I am a mother with BPD. A single mother at that. Someone who is unable to see the world as this shinning place. Not like her…no probably never like her. My daughter loves and loves and yet I have times when I feel like I am bringing her down. That she would better off with another family. Someone who isn’t tainted as me.
Who is able to walk outside without checking the doors and windows as they leave. Who is able to walk outside without the fear that someone will follow behind and hurt them. That when they get home someone will be waiting for them.
There are things I worked past. I no longer knock on my front door before I enter and I can finally open my blind enough to let in sunlight. But so much hasn’t changed or has even gotten worse. I get frustrated with myself. I try to much to be perfect for her that I hadn’t noticed that it made it easier for her to see me being weak.
I cry at night…nearly every night. I distract myself to stop the whispers from taking over my mind. It is the whispers that make me insane.
We have our traditions. Our mommy and me activities that no one else is allowed to join in. I can tell she loves those times. Yet why don’t I feel good enough. Worthy enough to be her mother.
This post though…this post made me realize those faults. Made me realize that in the long run I could be setting her for a life much like my own. A life where I can even go to bathroom when I am home alone. At least not without knocking on the door first.
I don’t want this life for her.
I know it won’t happen overnight but I pray to God to give me the strength to be there when she needs me. I know she needs me. I am her momma. I know she loves me as I love her.