Description
Publisher's Note: You can get this and 3 other true stories of growing up with a BPD parent in the combined author book (at a heavily discounted price): "Borderline Personality: Growing Up With a BPD Mother or Dad - Our Childhood From Hell (Four Author Antholgy)"
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Everyone has a story and people that play a part in that story. My story is about my childhood from hell, with a toxic, BPD mother. This is just a short "mental photo album" containing some mental snap shots of my life, and a key player in my story is my mother. It has been difficult piecing together these small still frames and pictures and seeing them in black and white (ie - in words), knowing that others will soon read them, as these are mostly things that one wouldn't exactly go around bragging about. However, I know that raising awareness for Borderline Personality Disorder, and letting others know that this is a hard illness to deal with, is an important thing to do.
No matter what, I love my mother because she is my mother, but that never made it less difficult, my having to live with her illness and the consequences of it. Her illness was an unnatural disaster wreaking havoc on an entire household, causing dysfunction and chaos, and leaving people hurt in the wake of her tirades. I was one of those people and, to this day, I deal with the repercussions of her illness and I believe I will always have some leftover "issues" due to this.
There are a lot of biographies and stories on the market, and I know that a lot of them sound the same. Mine may have some of the same characteristics, but I feel mine is different, for so many reasons. I know, too, that some people sit down and attempt to write their stories in a chronological fashion. I tried that, but found it extraordinarily difficult to do. When I sat down, I realized that when I think about my childhood, or my life in general, I don't remember them on a timeline, so to speak. I remember them in pictures, snap shots, still frames, or even short little videos. So, as I write, I will jump from time to time, and from different points in my life to others, because that is how I remember the horror and the chaos of my childhood and early adult life. I feel that most people remember life this way, too.
Come with me now on my little hell ride, won't you? If you are looking for validation of your own horror story of a childhood (or even to feel blessed that you were lucky enough to have a good one), you have come to the right place.
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