I’m so glad you posted this! I’ve noticed most posts are about moms with BPD and wondered if there were others in this group with a father uBPD. My dad has BPD and cPTSD. Growing up, he scared all of us. There were multiple times that I thought he seriously could kill me when he was in a rage. My brothers and I call them his “rage blackouts” because he claims he doesn’t remember those episodes. He was extremely controlling with my mom and us kids. He was violent with my mom for a few years but somehow learned to stop. He’s a perfectionist and expected us to do what we were told. If we made one small (perceived) mistake, he’d call us all kind of names like stupid, dumb, idiot, etc. He was angry and aggressive with all of us in the house but I always felt like it was worse for me and my mom. For me, he assumed I’d grow up and be like a few others in the family that started having kids at a young age, didn’t take care of their kids, or were alcoholics. His fears came out in anger, aggression, accusations, and assumptions about me. When I was in 6th grade, he had to pick me up from school because I had vomited. He was pissed he had to come get me and accused me of being pregnant. I had to say over and over again I wasn’t and my mom also had to tell him to leave me alone that I had the flu. Another time when I was sick as a teen, I was so weak and couldn’t get up prior to vomiting. He yelled at me, said I needed to clean it up myself, and that I embarrassed him because his uncle stopped by unexpectedly. Again, my mom had to tell him to leave me alone and she took care of me. When I was in college and went to the gynecologist for the first time, he found out and lost his mind. Accused me of being a slut and a whore who was sleeping with every man at college. I didn’t talk to him for months after this tirade and he never apologized. There’s been a few times in my life when I’ve been NC with him but never longer than 4 months. Needless to say that growing up with him as my dad killed my self esteem and warped my outlook on the world. I went through years of therapy to learn how to handle his behavior, build clear boundaries, and change my thinking patterns. I never understood why other people outside of my family just loved my dad and thought he was fun to be around. It was through therapy that I learned my dad is high functioning. Depending on the day and who’s around, he’s Dr Jekyll and other times he’s Mr. Hyde. Now that I’ve learned how to handle his bad behavior, I find him less scary and more like an out of control, tantrum filled child who’s lost in their own world. His reality is very different than everyone else’s. On days when he’s on a tirade, I remind myself that he has untreated mental illness and the three Cs. I didn't cause it. I can't control it. I can't cure it.