A note to child abusers who find their way to my blog: If you are someone like my mother was, who herself suffered her entire life from the devastating disease of Borderline Personality Disorder, you will be most uncomfortable here. My words speak the truth rather than perpetrate the lies of those who unfortunately developed their own body-brain in an early atmosphere that robbed them of the capacity to truly know right from wrong.
My mother had no conscience. She did not have the ability to experience remorse. She had no ability to experience life within an ordinary, non-distorted reality. Mother had no powers of self-reflection. She had no power to consider the truth about her actions of oppression, tyranny and terrorism that she committed against the children – especially against me – that she brought into the world. My mother was more dangerous than a rabid dog, and no power in heaven or on earth can silence my words about the truth of what this woman did because she was capable of doing what no sane person could imagine against me.
If it has taken me until the age of 60 to have gained the arsenal of scientific truth about what happened to cause my mother’s illness and about what her actions did to change the entire course of my life, so be it. In recent years our nation’s Center for Disease Control is beginning to document on the broadest scale yet the permanent and irrevocable damage severe stress and trauma during early infant-child development causes survivors. Wrapping the truth about infant-child abuse up with paper made of deceit and half truths and tying this bundle with the ribbon of denial is deadly.
Evil exists in this world. Silence breeds evil. So does doubt. If there is anything a child abuser wants in life it is to have the truth of their evil actions against helpless infants and children buried beneath the deception of lies. Part of how child abusers’ actions remain unnoticed in our society is through the silence of the voices of those who know the truth and either cannot or will not speak it.
The light of truth makes those who live a life of lies (either by choice or without choice, as my mother did), cringe to the core of their being. The power of truth is its exposure of what is true and good and right. Truth does not participate in deception. It does not hide or hide from factual accounts of wrong doing. It does not try to deplete another person’s efforts to discover the truth or to speak it.
The intergenerational transmission of unresolved trauma between people most often within families continues to happen until someone along the line says, “Enough is enough! I want to know what this trauma has to say about life in the past so that we can change our lives in the present to live a life of increasing well-being WITHOUT THE TRAUMA IN IT.”
I believe it was divine destiny that preserved 70 years of my mother’s words on paper until those words could make their way to me. My mother was robbed by the physiological changes her young body went through in its development in response to severe traumatic stress passed to her by those who were her ‘keepers’. In consequence to these changes she went through, she developed Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), which I believe is one of the most dangerous diseases a mother can have because it allows a mother to directly transmit to one or more of her children even worse traumas than what she herself experienced during her earliest years of life.
I have the ability to discern my mother’s severe illness in her every action. BPD is an illness that invades its host to the core of the molecular operations of every cell in their body – permanently. The distorted filter of information that a BPD body-brain lives with protects the host of BPD from knowing the truth – all truth. My mother’s body told her on an entirely unconscious level that if the truth ever made it into her awareness it would destroy her.
Every action my mother took against me was in her effort to block the truth of her own pain from her awareness. When she rammed my head into a toilet bowl when I was four, when she attacked me with a club intent on killing me when I was ten, when she viciously knocked me down in a giant mud puddle when I was fifteen insisting I crawl around saying over and over again, “I am a pig, I am a pig,” her efforts were to obliterate me as a human being separate from herself so that I could serve her purpose of being her stand-in replacement for her own internalized ‘bad-evil’ self inside her own Borderline hell – so she could escape.
My mother could not afford to let me escape from hell. If I escaped she would then be returned to her own hell – and in her sickness to her that meant obliteration and death. In other words, I spent 18 years with this mother being a non-person, a non-self. Any time any piece of ME appeared within the range of Mother’s perception she renewed and escalated her vicious abuse.
True, my mother was severe Borderline – a psychotic one. Yet the truth about BPD as neuroscientific research can now see on brain scans of the BPD brain in action, is that they have and will forever have a different kind of brain from normal. While there are plenty of adults who perpetrate severe abuse against infants and children, it is my belief that the delusions BPD creates in the brain-mind-selves of its hosts is probably the most dangerous because of the power ALL mothers and earliest caregivers of infant and children have to FORM the brain-mind-self of their offspring.
Borderlines are nearly infinitely able to influence the thought perceptions of others in such a way that their victims can easily fight for their entire lifetime to know the truth about what happened to them at the hands of their tyrannical, terrorist abusers.
