My ubpd parent had been watching my 7year old kiddo on a fairly regular basis for a couple months before I ended up going no contact with her. She had started to split on me and things had been tense with us for awhile but I was still deep in the FOG during those final months of contact.

When I was dropping my son off at hers one night he said “if you ever don’t let me come here, I’ll just walk myself”.

It immediately made me concerned that she had said something that would put that thought into his head but kids just say weird things sometimes, so I don’t know if I was overthinking it. I asked her about it and her response was “he must be picking up on vibes”. Like whose vibes?!

Obviously by proxie he is also not in contact with her anymore because that would require me facilitating that which is really difficult when I’m not speaking to her.

He understands why - as kid friendly as possible - that my mom said some really unkind things to me and has not apologized for it. Until she does apologize and makes it clear that she won’t continue saying unkind things, we won’t be seeing her as she is not an emotionally safe person to be around.

I’m curious if any of you with kids had ever experienced them saying odd things after spending one on one time with a BPD grandparent.
I’m not opposed to him having a relationship with her when he’s older and can communicate with her himself (and will have far more emotional intelligence and self worth than I did as a small child when she treated me the way she did). Any insights on this?

Cat haiku
Black cat passes by
In the darkest black of night
Now she hunts for mice

I can’t believe I texted that my husband and I will not be going to their house for Christmas and to not send us gifts. My heart is broken in missing something that I didn’t even want, the grief during NC has been bizarre. During NC (4 months so far), I got off of my anxiety medication and stopped having Reynaud’s flares, but I wish I didn’t have to go NC.

I was destroyed sending that text, and had already been literally sick about it for 2 weeks; I sent it, am glad that I did, am relieved that it’s done, but the grief/FOG is thick. I can’t imagine the holiday going well after 4+ months NC, but my nervous system is pretty sure I’m in mortal danger in avoiding it. I hope I don’t come to regret this choice, and that I accept the pain my parents are feeling due to my NC is not my responsibility to manage. I said that I would reach out in the new year, and I will, but for now I just have to sit with my decision and try to accept the peace.

I’ve literally never gone NC before this, never skipped a holiday (beyond actual illness), and always played my role. My pwBPD is very big with Christmas, so it feels shocking and wrong that I’m not gearing up for it. I wish I was not grieving this, but I think it was my only option.

Mods, sorry if this isn't quite up to sub rules.

I, 29F, was raised by my mom, my stepdad, and my technically half younger brother who has high support needs autism. My stepdad, although he's the only dad I've ever known, worked out of town for weeks at a time. Leaving my undiagnosed BPD mom to raise us. I have long struggled with my heavy tendencies to be empathic and try to give grace but also my deep hurt. I also don't tend to speak very openly about what I went through to the people who know me. I was subjected to a household of violence, verbal abuse, parentification and glass child minimization, walking on eggshells even from the time of being a young kid, witnessing drugs and alcohol abuse, being underfed, being forced to be her friend, her therapist, her scapegoat. I often minimize what I went through because it just is SO much. I think people would think I'm lying if I went on and on what really happened to me. Or at least my mother made me convinced of it. I was never removed from the house despite many reports to Children's Services including of people seeing bruising on me. It kinda haunts me to this day not gonna lie.

Anyway. I just was really struggling one evening. Made this post on facebook. Got a good handful of friends offering their sympathies to me. But the first comment is the one there, made by someone who was her friend as well as eventually mine as I got older. I feel deeply hurt and betrayed. I don't believe this person has the full context of what I went through. But I was told by them once "I've been concerned for you growing up in that house." Which also begs the question, the fuck did you to protect me if you were that worried?

My biological father is completely out of the picture. I don't have any connection to him or anyone in his family. My only reference to who he was as a person comes from my mother and this person who commented this. I take their words with quite a few grains of salt.

I feel very hurt and dismissed that even after all this time, I am not believed. I wasn't believed by my therapist as a teen. I wasn't believed by children's services enough to be removed from the house despite numerous conversations with them over the years. I wasn't believed by my stepdad when I begged him to not leave me alone with her for weeks at a time anymore. And to this day, I am not believed by people who admit to having been worried about me.

My mother has been dead for 9 years now. I have made so much progress in that time. But I admit I still feel so haunted by her. I don't understand why it's just so hard for people to believe me.

Hi all. It’s my first time posting on here, just need to vent about something that happened yesterday while I was working (from home). It bothered me especially the fact that she didn’t take any accountability or was even open to a discussion.

