Found out that I can't post to the BPD site because of work firewalls or something..-only reason I can find. Have been reading them too much and learning a lot from them.

As I posted yesterday, Marc is an interesting person. Hubby did mention that he seemed 'lonely'. And I agree. Makes me wonder. A person doesn't get to that age without having friends without a reason and I am going to be very cautious. Having one problem relationship (hubby) in my life is enough, and as Teri commented on yesterday's post, I don't need to arouse hubby's insecurity.

Something I have read on that website. I was getting concerned that I was BPD. But then reading on the "raising a child with a BPD parent" they were talking about how certain rage situations occured. Now my mother was abusive to me. It became the family "joke" after a long weekend at Cape Cod- let me set this up- We went to the Cape with Aunt, Uncle and Cousin who was 2yrears older than I am. I have very curly hair that when a brush was used on it-would bush up. My mother threatened "If you don't brush your hair right I am going to break this brush over your head!" And she threw it at my head. It hit my scalp and broke. It hurt. Not funny, but everyone laughed. I dare not cry. A couple of weeks later, my mother pulled a stainless steel pan from small white metal cabinet. These pans would get water spots on them and it would look like mini rainbows. My mother insisted it was because I didn't clean them right. (it wasn't dirt but they weren't polished on the inside with dutch cleanser powder to her high standards.) Well the pan had the water spot in it, My mother said "I am going to break this cabinet over your head!" Well this same cousin and family were visiting! And they all laughed. And almost every time they visited they checked the cabinet to see if it had gotten broken over my head yet. And laughed-went on for about 6 months, and they visited almost weekly.

Many years later, I am raising my own daughter and she is fighting me over her hair. I have a hair brush in my hand... I am really upset.... But I make the concious decision not to rage. Not to throw the brush. Not to disrespect my daughter. Yes, I did yell at my kids. I don't know a parent who didn't. But I didn't abuse my kids. I chose not to. So, no, I don't have BPD, but I carry the scars that still can cause me damage. And that hurts. Cause what did I do to deserve that? What does any kid do? Nothing, and nothing I do can ever make it go away for good. It comes back at weird times to haunt me-sometimes very happy times will trigger a how come memory.

Sorry. Didn't mean to go that way with the journal, but I am not undoing it because I needed to get it out.

On another note, we leave on Sept. 3 (hopefully) for IL. Still don't have leave approved. Last night talking to hubby about what happens if leave not approved for me, I told him, he has to go-DGD would be too disappointed. He semi-accused me of talking to my boss about not approving my leave on purpose. WTH? And I said that to him. I had sent him a copy of the email with my leave request. Part of me sort of hopes leave denied, but I really want to see DD etc.

Things calming down somewhat on hubby front-I am calmer-or I try to be. I am learning the behaviors and the changing of "I didn't say that" so I approach things with a "this is what I understood you to say is this what you meant?" Seems to help some. But that is for the other place!!

I was thinking of the choices we make after we "grow up". (or do we ever grow up?) Anyway, I try to remember who I was when I was 19/20-just joining the Army, excited and felt myself to be grown up. No problems, just getting through basic training and extended training, but I was confident in my capabilities! Where did she go? That young woman is no longer visible. I look at myself as a newlywed, I have had a few heartbreaks by now. And I am so happy! I am still wearing a uniform and working, but it is not the main focus anymore. He is. And I am his and all is well in the world. And soon there will be 3. Shall I stay in or get out? It is your choice only says he. But there is only one for me-after much thought and 5 months later I sign to get out. Soon there is another and I am definately wife and mother, but where is me? She is gone. SHE IS GONE.

And now I am trying to find her again. The she that made me, ME.