Senior Citizens with BPD?

I was just replying to a comment on my last post and mentioned not being able to imagine being like this in 20 years. Are there any statistics about older people (say 70+) with BPD? How do they cope? What are their lives like?

I’m 51 and have shown symptoms of BPD my whole life (seriously! even in my mom’s baby notes), actively struggling since I was 16ish. That’s a H#LL of a long time already! To think of the years ahead is overwhelming. This is who and what I am. I wish I could pluck it out of my being, but I can’t. So – how do I get through the rest of my life and feel good about myself? 


Feeling Fragile

I’ve been with my mom for three weeks now, a week and a half since my  dad passed. All the other relatives have returned home, but I’m still needed here to support her and tidy up all the loose ends. Yesterday, we chose a burial plot for his cremains. We also went to visitation for a good friend of his who passed a week after he did.

All of life seems to be about death right now. Maybe that’s why I broke down last night and cried for my dad to come back and tell me it is all OK. I opened his bedroom door, hoping to see his ghost, but didn’t. I lay in bed, hoping his image would appear at the door with a twinkle in his eyes and a loving smile, but nothing was to be seen. I, his 50 year old daughter, cried and cried for the father I had lost.

It was his time to go, but I NEED to know that he was OK with it and how his life had played out. I had hope to have that conversation with him during his last days, but, although he was not in pain, breathing was so difficult as his lungs filled, he couldn’t talk because of the effort. At one point, when palliative care was decided (hospice), he asked me if it was the right choice. All I could answer was that we wanted him to be comfortable. I knew, and I think he did too, that nothing more could be done to try and heal him. His heart was failing as the valves leaked and constricted. He could no longer endure or survive surgery. How do you tell someone that the doctors can’t fix you anymore?

So after months of feeling better than I have in years, I feel like I’m about to crumble into a childlike heap of tears and emotions of loss and abandonment. But I can’t. I am needed as a pillar for my 88 year old mom.

Is this, then, my test of recovery? Will I hold strong now, only to fall apart once I am home and she is safe here? I hope not. I don’t want to fall back into that pit. I want to live and flourish in life. I have new friends who support me in ways I never experienced. I know I have to feel the pain, the loss, and know that it doesn’t have to consume me. I can feel it and be OK. I can, I can. I guess that needs to be my new mantra.

In Peace, He Passed

English: Photograph of a Monarch Butterfly.

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

My father passed away early this morning. It was peaceful and his family was with him as he went. I am so very grateful for all the support I’ve had from fellow bloggers as it helped me to be in a place where I can more steadily bear this loss. If it had bee a year ago, it would have been a very different story.

Thank you all.


Every Face – A New Perspective

I’m reblogging this because my comment on it, and the response I got, actually helped me feel better. A relapse doesn’t seem as bad as a disorder continuing on into yet another decade of your life. It’s just a relapse due to stress and triggers and will subside as the stress subsides. AND I am finding that to be true now as my husband has joined me, our house has sold, our belongings are here with us, and life is slowwwwllllly normalizing. My symptoms are decreasing – not gone, but decreasing. So I’d like to thank Amy for her response to my comment and share her post through re-blogging it. =)