness and hurt feelings. I decided that I still loved her as my vet and didn't want to lose her, but I could no longer work in this place where I felt betrayed and left out. This was not a fast decision, I had been considering all these points for months now.

Ever other time I have experienced adversity at work, I have kept to the grindstone to turn it around. I have literally made myself sick at some jobs. I am proud to say I didn't put myself through this again. I really loved that job for a long time, and am grieving the clients and even my boss and coworker. But I couldn't stay there waiting for things to get worse for me. I couldn't stand it if my boss talked about me some day the way she talks about Gabby. Adios job, but at least I kept my vet.

[musingsfromaborderlinesdaughter]

Sister Following Our Mother

In the months since my BPD mother died, I have witnessed my sister going through such highs and lows and perpetuating the same bad behaviors (ok, crazy making behaviors) that our mother was famous for doing. Sis was in the middle of divorce proceedings when mom passed. She’s been divorced from her Narcissist, substance abusing husband for several months now, but he actually checked out of the marriage a couple years ago. He apparently started developing Wet Brain and couldn’t hold it together anymore. The symptoms he was exhibiting were like dementia, with no conscience or off button. He couldn’t go through the day without  popping pills or drinking. He was never a great husband, but they were a unit for many years. He was starting fires, pissing through money via gambling and scams, and lying constantly. I know Sis been through a lot, but it has been such a disappointment to see her foundering in her land of make believe and pretend. We have had the added complication of our father needing help and the bulk of the caretaking has fallen on my shoulders. When Sis starts feeling guilty for not participation or left out in general she lashes out. She’s an emotional basket case with poor boundaries (doesn’t that sound familiar?). Her coping mechanisms alienate people. She is needy as hell.   

[musingsfromaborderlinesdaughter]

Broken Dreams, Broken Love

His touch is a lie. There is no sweet repose, no lover's pleasure, no comfort. Only lies and make believe, of what was once a promise, and then repromised when the fallicy was exposed again and again and again. There is no joy for me in his touch. There is only sadness, bitterness for what might have been, heart breaking disappointment.

How can this go on? My heart is withering and becoming brittle. Can't he see this is killing me? This is not love, this is not companionship, this is not marriage. This is some sort of broken gilded cage, some sort of shared suffering. Where is the joy? Where is the trust? Where is the laying bare to each other? Where is the intimacy of heart, body, soul? All we share is chores, a bank account, and pride in our children. I am not certain he shares my suffering, he does not seem to notice anything amiss other than we no longer share a bed.

He thinks holding hands makes up for the lack elsewhere. He thinks simply going through the motions will somehow 'fix' the broken life of marriage. God help me, I can't accept a cuddle, I can't trust it. Too many times I thought it meant more than it did. The worst part is he doesn't understand the difference between wanting it to be something with more meaning than it is.

[musingsfromaborderlinesdaughter]

My Marriage

Sometimes I can just pretend all is well. Then sometimes I get slapped in the face with the reality that all IS NOT well with my primary relationship. He isn’t abusive. He is a recovering alcoholic and sex addict, and I simply cannot trust his judgement. Sometimes he makes horrifying blunders with decisions that have far reaching consequences. Like last weekend. I was gone for the evening and he was in charge of ushering our baby chicks to bed at dusk. Instead, he fell asleep (a common occurence for him, unfortunately). He had also left one of our dogs out with them. This dog had never gone after our chickens before, she was a good dog. Whatever happened that night, all chicks were gone, and at least 2 got eaten by the dog.  So now I have no chicks and a dog that is ruined for chicken monitoring. All because my asshole husband fell asleep for 5 hours while I was gone. When I think of the terror those precious little lives experienced as they were eaten alive by an animal they trusted---it makes me sick. I can’t even deal with my dog right now. And I HATE my husband. Oh he feels really bad. But in the end this is just another one of those times he proved himself untrustworthy. How can I love a man like that? How can I forgive him, yet again? Oh, I’m am sure I care about him, even love him after a fashion. But here again I find myself disappointed, disheartened, disgusted with his failings. I am not “in love’ with him. We no longer have sex, and mostly whatever sex we’ve had over the past decade was when I pushed for it. I no longer push him for sex, so we simply don’t have any together. Oh yes, this is a peach of a marriage. I should probably get out now while I am young enough to care. But I really don’t want another man and don’t think I could stand more heartbreak.