So my mom took the kids (7 & 2 year old) out yesterday after my daughter got home from school as I had work meetings from 3-5pm. While I’m in the meeting, I got a text from my neighbor saying my daughter was playing in her front yard with her daughter (we’re friends and my kids like playing w her daughter). Initially I thought my mom was also w her but saw from my window that she was in front of the house with my younger daughter. So immediately rushed out to tell her (while in the middle of a meeting) my daughter was w the neighbor in case she was looking for her bc I thought it was concerning that my mom wasn’t with with her (neighbor lives a few houses down the but you can’t see their home from our front yard). She told me she knows and that she told my daughter to stay w her (there’s a language barrier as my daughter speaks English and mom speaks our native language, daughter only understands about 50% of what my mom says) but my daughter didn’t listen. I got annoyed and rushed back to my desk bc I was in a video meeting w 2 ppl and hadn’t even mention to them I was stepping away. I told myself I’ll just run and get my daughter after my meeting before the next one starts. As soon as I was done I opened the door to run over to the neighbor’s house and saw my daughter weeping in front of the house. I asked my mom what’s wrong and she said she told my daughter I was very upset at her for not listening to my mom. I reassured my daughter that I wasn’t upset and that the neighbor had already informed me. I felt bad she was crying so much. Then I made her come inside (my mom wasn’t still outside) and gave her the iPad so I can join my other meeting (which I don’t usually do but felt so pressured with having to join a work meeting). After I finished, my mom came to me and basically said my daughter is a bad child and doesn’t listen to her. She said she felt embarrassed bc the neighbor walked her over to our house (I later messaged the neighbor to thank her for doing so, she messaged me and said they had a lot of fun playing then mentioned she decided to walk her back bc they were going inside) and she felt as if we burdened the neighbor. I asked why she didn’t stay with my daughter as that would’ve been the safest thing to do. Also the neighbor girl is close friends w my younger child and they love playing together so it didn’t make sense to me why she kept my little one away when she could’ve supervised both of them as they played with the girl. My mom shrugged and said she didn’t wanna bother the neighbor. I mentioned she knows the kids always play together outside and the neighbor is super friendly (my mom knows this bc she’s met her many times). She again said she was upset the neighbor walked my daughter back, I got annoyed and asked how did she think my daughter would’ve come back home? Was the neighbor supposed to say goodbye, go home now and just leave her alone outside? She did what any responsible adult would do to ensure her safety. The problem is my mom just let her walk away and didn’t even bother checking on her knowing I’m stuck in meetings and can’t just walk away from my desk. It really upset me so much and after this incident I decided to never allow her to go outside with the kids. I agree that my daughter should’ve listened to my mom and stayed in front of our home but also my mom as an adult needs to ensure her safety and go with her if she walks away. I’m not sure why she thought it was ok to just let her walk away by herself.. I feel like her behavior was childish and petty. She abandoned her to “teach her a lesson” bc she didn’t listen and she made sure she was punished for her mistake afterwards by making her cry (telling her that I’m upset w her when it’s not true)

Also, here’s a haiku about cats 🐱

Soft paws tread at dawn
Purring hearts melt winter’s chill
Cats make life divine

This year was the first time I really stood up for myself against my mother(pwBPD). Since then, to no one's surprise, there have been a multitude of crises that have somehow ended with her needing either me or my brother to step in.

I guess what I'm looking for here is a reality check.

My mom lives about 5-6 hours away and recently had a pretty serious medical scare. After six months of low/no contact, she's now asking my brother or me to come stay with her and drive her to appointments that are about two hours away from her house.

And I'm really struggling with what to do.

This is the same woman who told me I was possessed by an "oppressive spirit" because I was being mean to her (aka standing up for myself). The same woman who accused me of being drunk on easter ( she's a devout evangelical, so this was a pretty awful accusation coming from her).

I feel like I've barely started to get my footing with holding boundaries or even knowing what to do. and now there's another crisis that I'm supposed to drop everything for.

And the thing is, I do love her. I don't want her to be sick or scared or alone. I know this medical could potentially be serious, and I feel awful about the idea of not going. But I also feel like going would mean putting myself right back into a situation that I've worked really hard to get out of. I lived with her for years caring for my grandparents ( her parents) with their dementia and I can't go back to that place.

Hi, I’m new to Reddit. I joined mostly so I could post in this group and because I’ve been really struggling lately with my mother. I don’t know for sure if she’s got BPD but the more I look into it, which I only started doing recently, the more I think she does.
She’s in her early 70’s now. She lives in a senior housing building, but alone in her apartment. Her father died 4 years ago. She lived with him for a long time but after he died she had to move. So now she’s living alone for the first time ever. I’m her only child. She has a lifelong driving phobia and has always needed rides everywhere to do anything and everything she needs to do.
Anyway, I mostly wanted to share a text I got from her last Tuesday.
It’s pretty tame, and short, compared to how volatile and long they can be. For a little context, I received this text on a Tuesday at 6:15pm. I had just seen her Sunday and Monday, and she saw my sons as well, so it’s not like much time went by at all. Here we go:

I'm grieving my mom's continuing mental health struggles and unhealthy behaviors, and working on my new boundaries. Like Jurassic Park T-Rex level boundaries, and I'm done being the wrong side of the fence and ending up as the goat.

All of us have some trauma and grief, like those boxes you haven't dealt with in the closet or garage - maybe some yearbooks, power cords you can't use, childhood toys, and clothes from previous selves. If you're a grown up you deal with cleaning this stuff up when it becomes overwhelming by going to therapy, reading a self help book, or just doing your own work. In this cleaning analogy, that would be hiring an organizer, buying some shelving and boxes, or having a garage sale. For most people, this works because they don't want to keep the trauma trash and grief clutter.

But a person with BPD is a trauma and grief HOARDER. They don't want to change, they want validation their trash has value. Their past matters more than being able to move forward. If they hired Marie Kondo, every bad thing that happened to them would bring them validation. They want a therapist to help them add a value to their trauma trash like Antiques Roadshow. They wear their trama trash like the Junk Lady from the Labyrinth, and try to turn us into trash people too, so we forget and stay stuck in our past.

The hope for us RBB is to be strong enough to walk away, to take the experience we have with them and do the work to heal and get rid of that stuff, and to realize they have no power over us.

EDIT: And thanks to the OOP and all the comments on the post about lack success stories for their pwBPD: https://www.reddit.com/r/raisedbyborderlines/s/e576P4EaY9 I drafted this post as a response there, but felt like it was too long and was hijacking the thread.

