I took a very long break, as you can all see. I had to find out if life really does exist outside of the sphere of BPD. You know what? It really does. I spent the last few months just enjoying life; watching good movies, reading good books, and connecting with friends new and old. But...this seems to be my life, advocating for children of the mentally and/or children of the personality disordered.
It's hard not to cry as I write this, because I have tried so damn hard for so long to get just one organization to hear the voices of us. I've sent letters and an editorial type biography to New York Presbyterian, detailing what life is like when your parent has BPD. They were all gung ho until they realized that I have No Contact with my mom. I was told that my article or whatever was not "in the spirit of helping people with BPD recover."
So basically, they didn't want their patients to experience reality. And you know what? Incresingly, that is the reality. More and more people with BPD parents are saying enough is enough, get out of my life. Many more are moving to extreme low contact because of the drama, the stress of suicide attempts, and the unhelpful mental health professionals who continually press us to be our parents caretaker. Personally, I think they do this in order to lighten their case loads and because they know that for some of us, our parent won't ever get help. These professionals are washing their hands of our parents and trying to make us responsible for them.
I've written to the NEA-BPD. 3 times. I have never gotten a response. They will gladly take your money for their overpriced coferences, yes, but as for telling you how to get involved? Nope. It seems to be some sort of mental health profesisonal fraternity or something. I don't even want to know the hazing initiations there!
I recently contacted NAMI again-we'll see how that goes.
I sent a letter to MindFreedom yesterday. I asked some questions about their mission and such.
It shouldn't be this hard to get involved. It's ridiculous that some major groups are so judgemental about children of the mentally ill. I would like them to walk in my shoes or the shoes of my friends. I *dare* a representative of eitherNY Presbyterian or NEA BPD to contact me and have an actual conversation with me. Not something in e mail, but a sit down, look me in the eye type of coversation. I doubt they will. If they do, I will be sure to tell you about it.
So that's where I have been. I guess it was a sabbatical of sorts, regrouping my thoughts and strength to keep fighting. Someday, somehow no matter what it takes, I will get out voices heard. It won't be a sugary sweet movie or book where all of a sudden I realize she really doesn't mean it, she's so ill, and gee mom let's just let bygones be bygones. It would probably be more on the lines of a book or miniseries that runs the disclaimer "Mature content. Viewer discretion advised."