People broke my mother:

On her emotions –

—– in my story, with that of Mother – and Father however that played out, still remaining in mystery for me –
—– emotions became weapons of war – held in the toxic arsenal of Mother’s mental illness mind and in her body
—– so that nowhere was anyone in her universe, her family, enabled to experience any emotion but hers – ours were extensions of hers and in direct reaction to hers
—– Her own social bonding abilities were removed from her – everything that actually went on in our home was about her being continually torn apart, rent asunder.
—– All she did was, at the same time, about patterns of hopelessly trying to create repair – the bond with self can be broken, at which point it might literally be that all emotions are a sign of the damage, coming from the wound
—– all we knew, certainly all I knew, came from her mortal wounds to self and between self and world
—– as if she said with her emotions, “All I know is broken, constantly, continually breaking am I with no way to stop it though I will give all that I have inside of my body toward remaining alive though in my essence all I had to give to the world from my own self has been taken from me.   Although I try forever in this body to repair my own self in relation to this world nothing I can ever do is able to help me.”
—– As far as I can tell nothing Mother did or felt came from a place of health, nor could it restore her to a place of health — she had never known since the moment of her birth.


Please note:  I am not making any kind of blanket statement about people who suffer with Borderline Personality Disorder.  Mother’s illness was extremely severe!  She was, I believe, quite a rare case on the far, far end of a continuum of how BPD affects people.  It took a lot of people making very big mistakes, people harming her most greatly, to make her this sick.

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