It was one I gave him, a nice sweater in colors he likes and ones I love. I smiled every time I saw it on him.
Today, I rolled it up and squished it inside the Goodwill bag along with clothes too small for the kids, a black-and-pink party dress I probably won't fit into again (and who needs silk polka dots these days?), plus t-shirts I never wore anyway but always seemed to find their way into the wash again and again anyway.
He doesn't need the sweater, and if he did he would have taken it. Taken it on that day last summer when he walked out, thanks-but-no-thanks-for-12-years. Yeah, it was a "mutual" decision, but one I revoked almost immediately but can't seem to take back, even now.
I want him to come home.
I've been hoarding his clothes as they come up. A pair of pants, a favorite t-shirt, a funny one and a sentimental favorite. I keep them in a dresser drawer for when he comes home.
Today, as I fondled the sweater and sniffed it for a nonexistent whiff of him, I realize I can't keep his things holding indefinitely. Sure, I could give them to him on one of those many days when we pass the kids back and forth. But I wanted there to be a reason to come home, and the thought of seeing him in the t-shirt, clad in the sweater, just seem too much.
So I sort through the tangle of our bedroom, I mean my bedroom. I haven't really gotten to the bottom of the layers for months, and as I excavate, he comes up again and again. Today, I got a big bag and started packing his things up to give away. He has replaced what clothes he left, he obviously doesn't want me, I mean these clothes.
Every time I come across one of his shirts, a pair of his pants, I ritualistically bring it to my nose, then put it in the bag.
One of the things in the corner of the bedroom, sitting there since Christmas, is a box full of our ornaments. The lid came off and things are spilling out. I pick up his Christmas stocking, the one that matches mine and the kids, the one that didn't hang on the hearth this year.
I bring it to my face, then put it back in the box. I draw the line right here.
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I hope this comments helps someone if not the author. Her post touched me.
I miss my son. I love him with all my heart and soul — without condition. I want only the best for him! One day many weeks ago now…my BPD was acting up and my son was being a typical teenage boy. I haven’t seen him since, and I have barely spoken to him. I will not see him on his upcoming birthday. That hurts so bad… :’( I remember our first Easter morning...I won't see this next one... He is so angry with me. I hurt him in a moment of weakness…BPD was the reason perhaps but not an excuse… He has lost what little respect he had left for me. He doesn’t understand BPD. He doesn’t understand what it has done and continues to do do me.
I spoke with his therapist today...
We, with BPD, cannot forget that we are not the only victims of the insidious disorder. My son is and always be my son…and a victim of this damn personality disorder! My spouse is a victim as well but a willing victim. I thank God every day that this person, who (despite the most earnest and repeated attempts) cannot possibly understand what I endure, shares in my suffering (to the extent possible) and in my attempt to put this thing into remission…and doesn’t leave me!
Let us not forget those close to us who are also victims of this ensnaring saboteur. Not only family! I have friends (some dear to me) I have barely spoken to and go so far as to even avoid. I have lost my job and contact with both my co-workers and those whom I tried so diligently to best serve in my role while employed. Many good people have been or still are unknowing victims of borderline personality disorder.
My first responsibility is to myself and getting myself functional again — hopefully my BPD will go into remission (I understand it will never go away entirely…). Next, I need to make amends and strengthen family bonds. And I need to work on both at the same time! But let me encourage you to see, as I am now seeing, the enemy (BPD) destroys relationships and does not discriminate. I don’t want to be an unwitting ally!
Do everything you can to avoid casualties. Work with and do what your treatment team develops for you. If you are not active in treatment, get that way! Find what works, and stick with it. Deviate when necessary, but don’t quit! Take care of yourself so as to help take care of those around you who care about you.
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