[musingsfromaborderlinesdaughter]

Been a Long Time

My mother passed away in March. So many swirling emotions that day. In the end she was simply my mother: bare to the world, impossibly flawed, at the mercy of health care professionals.She was 82, lived with heart disease for the last 45 years, and her regular Dr. really dropped the ball in monitoring her arteries. Am I sad she’s gone? Sure. In the end I felt nothing but sadness for her.  My father is now alone and his knees are failing him. he’s slowed down so much since her death that I think that his end is surely coming as well. Which makes me very sad because he spend his entire retired life being stuck at home taking care of my mom. Maybe he will get a chance to travel once his knees are replaced. I hope so. Like many spouses of Borderlines, his life has no really been ‘lived’ as much as caged.

[musingsfromaborderlinesdaughter]

My Silence

So here I am living with a sexual anorexic spouse. No plans to leave my marriage. But obviously I am in turmoil. If I could turn a switch and have my husband/marriage back, I would. But these are the cards I’ve been dealt and I need to make the best of it at the moment. I suffer from Adrenal Dysfunction. Some also call this Chronic Fatigue. I would have called it CF years ago, but this has gone on and on for ages. This is a systemic problem that I need to be careful to not lose ground and end up bedridden again. My mother is a Borderline Personality Disorder. Thank god we have a small family. My father is still with my mother, in complete denial of what our family is really like. There are so many false fronts guarding the dysfunction beyond that curtain. My one sibling is living in her own hell, with a rolling disaster substance abuser. You name the addiction, he’s got it!  Between you and me I am fairly certain he is a Histrionic Personality Disorder. Her life has been one drama after another, for 40 years now. We used to be able to talk about our mother, but Sis has become our mother’s flying monkey. I can’t trust Sis with confidences.  Come to think of it, there is a TON of emotional abuse in the background of my family. Towards each other. I have no idea why I still talk to these people. I am Atheist, so there is no ‘giving it over’ to a god. I have no one to share any of my marital problems with. I have no money for therapy. I’ve already had therapy for years about my sexual desert of a marriage. I know the problem is not me. I know I’ve done all I could over the years to make things right. I know this is beyond my control to fix. But I do wish I had an outlet to cry this out.

[musingsfromaborderlinesdaughter]

Confessions of Confusion

Years ago, when my husband was first diagnosed as a sex addict, I erroneously blamed masturbation for all of our troubles. Whenever he withheld sex from me, I avoided pleasuring myself because I was trying to be on-board with HIS abstinence. I thought: why should I do this if he can’t? LOL, right? One thing really has nothing to do with the other. In many ways I feel very sorry for him. In spite of countless hours of therapy and growth, the same intimacy block that drove his addiction is still driving his addiction. He’s spent years lying to himself about it. And lying to me. Oh, not outright lies, by lying through ommision. By taking some moral highground when other’s act badly. When his own house was burning to the ground.

[musingsfromaborderlinesdaughter]

Life with a Sex Addict

Sounds like I’d be getting LOADS of sex, doesn’t it? In reality, the partners of sex addicts are usually deprived. It is a form of Domestic Abuse. And it does happen to the seemingly nicest couples. On all other fronts, my marriage probably looks ideal from the outside. Yet I have been deprived of sex for most of my married life. I am not ugly: I am still a pretty woman in my early 50′s. I am only slightly over my ideal weight. I look good in my clothes. I am a performance dancer, and so I know other men find me attractive. The problem with the Sex Addict is that they are emotionally screwed up. They fear intimacy and so withhold sex from their primary romantic relationship.  My husband has had treatment for his sexual addiction. Things in the bedroom improved for a little while. But the old habits die hard, and hiding from intimacy is his main bag. Suddenly he developed Erectile Dysfunction. That was several years of hell for both of us. I stood by my man, while he went back into therapy and had all kinds of medical tests. There is nothing wrong with him medically. Viagra helps, but it does nothing to induce lust nor can it keep a man erect if his addiction brain has decided it isn’t going to be intimate. The ridiculous part of this is that he has strong opinions about cheating in a marriage: that cheating is the death of a marriage. That cheaters are horrible people. Yet he is a cheater himself: he’s cheated us out of the best part of our marriage! He says he’d never forgive me if I went outside the marriage, yet somehow I am supposed to turn a blind eye to his affair with himself.   

