Counterwill and
Borderline Personality Disorder
Written by Kathi Stringer
Dear xxx,
I almost missed your post if it wasn’t for nnn's answer. I’m glad that I caught it. It raises some emotions in me as I can relate to what you have gone through. I have read how much your mom has deprived you of a childhood. I have read how she did not provide a good reflection and especially the before the separation-individualization stage when an individual ‘hatches’ to the beginnings of self from the symbiosis of mother. I can painfully relate to your letter. I suppose it still must be painful for you to work as hard as you do trying to resolve this through your work on the lists.
I resolve my pain is a similar way. I read and researched, anything to understand that maybe a new and better experience awaits. That is the force that drives me.
Like you, I heard the term borderline in 1996, but unlike you, when inpatient it was aimed at me because I was so empty I wanted to die. Since that day, I have struggled to understand the dynamics behind it.
You were talking about a counterwill. In all the clinical books I have read, I have never come across that term. When I first saw it in your letter, I was thinking about the antisocial personality that is described so well in a book titled “In the Criminal Mind.” Pretty much born the bad seed and takes hard work to reverse the belief of entitlement.
Then as I read on about the control issues, it became apparent I could really relate to that one. I would like to offer another spin on counterwill and control.
I won’t bore anyone with too many details, but would like to mention a few things about my Dad and circumstances that blew any chance I had for a nurturing childhood that you yourself have longed for.
My Dad was a POW for 30 months and weighed only 78 pounds when the war was over. Mentally unstable, he married my mom, and because of severe abuse, my mom ran away without us when I was only 5. I was the oldest of 4 and took good care of my siblings. There were more beatings, more trauma, more crazy stuff. As a small child at night, I would pretend to be small in my mind to get cuddles and nurturing I missed as a child from my pretend healthy mom. 14 schools, 6 foster homes and 32 different places of living before age 15.
I bet you can relate xxx. This is one such event I witnessed at 7-years-old.
Duepy, that poor kid. A terrified 2-year-old. We looked on in desperation as dad swung the rubber hose against his tender baby flesh. It was almost impossible to see the color of Duepy’s skin through his swollen green, blue and black body.
Again came the hose splitting the baby’s flesh. We begged him to stop. Dad’s face was red as it usually gets when he becomes worked up and out of control. He warned Duepy that he had better learn and stop forgetting how to put his pants on and now Duepy’s biggest lesson was yet to come. We were instructed to build a bond-fire outside and heat water to a boil. “For what?” I asked. Then came the unthinkable answer. Dad planned to pour the scathing water over Duepy as punishment to motivate him to remember to pull up his pants. When the fire was built, I sneaked Duepy into the bathroom and helped him get his pants on. Duepy was shaking. He was so scared. His little eyes pleading for some intervention. Someone to protect him, to hold him, to love him. I tied the best I could calm him so he could show Dad what a ‘big boy’ he was without tears. I knew the tears would just make Dad angrier.
Duepy, a brave, beaten little baby pulled it together and showed Dad what a ‘big-boy’ he was by drying his tears and pointed to his pants – all pulled up. He must have been in so much pain with his swollen skin rubbing against those heavy jeans. For now, Duepy had a reprieve.
As many beatings I have received from my Dad, I don’t think none compared to how he beat Duepy day after day with whatever he laid his hands on. I don’t remember seeing a smile on his face, only a look of fright and confusion. Thinking back, I do not remember Duepy’s skin being free from welts or the shades of green and gray.
At times I wonder what ever happened to Duepy, if he survived his developmental years. I wonder what effect the senseless beatings had on his impressionable mind. I wonder if he was able to secure any healthy attachments of trust. I wonder about Duepy, the baby that never was, only a ‘big-boy’. I wonder….
Back to the counterwill and control. I have the same problem. I won’t chalk it up as a flea that jumped from my Dad. Although I could easily claim that, since when it comes to splitting someone bad, I think my Dad has got to be the heavy weight champion at it. Either he can’t praise the person enough, or they are to be stocked and destroyed. I’ve seen him point guns and fire at people. I have seen him point a gun at the person I love most in the whole world, for to destroy her would destroy me. I’ve seen him go bananas. Seems like my whole life was filled with nutso stuff.
What did all this leave me? Or should I say, what did it not leave me. I am empty, and no sense of self. I have no memories of reflection from mother, of being held and loved. It is that part that is empty.
Counterwill can come from shame. Shame to be seen as anything weak. This is how weakness affected Rachel Reiland in her book, “I’m not suppose to be here.”
“—Don’t you dare call me weak, Padgett! You wanna fight right now, you asshole? You wanna see who would win? I’d kick you in the balls and have your guts ripped right out of your throat before you could even grab your goddamned dick in pain—“
Weakness can give rise to counterwill. To be controlled means to be hurt. Sometimes it is one of the main resistances a treater faces to address the content behind the bpd defense. Counterwill for an abused individual with Borderline Personality Disorder that has chronic emptiness is viewed as protection. This is where the catch-22 comes in. I want help, but I cannot release control, to be exposed to get that help. I could be rejected, cast out and abandoned. To open up and become dependent is viewed as a possible setup for judgment. And not to open up keeps any chance of getting treatment and healing away.
The other thing I can safety say about counterwill, is that as one treater associated with Gabbard et al (APA) said, “I know when I am dealing with an abused child when I feel like abusing her myself.” That is a pretty profound statement. A child in treatment has counterwill and will seek to ‘change places’ to be in control. The abused child is now the parent and abusing the treater as if the treater was the child. Counterwill in this case was a defense formed from child abuse. And many victims of child abuse are individuals with BPD such as myself.
Some parents say the child was not abused. However, in the June 2002 edition of the Psychiatric Annals in an article titled, “The Relationship Between Psychological Trauma and Borderline Personality Disorder” quotes extremely high abuse rates of up to 92%! And states, “Herman and Van der Kolk have interpreted these findings to suggest Borderline Personality Disorder is a ‘complex’ form of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD)”. I guess then, 92% of the time when we talk about individuals with BPD, we are talking about abused kids. It makes perfects sense why an abused person would want to be in a position of control.
So of course the person that has a need to control is immature. They haven’t had a normal childhood (me) to get through the developmental states. Some stages are fixated and stunted. So I’m immature in that way. Lucky me, I can’t give up control to feel love. I can’t give up control to be totally open with my treater. A chance to be judged rejected and cast out.
xxx, when I first got on this list, to maybe help out for insight, it threw me at first and I was taking a lot of it very personal. And it really was hurting me. Whenever I saw generalized terms of Borderline Personality Disorder, I cried inside. Finally it became too much and I left the list. I felt angry toward Randi for even letting such things go on in such generalized terms. I think Randi knew something was up cus she left a message on my answering machine. When I called her back, my voice cracked. I couldn’t hold it together. Damm. I was crying, and felt weak and ashamed for breaking down this way. Know what though? Randi didn’t cast me out, or reject me….she didn’t hang up. She was ‘there’ for me and she ‘listened’. (cry thinking about this) Randi provided a new healing experience for me. I gave up control & counterwill and cried. Me, the Terminator, crying. God bless her, she is a wonderful person.
I am offering that perhaps counterwill in many cases with bpd comes from being a survivor.
xxx, thanks for sharing your views, and your history, you are certainly a survivor too. It helps me understand the dynamics a little better coming from the hurt child inside you. I can relate. It is awful to be a Prisoner of Childhood. Only thing we can do is grieve.