Next to a bpd

I caught her up with parental abuse, my parents by my bloody own sister. I intervened, aggressive but not physically violent. Was just on the edge…

“Called my other sister about what happened,” she answered, “I’ve heard it, yes. Just now, but she said that she caught you and you became violent against her,” with the undertone: I believe her… (Sigh!)

Ten years later, that same other sister came for  a visit to tell that the daughter of that parental abuser ran away from home. I am uncle and she thought that I had to know that. “She is so stubborn,” she complained, “has everything her heart desires and but always cross and in the end she runs away from home.”

Me: “Have you ever used your common sense once? The oldest son ran away before age eighteen, to join a family strange to us all when he fell in love. Then you could have said: “Every house is cross,” but not much later, the second went as well. Also at minor age. Still no doubts about the situation? And now that the third has run away, the girl, you still walk around with the idea that she’s just a normal person like any other mother. And yes, all her three kids are crazy and she is a very within norm person. Are you satisfied now?”

She had nothing to say back but still expressing the look in her eyes with full conviction of her own right about that kid running away. As if I dashed her with clever words and not with arguments. Valid or not.

Two months later, father took a flight from Surinam. That same day of landing he came to see me, as he normally did not.

“Son, do not accuse your sister of anything, that child is just a strange thing. Show some understanding, raising children is a difficult matter. You still know how you were when a teen? ”

To be continued…

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