I Hate You--Don't Leave Me - Jerold J. Kreisman [52]
The borderline trapped in this dilemma will often break free when he least expects it—when he relaxes, becomes less obsessive and self-demanding, and learns to accept himself. It is no coincidence that the borderline who seeks a healthy love relationship more often finds it when he is least desperate for one and more engaged in self-fulfilling activities. For it is at this point that he is more attractive to others and less pressured to grasp at immediate and unrealistic solutions to loneliness.
The Perennial Victim
The borderline frequently involves himself in predicaments in which he becomes a victim. Neil, for example, perceives himself as a helpless character upon whom others act. The borderline frequently is unaware that his behavior is provocative or dangerous, or that it may in some way invite persecution. The woman who continually chooses men who abuse her is typically unaware of the patterns she is repeating. The borderline’s split view of himself includes a special, entitled part and an angry, unworthy part that masochistically deserves punishment, although he may not be consciously aware of one side or the other. In fact, a pattern of this type of “invited” victimization is often a solid indication of BPD pathology.
Although being a victim is most unpleasant, it can also be a very appealing role. A helpless waif, buffeted by the turbulent seas of an unfair world, is very attractive to some people. A match between the helpless waif and one who feels a strong need to rescue and take care of others satisfies needs for both parties. The borderline finds a “kind stranger” who promises complete and total protection. And the partner fulfills his own desire to feel strong, protective, important, and needed—to be the one to “take her away from all this.”
CASE 3: ANNETTE. Born to a poor black family, Annette lost her father at a very young age when he abandoned the household. A succession of other men briefly occupied the “father” chair in the home. Eventually her mother remarried, but her second husband was also a drinker and carouser. When Annette was about eight, her stepfather began sexually abusing her and her sister. Annette was afraid to tell her mother, who gloried in the family’s finally achieving some financial security. So Annette allowed it to continue—“for her mother’s sake.”
At seventeen, Annette became pregnant and married the baby’s father. She managed to graduate from high school, where her grades were generally good, but other aspects of her life were in turmoil: her husband drank and ran with other women. After a while, he began beating her. She continued to bear more of his children, complaining and enduring—“for the children’s sake.”
After six years and three children, Annette’s husband left her. His departure prompted a kind of anxious relief—the wild ride was finally over, but concerns over what to do next loomed ominously.
Annette and the kids tried to make things work, but she felt constantly overwhelmed. Then she met John, who was about twenty-five years older (he refused to tell her his exact age) and seemed to have a genuine desire to take care of her. He became the good father Annette never had. He encouraged and protected her. He advised her on how to dress and how to talk. After a while, Annette became more self-confident, got a good job, and began enjoying her life. A few months later, John moved in—sort of. He lived with her on weekends but slept away during the week because of work assignments that made it “more convenient to sleep at the office.”
Deep inside, Annette knew John was married, but she never asked. When John became less dependable, stayed away more, and generally became more detached, she held in her anger. On the job, however, this anger surfaced, and