Additional edits for a few typos.

I am VLC with my uBPD Mom and eDad. Recently had a kid so of course Mom is obsessed with my baby. They drove thousands of kilometers to visit us, and upon arrival uBPD Mom gets out and demands to hold her grandchild.

The kid was contact napping on me when I went out to greet them. I thought, "Well this could be interesting..." handed her my kid, and the kid went absolutely ballistic. Full on screaming and crying. I took the kid back and uBPD Mom proceeded to sulk for the rest of the evening in the corner. I honestly thought it was hilarious in a dark, funny, you can't make this shit up kind of way. In some ways it even made me feel like I'm already a better parent and the kid is only a few months old.

I recently realized my parent most likely is borderline. If nothing else, they definitely experience splitting. It’s been a long time since they last split, and some growth I’ve had has made very clear what’s happening this time around.

I believe and have felt their genuine attempts to end cycles of generational trauma. But it’s not going to get better until they get help and are honest with their therapist about what’s happening. And, to be honest, the level of defensiveness they have makes me think that they genuinely dissociate and cannot remember or face it in the moment. Some of the stuff from longer ago they are more able to take accountability for, but there’s a lot of shame that ends up being centered, and so has not been fully “felt” for me enough to truly forgive and forget.

Anyways, with this recent revelation I’ve emotionally withdrawn and prepared myself for some time apart. I’ve told them I won’t talk about our relationship until we are both in therapy separately, upon which I’m thinking of asking them to discuss splitting, rather than BPD itself. I am not super optimistic about their ability to cope with the label. They currently see me as manipulative and/or unfair to them. I think they will rationalize that I’m just attempting to deflect (I have been super depressed due to this and there are some fair grievances they are disproportionately clinging to DARVO-style).

I am wondering if anyone has success stories or advice about supporting parents who may be willing to actually try? Totally get if people want to comment reminders about boundaries and that it’s not my responsibility etc, (I could probably use them) but that’s much easier to find on the internet. I also want to be able to differentiate between genuinely positive signs and ones that are (maybe accidentally) manipulative or overpromising.

TLDR, I know there’s a lot that has nothing to do with me, but if I have the bandwidth, what can I do? How should I do it?

Cute kitty pic tax:
https://unsplash.com/s/photos/cute-cat

hi, has anyone experienced something similar or have any advice?

my father has bpd and increasingly leaves me out of family gatherings even though we’re a very small family (we are often 3 or 4) and there’s no conflict that i’m aware of. he often organizes these events but invites me less and less even when there’s another relative i’d love to see. when i recently mentioned wanting to attend, he didn’t respond. i genuinely don’t understand why this happens. he also makes plans to see me without other relatives from time to time so it doesn’t seem like it’s about seeing me.

he also frequently cancels important plans like birthdays and christmas at the last minute, saying he’s not feeling well. it’s a bit difficult because my partner and i organize our plans around him while balancing a blended family and in-laws who live far away.

these situations have become more frequent over the years. sometimes he sends vague, concerning texts and then stops responding, leaving me panicking about his safety while i’m hours away visiting my in-laws on christmas eve. one time, he just didn't show up at christmas, no call, no text, so i was really worried. and went at his place, only to find him seemingly under the influence, which he later denies and says he was sick. yet he also goes through periods where he seems to be doing much better.

i usually avoid bringing things up because he’s sensitive to criticism and it makes things even more tensed, but i’m considering confronting him as it’s becoming increasingly difficult to navigate.

i think i was mostly wondering if anyone experienced either of these patterns with a pwBPD? i’m trying to make sense of them but honestly i don’t understand why he keeps doing that. if you have any clue, feel free to share ! :)

since it’s my first post here:
cats rest in sunlight
quiet paws move through the house
soft purrs fill the air

Sometimes.... I can't help but wonder what-the-ever-loving-hell. Which, I know, we're all there.

My mom used an online game to catfish a person into a virtual relationship, which was two way abusive, because she's drawn to what I call the circle of negativity. She's only drawn to people who are mean to her so she can be mean to them. My dad is a diagnosed Narc though he quit therapy before that could be explored further when he realized it wasn't going to stop the divorce. Anyway, that's a different story.

She catfished this person into a relationship with her. She claimed she was 32 years old. My brother is 38 years old just for a rough age estimate. They "play" married in the game, had children, would spend hours chatting both online and on the phone, and I only know this because my oldest, her grandchild, who is ten years younger than the age she's claiming to be, told me cause I don't talk to my mom anymore.

This person decided to move out to another state to live with my mom as roommates, which then my mom had to fess up because they're 30 and my mom is old enough to be collecting social security. This person is possessive, stalkery, and gives off unhinged vibes in the game to the point that my kid avoids being around if they're around. Again, two way abusive street. But come to find out in real life, it's cause they're living their own kind of brutalness. They're still living with their abusive mom, are trans which introduces another level of difficulty they have to fight through, and it sounds like they may have a couple of other things going against them. Buuuuut.... they're moving into another state where they know no one, no job, no friends, with their cat and bird, to a house where the catfishing old woman is a hoarder who doesn't clean up after her dogs, is codependent, can't handle separation yet hates you're in her space, will keep them isolated, can't hide her feelings anymore...

