Technology

I hope you end up liking the new place.

My ex is dead and can’t defend herself, so I find it harder to be critical of her these days, but reality is reality.

She had borderline personality disorder. When she was first diagnosed she told me she had it, once she done some reading and had to come face to face with what was going on with her, I was a goddamn liar and she never was diagnosed with that, it was bipolar. Haha. What a ride we all went on.

My poor daughter has been through it. Her mom was hyper critical over everything she done. My kid is a lot to deal with. She’s tough. She’s arrogant. She’s lazy. She’s a teenager, really. She’s a damn good kid though, she doesn’t go out getting into any trouble. She’s creative, brilliant, and all around just a beautiful person. My ex put a magnifying glass over all of her worst traits and just tortured her with it. It was all or nothing. She projected her own insecurities onto her bad. She actually said to me, “I don’t know what’s wrong with the culture today. If I didn’t go to school looking just right, kids bullied me until I fucking got it. If they won’t fucking tell her she’s a slob I will. If they won’t bully her into caring about what she looks like then I fucking will.”

She had been suffering from breast cancer for a year when she said that to me. I tiptoed around her because she already had so much to deal with. I told my daughter, “Honey, your mom is sick and she’s in a lot of pain. She’s going through a lot. Just hang in there.” My daughter said, “I don’t have cancer, but I’m dealing with it too. I can’t sleep for her crying all night. It’s hard to have sympathy or empathy for a bully. It all got to stop for you when you moved out. I couldn’t leave her no matter how bad I wanted to. Imagine she was your mom.”

I cried myself to sleep that night, I’m actually struggling to keep it together just typing it.

I made my mind up. I was going to be sweet about it somehow and talk to my ex. It was, unfortunately, the last time I ever heard her voice.

She called me going off about our daughter and she called her a skank. I tried the nice route, “Listen, I know you’re worried about her but she’s a kid. It’s normal for teenagers to skip a shower or want to dress in a way that makes them stand out.” She just kept yelling and saying nasty things about her and I snapped. I said, “You know, I figured dealing with something as big and heavy as you’re dealing with right now would have humbled you just a little bit. It stops now. You treat her how you want to be treated or we’re going to court. Do you want her to remember you as a monster screaming from her deathbed if you don’t make it?” Her fiancé had been listening in and I didn’t know it. He snapped, “Alright, the phone call ends now!” I pleaded with him, “Bro, listen, she’s my ex. Anything I say is going to come off like some personal attack. Tell her it’s wrong, for the love of god tell her.” He said, “Babe, it’s wrong. It’s gotta stop. You’re breaking her.”

She started crying and the conversation shifted. She listened to me after that. I told her, “With all you’re dealing with, just let me do the parenting. You get to know her and let her get to really know you. Get close to her before you can’t.” For the last two weeks of her life she spent it being sweet to our daughter. She tried to watch all of the Harry Potter movies with her, stopped nagging her and just spent time with her.

I wish I had spoke up sooner. I was just so afraid to make things harder for her. She was literally living in hell. She had no skin from her armpit to her belly. The chemo had her in near constant agony.

Man, my daughter has lived through it.

To go back in time a bit though, before she got sick.

I found out after I caught her cheating that she’d been doing it for years. I’d be her favorite person for awhile and I was god, then she’d hate my guts for awhile and do her thing. It wasn’t uncommon for her to leave me at least once or twice a year, and she was usually running around when she did. I never believed she would. The BPD love bomb really convinces a person that no one on that planet is loved like they are. Once I caught her it opened a floodgate. It wasn’t a secret any more. She knew how I was going to respond so she wasn’t in fear of that any longer. She believed that she could carry on doing it and I’d just keep forgiving her. She even got brazen enough at one point to convince me that she was going to see a band with a close friend (who I later learned was assisting her in her adventures) and had me drive her to the place. She told me they closed at 2 AM and she’d be waiting for me to get her. I showed up to an empty bar with a closed sign, they closed no later than 10PM (brewery in a small town with a stage). She disappeared until around 1-2PM the next day. That was the last time. I moved out and nothing could convince me to go back. The guy she went home with that night is the guy she was with when she died.

He is a great man. He really is. She was lucky he was the one she ran into.

My daughter says she wouldn’t change anything. She feels guilty and she wishes she could have been closer with her mom, but she wouldn’t go back. I love my mom, I can’t imagine having to feel that way. My mom was rough, but she never beat me down emotionally.

I just turned 38 too. I thought I was 39, got some wires crossed. I got a whole extra year haha.