The Children of Borderline Personality Disorder

Interviewer: “If you could start from scratch as an emotional infant what is one thing you would tell your inner child? How would you raise your child?”

 

Interviewee: “1) you are safe 2) I love you/ it’s not your fault. Raise my inner child with compassion understanding and the freedom to be myself.. good questions”

 

Interviewee number 2: “I want to tell my inner child that she is loved. I want to validate her as a person and that she matters. I want my child raised unafraid of touch. I want her to hug, kiss and love without fear”

 

Interviewee number 3: “My mother was like a shattered vase someone tried gluing back together blindfolded. Imagine a vase that is cracked, pieces glued in the wrong place;  trying to hold water let alone flowers. Whatever she was filled with leaked on to us. She chose to fill herself up with anger, hate, and sickness; and it ran down her crevices and flooded our childhood.”

 

Interviewee number 4: “I want my inner child to know it’s ok to be who you want to be. I would want to be raised with patience, dedication and compassion. I would tell me “it’s not all your fault”.

 

Interviewee number 5: “1) You are loveable and perfect just the way you are. 2) with love, kindness, affection, and encouragement

borderline personality disorder

We are the children of borderline parents. We are a tragic ending in the lives of those who should have seen us as their most beautiful beginning. Our lives were not our own from the moment of conception. We were an object or a tool to fill an emotional void in our caregivers. We endured unspeakable abuse and hid quietly in the corner of a society that did not understand because all they saw was the makeup of a beautiful queen borderline, or pitied the waif borderline.

We were paintings on a wall to be admired and the artist adored. We were scapegoats for unspeakable rage. We were competition for individuals that lived a life of basic, primal functioning.

We were a creation of their choosing, not seen as human beings but things to be played with and utilized for self-gratification.

 

Here we are, adults ourselves. Where do we go from here? How is one to function when suddenly thrown out into the world with a foundation made of glass? We start over, that’s how.

 

Starting from scratch: erasing our childhood and reinventing ourselves

I will not be a statistic

 

I was diagnosed with BPD at the age of 14 (diagnosing children with BPD is no longer an accepted practice) but whether  I was a true borderline or a second generation borderline is irrelevant; as its all the same. I was raised and taught ways of thinking that were wrong and unhealthy.

I remember cutting to escape. The professionals all said I was attention seeking and maybe I was. I was screaming for help. I was avoiding my emotional hell. I wanted my mother to see what she was doing to me.

She never saw and the cuts got deeper. Maybe she would see now? But no. I eventually gave up and decided for a grand finale by cutting my wrists. She would have to see me then, right?

She never saw. She sent me away to a state facility. Begged the judge out of fear or what I hope was fear; I will give her that much.

That was my second suicide attempt and I was fourteen years old. I should be dead but here I am, typing away; sharing my story and showing others the way. I am paving the path, clearing the brush so that others can follow. We do not have to live this way. It is a choice and I choose to not just live but to live with purpose and truth.

By the time I was nineteen I had just had my second baby, second bout of postpartum depression, and third suicide attempt. My youngest was put into the custody of my abusive ex-husband and I was back to living with my mother and my oldest son. I had not even been out of foster care three years before I found myself in the same hell as when CPS took custody of me. The difference was I had  children of my own this time.

I made the choice to be better and do better. Everything my mom taught me was a lesson I used to my advantage, a lesson on what not to do. I found my spiritual cornerstone in the wake of my decision and kneeled before God allowing him to be my mentor in what was to become my life long lesson, a journey I could never escape even if I wanted to. I saw the beauty in a past filled with darkness.

The slate was wiped clean for me emotionally. With the support of a very close friend I erased my childhood completely and said hello to my infant self.

 

Infancy: yes, I am an adult infant

 

Birthing is a powerful thing in the life of a woman and  for me it was spiritual. Time stopped and I found myself in a primal state. That is when things clicked for me: it was my primal self that was broken. Having found a way to tap into that I was able to find a way to become reborn spiritually and emotionally. I was giving birth to more than one soul!

This child before me is priceless. If he is gold in my eyes, than the child inside of me is gold too. What did I want to teach us? I wanted our foundation to be strong! I wanted for them what I never had but wanted so desperately; to bond. Something I never did with my own mother during infancy. My instincts as a mother were strong. The will to survive and thrive were even stronger and as I nursed my babies I was teaching myself by laying a strong foundation internally. I wore them all constantly, never sat them down, answered every cry. I nurtured them and myself all at once.

This was my cure. My salvation and my journey. Today I am a hero in my own eyes and I am thankful to God for his grace and patience as he has put up with me fighting growth all these years (I am thirty-three years old!). One question has followed me throughout my journey; is there a purpose to all of this? I was petrified of the answer to that question because if there was no purpose it would mean the end of me. But purpose is nothing more than my truth. So, what is my truth? My truth is compassion and love; exactly what was given to me by grace. My purpose is knowledge for others because I did not just research the subjects, I lived them. My purpose is to guide because all that has been learned cannot be contained selfishly for me alone. That is all of our purpose, right? to be in service to each other?

The work we have to do as second generation borderlines is like a string connecting us to something higher and to one another. It is alive with a pulse, the exchange of energy; giving and taking. Like the pando trees and their one root system. We will not be sponges forever once we learn to validate ourselves.

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