The issue with my mum.

We discussed her some more today but over the past few days of being sick and what just happened to me tonight. I decided I am well and truly through. You see not everyone who has BPD had a bad environment growing up necessarily. But I do see a lot of people who have BPD have been neglected or made out to seem like they don’t have the handle on reality when the reality is, they’ve been outnumbered by family members and fooled into believing them. Their family supports them very little and/or make the situation worse.

Cue the situation with my mum and my post. I just woke up from a paralysing nightmare, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t wake up and I had no sense of what really happened. I dreamed my mum was in the room, so when I half-woke I was calling her, I wanted some assurance and to ask whether she had really been in the room. I called her twice she replied from her room and once again, but she didn’t bother to come by. I went to her room eventually seeing her awake and on her phone. So she hadn’t been asleep she just didn’t care to move. I know it was a very real nightmare and not a life and death situation but it’s just another incident where she hasn’t been there for me. Now I don’t even want to compare it to me to what I ‘would have done’ because well, she wouldn’t have had to call me that many times.

I was talking in therapy today about how I thought I was selfish and my expectations of those close to me might be high. We went on to dissect why I thought that. The past few days I’ve been sick Ive had a lot of comments from her along the lines of ‘youre all always falling around’ ‘youre always sick”go to work we’re losing money’ just anything but ‘hope you feel better,’ ‘are you ok?’ You know the type of thing you’d think someone, a parent, would say to their child. In the end I had to accept with the agreement of my therapist that neither are my expectations high nor am I selfish but that was truly a reasonable thing to expect from my mother, despite my age.

I’m done. I am done putting her up on a mother platform that she has never lived up to. Growing up it was my auntie that was my refuge, her loving home, the nights she sang me to sleep, brushing my hair in the mornings, spending time with me, telling me stories. I didn’t get that with ‘mum’ & On a psychological level I realised long ago that my mother figure was my auntie all along. I wonder if she were alive longer than she was or if I’d lived with her would I have had BPD?

I feel sad this is my next post after an optimistic one but such is life, I am OK. I have just made an internal decision that she is not the type of mum I need or have needed her to be nor the type of mother I want to be when I have a child. I will have to learn and be better for them. I am too old and experienced to keep or hold onto toxicity, I am letting the mum concept go.


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