Penelope,

Your post hit me like a ton of bricks and cut me to the core. My daughter moved to her father’s when she was 16 and tried to have nothing to do with me. She entered therapy and told me she had very low self-esteem. I could not understand how a girl who was so beautiful, talented, smart, and loved by so many had low self-esteem. And she blamed me.

I have major depression and was going through a very difficult period the year before she moved. But to lose HER — she was my angel. We never had the violence either physically or verbally that you describe. But at the worst point in my depression, she developed anorexia. I couldn’t cope with what I was supposed to do. I couldn’t keep my own psyche together, much less hers. It wasn’t like I made a choice. I simply couldn’t. I could barely get out of bed. She was hospitalized, then moved to her father’s .

Even today, when we interact, and she has generously attempted to do that, we’ll have what I think is a fairly normal visit, but afterwards she will tell me that I destroy her peace of mind, that she never feels good enough when she is with me. And yet, I admire HER. I look up to HER. I am always praising her from a place of genuine admiration and love.

I’ve never been diagnosed with borderline. The definition in the DSM V scares the hell out of me. I have major clinical depression — no mania, thank goodness, although my father’s side of the family and one brother are hugely bipolar. But his sister was depressive only, and I take comfort in that. Maybe it’s not so terrible if it’s “just depression.”

I had no relationship with my mother. She was distant, aloof, neglectful of me, and catered to my four brothers. At the age of 13, I heard her tell me she would no longer intercede between my bipolar, violent father and me. I was his “whipping boy,” and she had become afraid of being hurt herself. I was on my own, she said. She wouldn’t, couldn’t protect me. Did your mother grow up in a family where she had no relationship with her mother either?

As much as I hated reading your post, thank you for writing it. It gave me some much-needed insight into my daughter’s experience that she will probably never share with me. I know you don’t want pity, and you have shown yourself to be so strong, but I just want to say, “You poor thing.”

God bless you,

Sharon