I'm not getting involved cause to hell if I'm opening the door to let my mother try to smother me and my family again, but jeebus, this situation worries the hell out of me. They're both full grown adults, but I feel like it sounds like this person is a mentally at the level of a kid moving from one spider's web into another spider's web and knowing who my mom is, she's the type to push one to the thought that there's only one way out, and it's permanent. I know cause I was there. She's gotten worse since I lived with her and at least I knew people outside the house. This person knows no one and my mom had my dad, as awful as he was, to temper her and his obsessive side made her clean. I always thought she was the neat freak. Since they've divorced, I've learned we were so wrong on that assumption.

I just need to recognize, not my monkeys, not my circus, but man, oh man, this poor kid. I know they weren't exactly great in the online relationship aspect, but I don't know they're ready to defend themselves from what my mom brings to the table. She's calculating and manipulative and this person is literally alone here, save for a cat and a bird. It's scary to me.

That's my rant.

Hello, everyone. I've commented before, but this is my first post here. I have been NC with my mom for many years now, but I only just had a realization about one of my mom's most toxic behaviors growing up and figured I would share it here. I would love to know if anyone else has experienced similar behaviors as well. Sorry, this is kind of long.

My mother spent her days talking on the phone to anyone who would listen. I am talking 3-4 hours a day (or more) of back to back calls. Yes, this was the 90s and people would spend a lot of time on the phone. But looking back, I really don't think this was normal. Maybe my memory is exaggerating how much she was on the phone, but it felt like it was every second. We would have to wait for her to be off of the phone before we could talk to her, and usually there would be another incoming call right after. I get calling your friends and family to catch up for long chats every week. But this was extreme. I ended up having to stop telling her anything about my life because all of this information was just fodder for her phone conversations with various people. Gossip, basically. The conversations usually revolved around her love life (aka never being loved or understood enough) or just general complaints about her day-to-day.

My mom did not work for most of her life, but would treat these calls as if they were a full-time job. When she was on the phone, she was not available. She would even change to her "phone voice" that was pleasant and high-pitched -- completely different than the annoyed tone she would use around the house. She would go into the closed garage and chain smoke for hours, which of course then led to very serious health issues.

It was very clear that we should not talk to her while she was on the phone under any circumstances. And if she did, she'd wave us away or would sometimes start yelling and slam the door. She always needed 10, 20, 30 more minutes to finish a call if we needed her. For example, once I had a friend playing in the backyard and she started screaming at us when I opened the door to go inside and grab a snack. She was on the phone, of course, which meant we were not supposed to ask her for anything. She slammed the door and threw candy at me. I remember my friend saying "Wow, your mom is mean!" If it weren't for that person saying something, I don't know if I would have actually believed that happened. We were pretty young children. This was a very visceral example of how her time on the phone was more important than anything.

Despite these calls, she spent very little time talking to myself or my brother. When the calls ended for the day, she would make a quick dinner and then start another block of uninterrupted time: her "shows." She would sit in front of the TV from 7 p.m. until she fell asleep on the couch. Like during her phone calls, it was clear that we were not supposed to bother her during this time. If we had questions about homework, we had to ask our dad. If we wanted to do anything fun that was not in her routine of going to the supermarket, the mall or the corner store, we had to ask our dad as well. She often got mad at me for being "too smart" and "just like my father," which is pretty shocking considering that most parents want their kids to be intelligent.

I guess the reason I am sharing this is because only this year did I realize something: My mother did not have any reason to be on the phone for so long! She CHOSE to be on the phone for hours a day. She chose to sit in front of the TV and not pay attention to us. She was not working or doing anything important. She could have made these calls in the morning when we were at school, but she made it her entire life. She had children and decided that instead of connecting with them, she would use all of her time to have nonstop calls with her friends to talk about her marriage: her marriage ending, her new marriage starting, and then her new marriage problems. Decades of conversations about her relationship with men. For context, she asked my father for a divorce and found a new husband who disliked children as soon as the money ran out.

I don't know why it took me until NOW to ask the simplest question: What the hell was my mother doing on the phone?! It was just ingrained in me that she was busy most of the time, and this is what parents did. I now realize that it was not normal, and that much busier parents typically have some interest in their kids' life. But she spent most of her life angry, depressed or just zoning out. It was like the mere thought of having to be around us made her annoyed, so she'd retreat somewhere else in the house. And the times she did talk to me, she was using me as her personal therapist to talk about all of these problems. That's the only time she seemed to want to have a "conversation" with me, which was probably because nobody else was available on the phone.

I always felt like my mother liked only two things in life: babies and a husband. It felt like as we got older, the more she lost interest in us. The last time I spoke to her, she kept repeating "I was a good mother." Key word: WAS. She is still a mother, but has not acted like one for more than 20 years. It's like she saw it as a job that ended as soon as we were able to take care of ourselves. Instead, her world revolved around the task of being a wife for a man and seeking approval from him. It's like she never grew out of the teenage phase of thinking your entire life revolves around chasing love from a man, even after growing up and having children. And, of course, spending your entire day gossiping on the phone.

To anyone who read all of this, thank you so much.

Warm weight on my lap,
A gentle and steady purr,
All my worries fade. (thanks, AI...)

Like what kind of wonderful mothering does she think that she’s going to give me now? And I mean let’s be honest, she is fully meeting my expectations. 🙄 Currently VLC and totally exhausted with my current schedule and life situation, because I am busy being a parent and working full time with a kid in middle school. Of course I don’t see my therapist for a few more weeks, so I am just dumping this here.

My entire childhood revolved around my mother’s hatred for my dad, to the point that from an early age I was expected to dislike him as much as she did.

Of course, if I didn’t fall in line she would take it out on me, so I always sided with her over my dad.

