The ironic thing about trying to discuss life with a BPD person is that, by time the "crisis du jour" is over, you are so emotionally exhausted you lack the strength to tell the story.
Even though I apparently remain disowned by my mother, she is now asking (via my husband) that I handle all her bills for her. Now, if she were a normal person, this would not be a big deal. But I know how this would play out.
All it would take is one phone call from me saying "You can't go to McDonalds every day this week, because I just sent out your bills and you have $50" for her to go ballistic.
She would scream about her financial problems as if I caused them...and then...within weeks...would start accusing me of stealing from her.
I could patiently itemize where every single one of her dollars went -- and she would still decide I had stolen money from her bank account.
Needless to say, even though this is a task I would do for her if she treated me with a shred of decency...since she persists in referring to me as "the other daughter who won't help me" (if at all), it is fair to say I am not going to jump at the chance to interact with her on a semi-daily basis.
There are only so many times I will volunteer to get into a boxing ring and stand frozen while someone beats the shit out of me. And this ain't one of them.
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