I fully expect that the truthful words on this blog will offend every child-abusing Borderline who finds their way to these pages. Their offense is my surest means of knowing I am doing my work well because the mirror of truth that this blog holds will directly conflict with the deceptions that the BPD disease creates in the body-brain-mind-self of its hosts. I will not, however, allow the toxic contamination of any abuser’s mind stand here unchallenged.
Nor do I in any way blame BPD readers for not being able to comprehend what this blog is about. That BLANKNESS within them is a direct consequence of the terrible disease that someone who could not and did not care for them properly during their most dependent months and years of life triggered in their genetic survival-at-all-costs arsenal of trauma response capacity. The severest of BPD people will walk their entire lifetime over a difficult path trying to negotiate far more than other people will a challenging pathway about what it means to “Cause no harm to self or to others.”
May true beauty surround and heal us all.
+RATIONAL THOUGHT: POWER OF THE HUMAN SOUL BPD STEALS AWAY TO ENSURE SURVIVAL
+CHILD ABUSE AND BPD: TRACKING THE TRAUMA IN THE FAMILY TREE
+WHY DID MY SIBLINGS NOT BELIEVE MY ABUSIVE BPD MOTHER?
+MY ABUSIVE BPD MOTHER LOST HER WINGS – AND NEVER GREW UP
7 thoughts on “+A NOTE TO CHILD ABUSERS WHO FIND THEIR WAY TO THIS BLOG”
The cycle of trauma is very sad. I do see my mother as a flawed human being just like myself. I have forgiven her with my brain….I dont always FEEL it though.I also know with my brain that she was helpless to recognize her behavior. My heart ….that is completely another story. It has been broken. I did not say I am broken but I will say that my heart has been.
I do not believe that I CHOOSE this path..to be born to her.That would mean that others who have endured horrible sufferings, wars, famine, genocide…choose it. I could never believe that.
We are a broken world with flawed people with the capacity to do wonderful things as well as evil.
So, my burning question is this: What separates “us” from “them” – the BPD’s? Does every BPD do what your mother did? Why didn’t you? Why couldn’t she form as you did….you shared similar DNA? What happened to her to change her in this significant way? Your statements about running from the pain are certainly true, but all survivors do that in one way or another. I think what you are trying to say here is BPD’s lose their ability to see other people’s pain?? But my sense is that she could sense your siblings pain. Why not yours? Why did she identify with you so strongly? Does this go back to the “you tried to kill me” so she felt she had to protect herself and others from you? Did she ever abuse any of your siblings, in similar ways or at all? Was she really “present” when your abuse occured? Was there any possibility she had MPD?
I’m sorry for so many questions, I’m trying to understand both your sitation and my own…..why I was chosen as the scapegoat of the family. I know my half-sibs got “spanked” with belts and clearly remember my mother running after my brother with a red wooden paddle with holes drilled in it, although that was never applied to me. She didn’t beat me, that I remember (I walked the line, perfectly). I got other special treatments. But my current understanding of her upbringing does not allow me to condemn her. I guess I see her as a fellow survivor, with all her flaws and peculiarities. Don’t get me wrong, I hated her for about 40 years and didn’t speak to her for several of those.
Just somewhere in there I came to see her for what she was as a human, rather than what I saw as her hopelessly controlled child. Flawed. Human. Broken. A woman who had children she didn’t really want but didn’t know what else to do but put on the Mommy face and soldier on. Her life broke her as surely as mine broke me. And I ultimately found her worthy of my compassion even if I refused to allow her to continue to manipulate and control me. Before that, I was stuck in her cage she had constructed with her. I finally came to see she had no more control over her childhood than I had over mine. That was when my freedom came. Granted she never shoved my head into a toilet, she just looked the other way when my uncle’s had a little “fun” with me. She was powerless against them and I assume she felt powerless to stop them with me. I now find that sad rather than reprehensible. I survived and am stronger for it. Since I believe in reincarnation I believe I chose that path before I was ever born. There must be some big message in there for me. Maybe for you too.
I hope I haven’t offended you with any of my comments. Keep fighting the good fight. Peace.
Thank you for your comment – not at all offensive!!
I had DNA from Father and Mother — and NOT the BPD genes
Yes, Mother dissociated —
I believe every individual soul is created by God at the moment of conception in this lifetime – because God loves us.
I also believe that DNA is MEMORY and that many of us can receive information consciously (or by intuitions in the body) about ancestral experience stored in DNA
I am in the process of writing a book (with my daughter) about my childhood story.