[musingsfromaborderlinesdaughter]

I Slept SO WELL Last Night

Seriously, I did. For once in a long time. No OTC drug to knock me out, either. The one change I made yesterday was to tell my sexual anorexic husband that I still loved him dearly, but was moving out of the bedroom.  If my only sexual release in this marriage is by myself, then I am done living the marriage bed lie. For myself. After 30 years. Sexual dysfunction made an early appearance in our life together, but I did not know what it was at the time. I just thought he’d lost interest in me. I spent years battling self esteem issues because my husband would not reach out to me sexually. I bought books, seductive outfits, made myself available whenever for whatever. Finally one day I came home early. But instead of finding him home doing the neighbor, I found him home doing himself. My first thought was: FINALLY, HE WANTS SEX, LET’S GO . . . But I quickly discovered that day that I had interrupted a party of ONE. There was no room for me. Finally putting it all together, I figured out he was a masturbation addict. His pleasuring himself was going on while he was supposed to be my bed mate. While I was going without, he had his own little fantasy/masturbation life that was rich enough to exclude our marriage bed. He was having an affair, with himself. 

[musingsfromaborderlinesdaughter]

A Miserable Secret

Sex drive. Can’t live without it....can’t stand living with it. I love sex, being sexual. And the only person I want to be with sexually has a complicated sex drive. He has one, but he also is a workaholic and has an extreme sense of taking care of things that need to be done. Sex is the ‘dessert’ for accomplishing all other things. So sex rarely happens.  For years I raged and cried and BEGGED. Pushed for it, scheduled it. Therapy, toys, porn. Anything that would interest him in jumping me. Now that I am settling into menopause and my needs are no longer screaming at me, a life devoid of being in a lover’s arms is not worth crying over. Not any longer. It still makes me sad though. In some ways I feel sorrier for him, because he’s never figured out that sexuality is SUPPOSED to coexist with daily living.  Somehow I managed to not go outside my marriage during all the turbulent years when my drive was over the top. I learned to take pleasure in pleasuring myself. I’ve made peace with knowing that this is just how my life has to be. The alternative is to junk my marriage, and I am not prepared to throw away what otherwise it a very caring relationship. The only thing that worries me now is that while we are close, the lack of physical intimacy also takes a toll on the relationship. The longer it is between intimacy, the more of an emotional wall is between us, the more awkward the idea of intimacy becomes.  But I am done making moves. I am not reading any more books to try to understand the differences in our drives. I no longer belong to groups where women kitch about their partner’s ED.  No more therapy sessions, no more pleading. I surrender......to myself. I drove myself crazy over the years, trying to get more sexual attention from the man. No matter what I did, it never changed him. Sure, I goaded him into giving me sexual attention plenty of times, but it always came with a cost to my self esteem. And it never bridged the gap long enough to effect real change in his behavior. You can’t change a man, not his basic nature, and my man’s nature is to put sex way down on his to-do list.  Having a strong sex drive when you partner avoids his is a special kind of hell. One I am finally making peace with.

[musingsfromaborderlinesdaughter]

Competition, Not Relationships

My sister said something a couple years ago that sums my mother up perfectly: “She doesn’t have friends, she has competitors.” Not only does this make sense when looking at the few friendships my mother has cultivated over the years, but it is applicable to ALL of her relationships. She must be the brightest, the one IN CHARGE, the Sun that everyone revolves around. If you have something good, she wants something wonderful. Her friends amount to mousey women who do not assert themselves, always go along with her. When they step out of line, they get cut. Especially if they do not have fame or fortune to make them socially important for her to keep. She never did do well as an employee--kind of hard to be a good employee when you are constantly challenging/demeaning your boss. If I start talking to a long lost relative, suddenly SHE pops up wanting to be their best friend. When I am with her too often, I fall into that place of deferring to her, letting her take point. So does my sister. We default into being her minions -- NOT COOL. I lose so much of myself.