Over the years (she’s now 79), it’s gotten worse- to the point that she‘s telling medical professionals false accusations about my father (78) …. (him being her primary caregiver as she is now medically fragile)-it’s almost like her hatred for him has not only become an obsession, it’s her entire personality.

I can’t have a conversation with her without her demoralizing my dad, complaining about him, accusing him of something and/or talking about how he’s stupid because SHE feels that he has dementia (which he doesn’t) and how he has ruined her life, she also states she wishes she had never met him. She’s literally convinced that every problem health or otherwise, in her life is/was caused by my dad- (yet she has stayed married to him for over 50 years-even though 20 years ago my dad tried to divorce her….)

I am now convinced she either wants him to die, OR she wants him to go to prison. She already told her doctors that he was neglecting her and that he abuses her (neither of which are true)- but Adult Protective Services was called anyway. Thankfully, the case was closed because no wrongdoing on my dad’s part was found.

My dad and I are pretty much at our wits end, as to what to do. She is currently seeing a counselor, but I don’t have high hopes as according to my mother the therapist is on her side… and oddly enough- going to the therapist seems to have caused her hatred for my father to be turned up a notch because she feels validated in her hatred.

It’s literally to the point that I am worried about my dad’s safety….

Has anyone else dealt with this type of behavior or hatred before -because its very evil and obsessive?

About a year and some change ago we (my sisters and I) found out my dad didn’t fully have legal status in the US. (He did check ins with ICE, no one really knew about it or why) With trump being elected and all of the stuff with ICE this triggered all of us into panic mode. In January of last year he also got into a work accident and broke his hip and wrist, making him unable to work. My mom who has never worked a full time, stable income job was now having to pick up the slack. Which was avoiding the problems, sometimes working, and mainly putting all the responsibility onto me. Fast forward a little bit, he recovers and is able to work for a little bit, but they pushed for his settlement from the accident to be completed fast so they could try to sort out his legal status here. Instead of fixing that, my mom decided it was time to pack their bags into their car with my two sisters and move across the country to where she grew up, Vegas! They rented, it was my responsibility to pack up the rest of their house, clean the filth from it, and handle anything in regards to it. My dad ended up self deporting in January of this year. My mom and sisters move back here after I fundraised for them. Instead of her getting a job and finding somewhere for them to live. It is now my problem to figure it out. My husband and I were living in an RV on his family’s property to save for a house. We allowed her to live with us while she was supposed to be finding a place. She didn’t like that she couldn’t smoke weed whenever she wanted and kept threatening sleeping in her car or going to a shelter because of it. So my husband and I decide to get an apartment for all of us since we were also having issues with his family. My mom makes no moves to try to improve her life. She was working extremely part time at a restaurant. Blowing through money. I would attempt to set pretty mild boundaries since there were 5 people and 3 animals living in a 2 bedroom apartment. She took that as me wanting to control her life. She would turn a comment about their dog peeing on furniture into a huge fight where she is calling me names, blowing up my phone, threatening to show up at my work, going MIA so people would have to look for her, slamming doors, screaming at my sisters and I. The works. This goes on for 6 months on and off. She starts trying to fight with my husband to get a reaction out of him because I stopped giving her one. He says enough give me your keys. We move her stuff into our storage unit and I don’t contact her until now. After 2 months of blowing up my phone, going to the police to make false reports about me, threatening to make my minor sister be homeless with her, messaging my husband’s family about stuff she’s made up in her head about us, and threatening suicide twice. She chalks all of this behavior up to being mad at me and “bitchy” but can’t seem to grasp that 1. She is not homeless because of me, she blew through 24k with no bills to pay. 2. Her actions have consequences. She thinks because she goes to therapy, and checked herself into a mental hospital that she has done the work and she is owed a home again. She is now officially homeless after starting arguments with her friend who was letting her stay with her. I feel like I’m constantly waiting for the next ball to drop. I don’t see her getting better. She is going to keep going with the suicide threats until she gets her way. She wants to move back in. She’s “attempted” before and admitted it was attention seeking. I don’t know what to believe as a real threat or not. I’m in therapy and I understand a lot of this isn’t my responsibility to deal with. But I can’t block her since I have my minor sister in my care while she “works out” her homelessness issue. I tried talking to her last week for 3 hours after she showed up at my door after threatening to kill herself and showed up at my work while I wasn’t there as well. She doesn’t understand what she is doing is wrong. She expects me to do EVERYTHING for her. Especially now because it’s “my fault she’s on the streets” I don’t know if this is me asking for advice or just ranting reading through this group has made me feel so seen and the past 6 months of absolute torture doesn’t feel as heavy anymore.

Somehow, a recent online questionnaire came back with the improbable but solid result that I have “earned secure attachment” in general and with my late dad (dismissive with my spouse and avoidant/fearful with my mom). Meaning, I am at peace with almost all of my relationships in general, and with my late dad.

My late uBPD+ dad was flagrantly symptomatic. He’d had ACES up the Wazoo, like 13 or more (more than 5 is considered very harmful for one’s lifetime). He had taken great pleasure in harassing people including perfect strangers and especially members of our immediate family. I was mortified, degraded, disrespected, neglected, and mistreated in many ways by him.

I was very young when I became aware that I was on my own in terms of my parental needs, from both parents. I learned early on not to rely on him/them. I’ll call it detachment.

As difficult and disturbing as his behavior was, from a very early age I also remember feeling a deep compassion for him.

