Small Validation

A Facebook friend that was our neighbor 20-odd years ago (uuuhg, how I hate being able to say that) sent a private message to me today saying, in short, "Is your mother really as sick as she says? She sounds so pathetic."

Making a long story long, I responded with several paragraphs about BPD, and how my mother is insisting that she be waited on and served 24/7 despite doctors saying that she needs to take care of herself...and how her insistence on acting as if she is bedridden will shorten her life.

The neighbor wasn't really that surprised to hear any of it, it seemed. And, she provided some tidbits that, as a child, were so normal to me I hadn't even noticed them. She mentioned that it seemed to her my dad was the only one who ever got anything done. Even going to the grocery store. My mother made my dad do everything. She said: "It is just pathetic that she won't do a damn thing for herself - and now with Facebook she is posting all this stuff that one minute makes you think that she is deathly ill and the next minute it makes you crazy because she is complaining about not being able to write out her bills because she is so weak. However - has the strength to play games and post things on FB. Really?? Now I understand why you and Kathy distance yourself - kinda like the Peter and the Wolf story. One day she is really going to need help and nobody will be there. Sad."

Validation.

Even though I have two different therapists, numerous family members, and her own doctors explaining to me that Mother is irrational, demanding, and thriving on treating those closest to her like feces... It is still validating and comforting to hear other people state they have always seen her as unreasonable.

Maybe I am not a crap daughter after all. Maybe I have just finally learned self-preservation.