I spent eight years acting as a “heat shield” for my daughter, surviving a relationship that transitioned from “love at first sight” into a high-conflict war zone where BPD dictated my reality and a vehicle was used as a weapon against me. I stayed because I believed in being a protector, but I slowly realized I was just a host for a parasite that isolated me from my brothers, gaslighted my memory, and used my own kindness to build my cage. I’ve been called a “child” and an “abuser” by someone who believes she is the victim of the very trauma she inflicts, all while I sat in the basement just trying to find enough peace to breathe. Tonight, the “numbness” finally broke; I’m listening to “divorced dad rock,” thinking about liquidating my modern world to fund an independent apartment, and finally admitting that you can’t love a woman whose mentally messed up. accusing everyone who loves her of abuse and neglect. i tried for 10 damn years.