Story #41

My story starts out young, as I promised myself I would remember everything. I knew I wasn't crazy when I was a kid, but my family tried to make me believe that I was. My parents were never happy with each other. My mother got pregnant with my sister and had to marry my father. She resented being his wife and being our mother. She always said she hated kids. I always wondered "why didn't she give us up for an adoption or have an abortion"? I felt like I was the cause of her unhappiness. My mother had an alcoholic mother who lived upstairs. My grandmother suffered from alcoholism and depression. I remember seeing her depressed when I was a kid, but I couldn't do anything to save her. She starved herself to death when I was 12. My father never wanted anything to do with us kids. He wanted me to be a boy. they even painted my room blue.

While I was in the first grade, I had an abusive teacher. I had started school when I was four, and think that I wasn't ready emotionally for it. I suffered from a learning disability and had to be transferred to a new school with new kids. I had special educations teachers up until the 4th grade. I never fit in. I was the misfit. I was stupid, ugly, nerdy, gross etc. and often teased. I had no release from the teasing when I came home, as I was emotionally, mentally, and physically abused by my family.. I was always overly sensitive. Cry at the drop of a hat. They sensed this and would have fun with it. They would tease and taunt me and laugh at me when I would punch myself in the face. They would call me a moron and a fool. When I brought my homework home to ask for some help--I was a moron, idiot, stupid--according to my father. My mother would says things like "you make me sick" "I wish I never had you" "you are crazy" I couldn't understand what was wrong with me. I had wished that I was never born. I was the cause of everyone's unhappiness.

I had a sister who was 4 years older than me and she didn't like me either. She used to beat me up, and my mother would give her permission to do so. I had no one to protect me. As far as 8 years old, I remember thinking of ways to kill myself and end the pain and misery. I tried hanging myself with bed sheets on the closet door, but I would stop because I got scared.

When I was nine, I started seeing a therapist for depression. I was just so depressed and did not want to grow up. I knew growing up would be a bad thing. So, from nine-on I have been depressed--that is 20 years. of battling depression and suicide attempts.

The emotional abuse hurt me so much, that I needed a release. I would do self-destructive things--pull my hair, punch myself, bang my head against the wall, scratch myself--etc-- anything to relieve the emotional pain. I tried to think of ways to make my mother love me. She would use mind games on me. Manipulation, guilt trips, silence treatments-etc. I yearned to be loved so badly. I wondered why God made such a bad person like me. My own mother couldn't even love me. When my mother and I were alone-she would physically beat me, pull my hair, punch me, and whip me with a belt. I just sat there and let her do it. My father was out gambling, so he didn't protect me. My mother was full of rage and anger. I felt like I was the cause of it.

When I was old enough to date--14, I jumped into a relationship. He was my night in shining armor. But, I felt like I didn't deserve him. I didn't deserve to be loved. When my parents tried to prevent us from seeing each other, I took a bottle of pills. My mother had to go to work, and was mad that I did this, because she had to leave. My father was mad, because he was in the middle of a Football game. They made me vomit up the pills. The next relationship was for 3 and a half years- He was physically abusive towards me and cheated on me. I didn't think I would find anyone better. I had fears of abandonment. If he doesn't love me-then I am nothing. He dumped me for someone else and I began starving myself and cut my arm with a knife. Then I became promiscuous. Looking for attention anywhere I could find it. I manipulated people with sex. At least someone knew I was alive at that of moment of having sex. I decided that I would be good at sex, because that was all that I was worth. I ended up being pregnant three times with all of them ending in abortions. Almost every relationship I got involved in had to do with my partner being an alcoholic. For some reason, I am a caregiver. I nurture people, and forget about my needs. If I have a good relationship going on, I ruin it on purpose. I sabotage good things. I got into drinking in my early 20's and had a problem with it. I attended AA. I've attended Alanon too, as my mother is an alcoholic.

I have been hospitalized at least 5x for suicide attempts. Each attempt worse than the one before. I have drank charcoal so much, that it was becoming my regular diet. I had a nasogastric tube shoved up my nose. I've been in 5 point restraints and have broken free. This last January, I cut my wrist open and needed stitches. I almost died, because I overdosed on pills. I've been in the psyche ward 3 times. I've been on almost every antidepressant this is, with none of them working. Now, I am on 60mg of Celexa, 10mg. of Pamelor and 25mg of Seroquel when I need it. I've been less depressed, but I am having flash backs of childhood. Now, I have a chance to be married and I don't know how to handle it. I don't know how to be loved and I'm afraid of abandonment. I'm glad this site exists. I don't feel so alone anymore. Where there is a will, there is a way. Us BPD people are survivors. Keep the faith and believe in yourself.