I’m coming up on my 50th birthday in 2 months. I have to say that I don’t feel like I’m 50 years old. I don’t feel like any particular age at all.
Maybe that’s part of the BPD; some days I feel like the lost child that’s about 2 years old, some days I’m the reckless teenager, some days I’m the newly wed nervous young bride or anxious mother, and other days I’m the nagging wife whose been married for decades. And it can all happen in a matter of seconds or minutes as well. It makes it very hard to keep time in perspective. My years have been filled with blessings, even if I sometimes challenge them. I have a wonderful son and husband. I’m often angry with them, but that doesn’t make them any less wonderful. And I have a family that loves me unconditionally. Yes, I’ve inherited some of my mental issues from them, and I grew up in a pretty different/normal (there was something but you couldn’t put your finger on it) kind of environment. I grew up never learning to say “no” to people – so I have a lot of boundary issues with people and at work. That meant that you could always count on me to get a lot done, but I always put myself last. I never learned to stand up for myself, although I’ve always stood up for others who I felt were being taken advantage of. It has stressed me to where I don’t know who “I” am apart from my spouse, family or job.
As I sit here typing this, I’m deciding that one of the things I want to do for myself for my 50th birthday is to begin to figure out who I am – apart from everyone else. If I were to find myself transported to a different country, alone, what would I be like? If I were asked what movie I wanted to see, restaurant I wanted to go to, where I wanted to go for the day etc. and I didn’t have anyone to turn to to see what THEY might want … what might my answer be? OK, I’ll be honest here … since I’ve been with my husband since before I turned 18, it’s him I’ve always looked to, not just anyone. And I’m soon to be transported 2000 miles away, while he’ll probably have to stay here a bit longer. So the situation is real. This will happen. And it actually scares me. He has been so much of my identity for most of my life that it’s hard to imagine making decisions without him. Like being single. My fear is that I will transfer that onto my 16 year old son who will be with me.