At the end of an abusive upbringing lies the warped mental faculties of an individual with a personality disorder.
“I met the individual as a young woman seemingly destined for a great life, yet in time, I began to know a person alien, and nearly unsalvageable. She exhibited behaviors of extreme narcissism, as though she were the only one she could ever find that would truly love herself, fend for herself. In the only relationship that ever managed to materialize for her, she combined a vivid feeling of inferiority with intermittent acts of frenzy that revealed something inherently chaotic going on beneath the surface; she barely knew her partner, and she barely trusted him. Both of these behaviors were difficult to discern at first, but became more glaring in the face of deep periods of depression encompassing days and days at time; talking with her was like talking to a zombie during these. When the snap came, all it took was a small misuse of words to send her into an insensitivity spree revealing the likes of a person who’s heart could have been as cold as ice. As though separated within, she appeared as though she could not figure herself out–who she was, yet after the inevitable break up, she put up a wall of distrust so high that to look up at it would be to look up at the sun staring in your eyes. Complimenting herself seemed a task inherently too much to ask. She couldn’t find courage until she felt the need to defend herself, and then the gloves went on and the glass was flying. Unfortunately, when her natural instincts told her she needed something as fundamental as a hug to alleviate the gnawing and immense emotional discomfort, her antics turned to superficiality, where notions of integrity had clearly been traded for generic exhibition in the hope of instant relief. In time her behaviors led to an emotional collapse stemming from a bout with isolation, where the culminating compression of factors ignited a psychotic episode; the poor girl was found grinding small staples into her wrist producing enough lacerations to create a pool of blood, yet the brute and hardcore selfishness she possessed innately forbade her from actually committing suicide.”
The preceding fictional representation is a woven, rhetorical tapestry of real life cases of Borderline Personality Disorder. Disheartening, even mystifying, each non-fictitious detail is a resulting branch growing from the planted roots of parental neglect and abuse.
While common knowledge should tell us once an adult becomes an adult, the problems they suffer are theirs to deal with, yet cannot the world not lessen the cause of debilitating mental conditions by responsibly loving a child?