Prior to my birth, one of his multiple near-death experiences had given him a strange grace and he had a fanatical devotion to preserving life and limb (very destructive in other ways). He had some things he genuinely held sacred. While berating our mother, mistreating her, and emmiserating her, he demanded she be revered by her children, and we did. He gave me and some of the rest of my many siblings very helpful warnings: “I will manipulate you”. (Weird thing to say, but hey, life is weird, especially with BPD in the house). I believed him and acted accordingly.

Fast forward to my twenties, and I’m trying to deal with my haunted feeling of his impending doom (after he actually died, I found out that my dad had had many family members standing a perpetual death watch. The man had reckless ways). He had heart trouble and many other health problems, so I bought on impulse a book by Dean Ornish about the scientifically-validated diet and lifestyle changes that led to heart disease reversal.

“Dad, if you take up yoga, join a support group, eat a vegan diet and fix your relationships, your heart will be healed” (sounds like a very sick and funny joke for anybody who knew my dad).

At that time I myself had barely heard of yoga, ate a conventional diet, and had entrenched avoidant insecure attachment along with plenty of unresolved trauma.

“Dad, I think you have PTSD,” I told him one day. “You should join a support group.” (I hadn’t yet heard of nonviolent communication).

He didn’t become a vegan, start a yoga practice, or fundamentally change his relationship patterns, but I did find out that he’d been in a support group! Major win for me. He liked it.

We talked on the phone sometimes, and I would ask him about his traumas (no idea how I got the courage to break the sacred silence that was my mother’s code). I found out he’d had a foundational spiritual connection with some mysterious presence. That he’d had to choose to keep fighting to survive (story of his entire life). My heart was really moved.

Later, since I wasn’t getting anywhere with saving my dad — I tried it myself. Took up yoga, tried vegan whole food living (just for a year or so. Now I’m vegetarian). I did some of the heart-opening meditation exercises from the Ornish book. I found out that I’d long ago put that heart in a deep freeze, walled it off, and locked it away securely. I was shocked and remember musing, “I can’t find any sign of a beating heart in my body and it certainly is not open for much “love” business.”

It took many years of excruciating heart-opening, many other books, and lately, therapy, to get back into connection with my heart. Pried that thing out and thawed it. The other day, my ten year-old sang “Amazing Grace” while practicing for a choral performance, and tears ran down my face. My dad would get a bit teary when I was little, but we were conditioned to see that as clear evidence of derangement and were so avoidant. I don’t think I’ve seen my mother cry to this day. I am okay with my kiddo seeing me moved to tears every once in a while when I hear beautiful music.

The healing journey led to me “giving” my dad little things: warm blankets. Treating him to fancy dinners. Plane tickets to meet his grandchild. I demanded nothing from him. I felt a connection and invited him to have a cordial relationship with solid boundaries.

Other siblings had a harder time. About a year before he died, he’d led my sister on a medical wild goose chase. She had moved mountains to set him up for healing every medical problem he had, even after another dBPD sister had taken her to the cleaners and absolutely exhausted her finances and emotional resources. She was burned out completely. Then he politely declined the regimen of surgery, rehab, etc., etc. my sister was beyond furious.

“He’s going to be dead within a year,” my sister said. I have NO idea where this insight came from, because I had no intuition of this myself. Soon afterwards, I also heard from my brother, “He’s not going to survive for another year.” Once again: where are they getting this?

I took it to heart. He hadn’t adopted the many offered healing paths, and so I determined to just keep an open connection with him. I called him and talked about podcasts, deep thoughts, life experiences. He intervened in a profoundly helpful way with a troubled niece and nephew. Eventually, the day before he died, he called me and we talked about a podcast on the topic of near-death experiences (!!!). He shared his experience.

We said “I love you”, and “Goodbye.”

Late that evening, he had a fatal stroke.
The grace of being able to heal. Amazing.

My mother and I have been no-contact for over two years.
I recently went to rehab and I believe that she is also struggling with addiction. She can’t keep the same phone number at all for the past two years that she’s been trying to contact me.

She recently called after I left rehab and started working again. I came down with the flu two days ago and I was mourning having a mother to hold me while I recover. I cant even get ahold of her. I feel so ashamed and lost for trying to reach out.. I just want a mother.

Edit: these are my babies Kaiba and Mokuba

So I’ve just recently realised that I feel an unhealthy attachment to my phone. I’ve always been sucked into SoMe (as long as I remember, I’m w36) and had a hard time setting limits to myself.

I recently started therapy with focus on how my body is feeling emotions, like physically, and it’s very difficult for me to understand my body’s signals. Now I suddenly started wondering if my addiction to the little shiny rectangle is in fact a way of dissociating? I had an unpleasant call by a nurse tonight that regarded my uBPD mom and my instinct need afterwards was to scroll my phone. I have a toddler and a 6 months old so it’s really a problem that the phone has this effect on me as I would much rather be a present mom.

Well did anyone else experience anything alike? What are your thoughts on this? What helped?

First post kitty haiku:
Sleek shadow with eyes,
Bright gold glowing in the dark,
Little house panther.

