I have a 10am breakfast meeting at one of those timeshare places where you do a tour and they give you free tickets or a gift card. But even though it's almost 3am, I'm still awake. And on the verge of tears.... No, nothing new with Suzy, though actually some things happened last night that could have qualified as something new.
Anyway, I can't talk about her, not now.
When I was 15 my mother decided that I had BPD. I'm not sure if a therapist told her that or if she came up with it on her own. That was 20+ years ago and BPD wasn't well known back then. My therapist had diagnosed me with depression, the trendy diagnosis of the day. When I heard what my diagnosis was I remember thinking, "well that's weird, I don't feel depressed."
By 15 I had been in therapy (1-2 sessions per week, group and individual) for five years. I must have been really fucked up. I know that I was always in trouble, I lied a lot and I was basically unparented even though my mother considered herself to be a very good parent (case in point: in second grade I was going to school unbathed with no socks and underwear on because I was left to wash myself, dress myself and get myself to school on time... we lived about two miles away and I walked).
I don't know that I was really neglected, I think my mom was just a really crappy parent. Raising kids takes a lot of time and energy and she was more content buying us things or sending us to camp or lessons (and letting other people raise us) than she was getting out of her bedroom and supervising us. So, I was a bit ackward and didn't have very good social skills when it came to interacting with adults or being in public. So I didn't have a lot of friends.
I remember talking to my mom a lot. We ate out a lot. She did stuff with us, took us to the movies and relatives houses. We interacted, but she just didn't parent. I don't know why, because she was as embaressed by my behavior in public as I am by Suzy's, but she just never did.
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