Boundary Problems:
I am compliant, especially at work. I have a hard time saying no when asked to do something, even if I know I cannot do it.
I am also avoidant to some extent. I tend to shy away from other people helping me.
I am also a manipulative controller. Sometimes I give love to get love and get angry when it is not returned.

Phases of Boundary Development:
Bonding phase:
I never felt secure attachment with Mom. I believe I was fed and changed, but not cuddled or held often. If Mom was depressed when I was an infant, she was probably doing just enough to get by. I have been told I slept all the time, around 20-22 hours per day. However, I believe I received enough attention from my grandparents to help me be somewhat secure.
Separation and individuation phase:
I have been told I was a happy toddler without too many tantrums. I talked early and have heard myself on a recording at age 2.5 sounding as if I was 5. I was also learning to read at the same time. I don't know if my advanced verbal and reading skills had anything to do with my issues or how my parents treated me. My other milestones were normal.
1. Hatching
I don't know if Mom was saddened or okay with me exploring the world. I know she was afraid something would happen to me because she said I was a gregarious child who trusted everyone. Mom was very shy.
2. Practicing
I don't know how much I was encouraged to explore. Considering Mom's tendency to be overprotective and depressed, I don't know if she took much delight in my attempts to explore. My grandparents probably encouraged it, though.
Rapproachment phase:
I was told I was "fearless" until the day I started school, so I was not anxious at this age. I did not interact with other children until school age also, so everything was "mine". I owned it all. Apparently at this age, when told to clean my playroom by Mom, I replied, "No, that's your job." I did not know the word no from other people. Whatever I wanted materially, if I asked, I received. That's why I had two closets full of clothes, two rooms of my very own full of toys.

Boundary Injuries:
Withdrawal:
Throughout childhood and adolescence, I would experience withdrawal from Mom and teachers when I misbehaved. At school, we were TOLD God didn't love us and turned away from us when we misbehaved. I was told by Mom and Dad that it hurt them when I misbehaved, so I thought I was responsible for their moods. Because Mom was depressed, I thought it was my fault and tried to do anything to make her feel better, until I became resentful and hid in my room. Since isolation and abandonment occurred so often in my life, I fear it to this day.
Hostility against boundaries:
The #1 reason given when I was told no my Mom or Dad was, "Because I said so." Mom was a "fusser". She liked to yell when things went bad. I was never given choices. All I heard at school was about the angry, vengeful God.
Overcontrol:
I was basically not allowed to do much of anything when I was young. I was never allowed to have friends over. I still don't know why. I could play with a couple of neighborhood kids...at THEIR house. I was probably allowed to attend 3 birthday parties in elementary school. The first time I was allowed to sleep over at a friend's house, I was almost 17. I did stay overnight with friends out of town with the volleyball team, but that was highly chaperoned by the school, so my parents didn't worry so much. I spent WAY more time alone than with other people my age, almost exclusively at school.
Inconsistent limits:
There were other times my parents were lax. I would do something, get grounded for a week, then it would be lifted after three days. I almost never completed a full punishment sequence. Mom was extremely inconsistent in my adolescence because she entered menopause when I was 11. She went crazy. Add crippling anxiety to the depression and a worsening of OCD and NOTHING was ever consistent. Something that might be okay one day would sent her into a screaming crying fit where she'd leave the house for hours the next. I never quite knew what to expect, so I tried to become an expert at reading her moods.
Trauma:
The most traumatic thing that happened to me was entering parochial school at age five. This was the first time I had to interact with other children and I quickly learned I was bad, different, and not the princess. I was bad because our Bible verses and catechisms taught us that we were sinners. I was different because I already knew how to read...at the sixth grade level. I was singled out by the teacher and despite my advanced skills, was criticized because I used my finger to guide me. I also still sucked my thumb and the teacher tried to embarrass it out of me. There were 30 of us in my kindergarten class with one teacher and no assistant, so I certainly wasn't the princess.