Re: Brainstorming a book

[Guest guest]

Well guys, thanks for all the encouragement about the book idea. I ve

begun!

Here is the preface that I ve written at this point.

Orphans of the Fog

This is not a pretty story, nor is it a happy one. But it is my story.

For the children of the estimated 30 million Borderlines in the US, it

is our story.

We become aware from a very early age that something just is not right.

I knew that something was just not right about mom, but still, she was

Mom. Wasn't she? It was not till my 5th decade I learned about

Borderline Personality Disorder, and realized that was the flavor of the

brokenness I had grown up with.

You can see it in our eyes. Hidden behind the smiles, the masks we put

on to survive our crazy world, it is always there. Fear. Fear of not

obeying rules we can never discern. Fear of some trigger we don t know

setting off the chaos that is our world. Obligation. Something,

anything, everything that we know we should do to make it right. Some

magic formula or word or deed that will fix what is so broken in our

world. Guilt. It's all my fault. It' s all my fault. Why

didn't I make it go right?

The FOG surrounds us when dealing with our BP parent. (Fear Obligation

Guilt.) FOG starts as a warm blanket that first covers, then traps,

then smothers out whom we are. Often we don t have any idea who that

person might be. We were never truly kids. We were three-foot tall

parents. First graders responsible for keeping a 26 year old from

committing suicide. We existed only as something to care for mom.

Instead of feeling that intense maternal protectiveness, we were

expected to provide it. BP s are very good at using that FOG to keep us

where they need us, for they are terrified of not having us to care for

them. Not surprisingly, it worked, for we were children.

The Borderline parent is a bottomless pit of emotional and physical

need, and we, their children, being young and defenseless, are very

successfully trapped under that blanket of FOG. The results, at best,

are devastating. At worst, we are left dysfunctional and incapacitated.

We grow up with no sense of self, or value, or ability, except as it

relates to them. It sounds pretty awful, and so it is.

It takes a very long time to heal. The sadness and loss are profound,

and at times, crippling. Often, in our brokenness, we perpetuate the

hurts and dysfunctions to our children, the one thing we swore we d

never do: Be like mom was.

Part of the healing is simply understanding the baffling things that

were happening to us. It is coming to realize that for all the places

inside that were sucked dry, or never filled, it is truly possible to

heal. It is forgiving what was, accepting what is, and grasping hope

for what may still be. It is being able to trust God, to trust those

who can and will help us, and to risk asking for help.

Growing up with a Borderline is a lifetime of loss. It is an emptiness

and lack of trust that reaches profound proportions. Most of us battle

depression, anxiety, addictions, and non-existent self-esteem. The

effects in our lives are devastating.

We live in the FOG. We breathe it in; soak it up thru our skin until it

is a part of us. We must be orphans, for we are thrust into the role

of the adult, and there is no one littler than us. Sometimes, that FOG

is all we have. It s not fair. We should be children of our mothers.

Instead, we are Orphans of the FOG.

We are deeply wounded orphans.

My healing has begun. I have come such a long way. I have such a long

way to go. But it no longer seems overwhelming and impossible. Now it

just seems bigger than me. That's ok, though, because I have help.

My friend and counselor, Angie J , (LPC) , asks me from time to time

if I believe yet that Christ truly loves me, chose to love me, and

always loves me. And being honest, I always have to answer, sometimes.

I know I m healing, for once I would have said, no.

I know I m not fully healed yet, or I would say yes.

Yet I know Gods love better than I once did, because she demonstrated it

to me. It is because of her gentle trust, compassion, and wisdom that I

have been able to start the journey to healing. So it is to her, the

healer who walks after the great Healer, that this book is dedicated.

May we all heal.