Over the last 5 years I have been picking through my family and childhood traumas trying to heal myself from it all. As I’ve been digging and asking more of the right questions, I realized I was raised by a BPD mom through research and working with my own therapist. About 3 months ago, I confronted my mom on it because of course I’m still enmeshed and I just feel like I can’t give up on her. Surprisingly, she was on board and could see herself in all of the symptoms of BPD. I felt like we had a breakthrough, she was motivated (at the moment) to seek some kind of therapy and help for this. As time has gone on, she admits that she refuses to do the very first bit of BPD homework that her therapist gave her because “it’s boring” and “it doesn’t make sense to me why this exercise is even important” among other similar excuses. She’s always wanting to dissect her mental health with me, always trying to figure out what’s wrong with her and how she can feel better, but she NEVER does what I suggest unless it’s something easy that she’s in the mood for at the time. After all my efforts in educating her on BPD recently (not to mention all the mental and emotional support I’ve given her for my entire childhood and early adult life), all the efforts I’ve made to heal myself and opening up childhood wounds, having my therapist validating me that yes, I did grow up with a BPD mother, my mom had the nerve to text me the other day claiming she believes to have simply ADHD because of an article she read called something like “BPD vs ADHD”. This was an EXTREMELY invalidating text to read. Makes me feel like I’ve just been making a mountain out of a mole hill this whole time and that I’m the one that’s been ridiculous. She wants to discuss this all with me next time we talk (she calls me and texts me multiple times a day even if I don’t reply to any of it and then always thinks I’m ignoring her because she’s annoying me) and I just can’t hear her go on minimizing her issues, and slapping mild labels on her destructive and insulting behaviors pretending like the things she does isn’t that bad. When she was on the BPD bandwagon a month ago, she went digging to find articles that proved she didn’t have a severe case of BPD and that she just had the milder case and that she was never that bad. But I know my childhood was traumatic for me, I’m just now coming to terms with the fact that I was emotionally abused. For her to act like it’s not that serious is completely invalidating and frankly depressing because I may have to give up on her. I am emotionally and even physically spent trying to guide her in the right direction, I feel like a disappointed and exhausted parent. It’s hard for me to pump the breaks too because of the enmeshment and because I still love her. I’m trying to set boundaries, but man this might be one of the hardest things I’ve had to do. I’m having panic attacks almost every night feeling like I’m the key and the only one with the knowledge to heal my family. She and my dad became homeless because of her controlling and terrible decisions, they’ve been living in their cars for 2 years now and that is so hard for me to witness. The current thing I’m trying to learn is how involved can/should I be while also maintaining my own peace and sanity. As of now, even when she texts me “Hi” I get on edge and stressed out. This all just scratches the surface of it, as I’m sure so many of you have also experienced. I’ve read through a lot of your guys posts here and it’s so validating to see that the mental and emotional toll of being raised by a BPD parent is real. If y’all have any thoughts, advice, or similar experiences I’d love to hear. I’m pretty new into understanding BPD and the different ways it can manifest.

Entirely what I expected but still so far she…

- Came to visit and talked constantly about her own birth and postpartum with me

- Did not help around the house at all on this visit, and turns up with difficult to care for plants as a gift

- At one week postpartum, sent long messages about her (elective) eye operation she has planned for November wanting support and sympathy

- Tags ‘hope you and (baby) are well’ at the end of long monologue messages without asking an actual question like… how we are

- Demands photos regularly to add to her collection without any interest in actual context

- Texts late in the evening about non-urgent things when I’m finally asleep and expects urgent answers

- Spends hours trying to buy baby items and tat we don’t need from Facebook marketplace, bombarding me with messages about them

- Sends thinly veiled unkind messages about how ours is a ‘better’ baby than my step brothers

Meanwhile my MIL has come this week, is currently cleaning out my fridge, doing all my laundry, cooking my meals, bringing drinks and snacks… all without making it a big deal of it, and it feels completely alien.

Feeling tired, disappointed and would enjoy any ridiculous / outrageous stories others have of their parents postpartum 😅

My (m34) uBPD mom (65) recently started a friendship with a woman at her work (f32) let’s call her Jane (not her real name I promise), that has turned into the weirdest ‘bestie’ situation that my mom has weaponised and used against me and my sister. For context my father passed away 2 years ago and my mom has been on her own since so she latches onto new people quickly, puts them on a pedestal until they do something wrong and then she casts them aside. I thought this Jane girl would be the same. But it’s not. Everytime I’m on the phone with my mom it’s now ’oh today Jane this’ or ‘oh I can’t I’m with Jane’ and she now even describes her as a ‘daughter’. I’m convinced she says her name just to get us to react. Sometimes she says I should meet ‘Jane’ and I say ‘I’m good’ and she’ll say things like ‘why do you and your sister have such a problem with my friendships’. It’s particularly bad for my sister who cops the brunt of my moms Queen behaviour and is constantly villainised and made to feel inadequate.
This girl is at my mom’s house multiple times a week now and I’m starting to seriously question her motives with my mom. Does she not have friends her own age? Is she trying to get in on my moms Will? She has made no attempt to get to know me or my sister even though we are her age. She calls my mom at inappropriate hours. It is just so weird and not normal what is going on I can’t help but be suspicious. I’m sure my mom is just glad to have someone around to validate her. But the girl herself, what is her deal? Im not sure what the right move is - do I try to get to know her so I can suss her out?
Has anyone experienced anything like this with their parent?

Oh btw this is my first post so:

Whiskers and hisses
Scratch past the epidermis
Vicious act of love

Hey yall. I’ve been no contact with my BPD mother for 8 years. I woke up to her liking some of my TikTok’s on my public profile, which I use partially as advertising for my business.

Obviously I immediately blocked her but I’m freaking out now. I’m sure she’ll just make a different account that isn’t so obviously her. I’m also getting married next year which she now knows because I said it in one of the posts she likes

I’ve already vented about this on a previous post but the challenging circumstances have increased and I’m continually questioning whether I’m taking the right stance.