It is a massive, complex and difficult job! Many of your concerns are in that text.
My mother was a profoundly severe Borderline. The more severe the illness, the more severe the abuse these mothers will perpetrate against someone!
I am forming a very clear picture about how Mother’s Borderline universe operated and how it was constructed. Those of us especially singled out for terrible treatment — at least for me — served a very particular purpose in the matrix of the Borderline’s mind.
Yes, my Mother was both terribly wounded and broken. I am wounded as the survivor of the worst of her illness, but I am not broken. I did not have the BPD genetic combinations that kicked in for Mother so that she never had to directly face either her life of the past or the life of hell she created for me — as the captive of her innermost Borderline core universe — and for those (siblings, Father) who existed in her outer Borderline world.
Mother could only function in her outer Borderline world if she could keep me captive in her inner Borderline core world of hell. She put me in there when I was born to be her ‘stand-in replacement’ — to be her own evil-bad self someone had told her convincingly that she was. I had to stay in there to be punished so she could escape what she could not bear. Escaped, with me held captive in hell in her place, she could ‘get along’ as an outer Borderline.
But my stories are about what it was like for me to be this captive. Mother would have done anything necessary to KEEP me in HER place in hell. She therefore had to obliterate any sign of a separate, independent ‘Linda-self’ from ever being born. If I was a self separate from her — then she was in risk of losing her own ‘life’ because I would not continue to play my part as her stand-in replacement in a hell she could no longer endure.
Very simply, here is a link to my youngest brother’s account of Mother’s abuse of him after I DID escape at 18. But these abuse incidents, all of the ones (and there were not very many) that Mother perpetrated against my siblings were NEVER about the inner core Borderline psychosis that fed what she did to me.
go here for my youngest brother’s writings: *BROTHER (1965)’S PAGES at
The topic is massive — I’ve done my best on this blog to address much of it — but the book being currently written is the first time I have put my entire story together in a line through time — and am connecting ‘dots’ in ways I never thought possible.
Sad that you had to suffer those things. But because u are bordeline…unlike the author of this blog..You are MISSING the inborn capacity for compassion and insight. You have an inability to empathize. You think the past is the past …move on. YOU can do that. But those of us who are NOT BORDERLINE are left with the long lasting effects of the trauma. You cannot understand that because u CAN”T. So its best u keep your comments to yourself about what she should or shouldn’t FEEL.
YOU ARE LACKING EMPATHY
The ability to FEEL for others.
You are just like my mother and all the other boderlines out there.
Now, I am not blaming u for ur condition. You did not ask for it. I get that.
PS About what she should be doing…ie social work and helping others.
That is her LIFES mission! Something u can’t grasp.
And by the way…My mother was a classic borderline and I am a professional social worker.
The beauty and hidden gift of my daughters and sons of BPD is
they end up being helpers as a calling in life.
I just want to add into this discussion space an important resource contained in this post today:
+MANY LINKS HERE: BLOG POSTS ON ‘DISCLOSURE’ OF TRAUMA’ AND TELLING OUR STORIES
The number one ‘symptom’ of a infant-child abuse history is the insecure attachment disorder that built itself into our body-brain during our most formative years in the midst of relationship trauma — insecure attachment disorder is assessed in adults by their inability to tell a coherent story of their life.
Finding and speaking our truth IS OUR HEALING. BPD people must take a different path…..
Well I definitely never did anything like what you mentioned your mother did, and I don’t find it acceptable. It did, however,it did happen to me in that severity, along with sexual abuse as well…..
NOTE from blog owner: I removed the rest of this BPD’s post because I considered it toxic.
Thank you for providing me with an opportunity to understand the disease that ate my mother in a new way. BPD has a purpose: To keep survivors of early abuse alive. The most important way it ensures continued survival for its host is by erasing from the survivor/BPD the ability to both truly feel their own pain (and the pain of others) as it erases the ability to learn anything of any depth about cause and effect.
My mother outran her pain her entire lifetime. It is not that she didn’t suffer, but she had no ability to comprehend that fact.
Being nearly a babe yourself at your young age of 27, you will most likely be able to outrun your pain for a very long time yet to come. Those of us who survived severe abuse, and WHO ARE NOT BORDERLINES do have to feel, acknowledge and continue to learn about what happened to us and how it affects us in our life for the rest of our lives.
Unlike BPD people, we do not have an illness that makes us truly immune to pain so that we can continue to live at the same time we ignore the truths of our lives.