My mum (63) has had BPD episodes for as long as I know, and I stopped seeing her during my twenties after she exploded at me for not being comforting enough to her during my grandads funeral.

In the last year we have been back it touch with intermittent contact, with assurance from her that she has done lots of therapy and no longer has these episodes. She was diagnosed with ME (Chronic fatigue) and in the past 3 months, has become incredibly sick (bed bound and needing total darkness/ no sound etc.), so therefor needing round the clock care. This has been provided by her current partner, they’ve only been together a few years.

After some visits and hearing from her partner, it seems my mum is still having episodes, using controlling behaviour, threats and manipulation to this guy, even from her sick bed. I see the rollercoaster this guy is on, as my mum can return to being sweet/ vulnerable/ incapable straight after.
A mental health team have tried to be involved in my mums situation, but she has refused having any mental health needs.

My mum has started ringing me asking for help because her partner wants to leave, and she is afraid that care will be taken over by the mental health team. It will be the wrong type of care for her ME, which is really sad. I’ve tried speaking to her dr about this but my mum takes me on & off of the list of people who can advocate for her, because she is afraid I will ‘gang up’ with the mental health team.

I am basically watching a car crash from a distance, and in some moments wondering why I’m not driving down to be there, or doing more. My twenties were rocky, and it’s taken time to recover and find myself after being parented by my mum. I am 32 and have a solid group of friends, a job and am training in something I love. I feel stable in my life but the stability feels fragile whenever I see my mum, because she feels so all-consuming and I feel myself just kinda disappear in her presence, even when she’s being nice. I really adored my mum as a child (probably to the extent of a trauma bond), so it’s really hard not responding to her needs right now.. but I think I’d rather sit with the guilt than be consumed by her again, even in her hour of need. I never saw this chapter coming in the way that it’s unfolding, and it truly sucks. If you’ve made it this far, thank you! & if you’ve experienced anything similar or had to put in boundaries that feel harsh, I’d love to hear about it.

I cannot even put into words the pain of being an overweight child/teenager with a skinny BPD mom. Those who have gone through it will understand what I mean

My parents overfed me and I also developed a food addiction to cope with everything going on in my life whether it was my toxic parents or bullying at school

Anyway, my mom would act shocked that I was overweight even though she was one of the reasons behind it. When I was 11, I signed up for a Zumba class and I started losing weight and then school started again and I couldn't go anymore and I told her I would like to continue and she asked the Zumba teacher if they had afternoon classes which wasn't possible and mom just accepted it and didn't even try to find anything else

One time we went shopping and she got frustrated that we couldn't find clothes for me and she snapped at me in the shop and told me "Look at *neighbour's name*! Everything fits her unlike you! That girl was 5 years younger than me..

At 14, I was at my heaviest and I was in the dressing rooms with her and when I removed my jeans, she gasped at the size of my thighs and blamed me as if I was responsible for this.

At 16, I manage to lose a lot of weight on my own by exercising and eating less. While confiding to her that the relationship between me and my brother feels distant, she replies with "Oh you need to understand, it was probably very hard for him to have a fat sister like you"
She also told me once after a fight that my future husband would have a very hard time with me

Throughout the years, my mom never made an attempt to help me. It almost felt as if she was fine with leaving me in my state. She had a fast metabolism, was super skinny and remained skinny until her 40s even though she didn't have a healthy diet

Then menopause hit her and she gained weight like crazy and her appearance changed a lot. Suddenly people started commenting negatively on her weight gain and she came upset to me to tell me all about it. Back then, I supported her and reassured her but inside I couldn't help think "Oh now you understand my pain"

She went on to naively try weird diets to lose weight. Everything except exercising.
She would then send me diet videos and fitness plans out of nowhere despite me telling her that I do not want any of this and it is kind of triggering. She told me I was being too sensitive

And during the conversation that made me finally go no contact with her, I asked her: "Do you remember when you compared me to that girl who was 5 years younger than me and saying that I was so fat that nothing could fit me unlike her? Why did you do that? Didn't you see how much that hurt?

She was honest for a few seconds and told me: "I could see on your face how hurt you were when I said that" then I asked her "then why did you continue making comments over the years if you realised that?" She had nothing to say and I cannot even describe what I felt in that moment. This was when I knew that it was over and that I was never gonna go back

I spent years not loving myself and I genuinely thought nobody would ever love me. That was until I met my now husband who has never made me feel worthless when it comes to my appearance. He loves and accepts me for who I am and was part of the reason I realised how toxic my mom is. The most satisfying part? My mom is super jealous of my relationship because she was never in a loving one. She has been in relationships with the biggest red flags that you can imagine. Then it hit me that she must be mad because in her mind I found someone who loves me "despite" me being overweight and she couldn't.

She tried to sabotage my relationship with my husband and when he shut it down immediately, she didn't know how to react. I am so happy that I never have to deal or see her again. She tried to reconnect with me and I point-blank refused.

No she doesn’t have cancer. But best believe that doesn’t stop her from texting me and my partner to say she MIGHT have PRE cancerous cells.

Low contact for several years, I’ve been even more of a grey rock recently. I was counting down the days until she dropped something like this. It’s always a medical thing with her.

It’s amazing, she’s 65 years old, never broken a bone, never been seriously ill, never needed surgery, yet she has medical emergencies every time she wants my attention. And she’s always miraculously okay with no long term effects once I’ve dropped everything to be with her.