I stayed

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My BPD

About 12 years ago I was diagnosed as having Borderline Personality Disorder and FINALLY some things started making sense. Things like why I have such a hard time letting go of people and/or relationships, my random mood swings and how I could not control my emotions (especially anger), how felt that everybody eventually leaves me, the way I push the people that care about away then try and convince them to come back (like I’m testing them) as well as the self-harm and risky behaviors.

My psychiatrist diagnosed me with BPD after a very serious suicide attempt. And he basically told me there was nothing more he felt he could do at that point because I was becoming a statistic with my suicidal ideations. About 70% of those diagnosed attempt suicide. Somewhere around 10% succeed because of it. He said he thought I’d fall in to that 10%.

It really hurt. My own doctor giving up on me and walking away right when I could finally put reasons why I behaved and reacted the way I did?!?! But, like I said, everyone leaves me.

Its frustrating (not to mention damaging) the way my moods and reactions are so out of control. When something comes to an end it’s as if I just can’t accept it. I won’t. I seem to feel things so much more intensely then others probably why I hold on when most females would tell their partner to “fuck off”!

Which is probably how I end up in these abusive relationships. I never feel I’m good enough. Never have. And so settling for being treated like trash is pretty much what I’m used to- the norm. Maybe that’s why I fell for David’s love-bombing so hard and fast.

For the first time he made me feel not just wanted but NEEDED. He made me believe I was valued , special, cherished. I think that’s why it hurt so bad. I believed in him and trusted him to love me and be honest. To be the man he promised to be.

Instead I ended up right back where I started- questioning my worth and just wanting the pain to go away. I could only numb it so much when I got high.

The first discard, which was totally unexpected to me was devastating. I lost it. I begged. I pleaded. I threw fits. I hurt him. I couldn’t let it go and ended up once again in the ICU where it was touch and go. I was so hurt to find out later he basically bragged about me trying to kill myself over him.

It wasn’t necessarily over HIM but at everything I’d gone through.. all the rejection and never being good enough. I felt completely abandoned.

And unfortunately, my first reactive thought to anything (and I mean literally ANYTHING) is wanting to die. I just play it out and feel hopeless. And when I started writing this blog that’s exactly where I was at. I was determined to end it all because I’m so tired of hurting and struggling everyday. It seemed logical because I hated myself so much.

Hated the way I acted and the way I thought about things. Hated the kind of daughter, sister, friend and mother I was. Felt like I failed at everything and nothing seemed to give me joy anymore. Seemed like I’d always be alone and I wasn’t even worthy of some heartless, cruel narcisst’s love. But that all changed.

Learning that my relationship with David fit the pattern of narcisstic abuse finally let me make sense of things. Because it hurt way too bad to accept that he just stopped loving me and that I was so easily replaceable. But now, understanding he never loved me.. wasn’t capable of loving me as well as knowing it wasn’t ME personally because it’s his pattern to use and hurt women has helped to begin to let go.

I fought my BPD so I could stop hanging on because reality is there’s nothing to hang on to. There never was. In some weird way that makes it easier. I still struggle daily with my first thought is wanting to die when something goes bad and have to take it day by day and moment by moment. And instead of feeling like he rejected and abandoned me I think of it as God did for me what I couldn’t do for myself.

Sometime I just have to make myself focus on the fact that my behaviors aren’t mine but my BPD. I constantly remind myself that feelings are not facts. And I’m proof that time will heal. Yes he destroyed a lot of me but he doesn’t get to win and neither does my Borderline Personality.

His Voice

I heard his voice yesterday when he called. It made my mind flood with memories. They started out as what I used to consider to be ‘good’ and for a second I even missed him.

I missed hearing him call me “baby” and saying “I love you”. It made me me miss his cute giggle and I could picture him smirking… That crooked smile that got me every time. I missed hearing the excitement in his voice when he talked about God… the sadness in his voice when he talked about his childhood and the love talking about growing old together.

But reality set in REAL FAST. And I asked myself what it was I thought I actually missed.. the way he called me a whore? The way he screamed everything at me? The way he told me to do the world a favor and kill myself? The way he told me I was worthless and unlovable?

Or was it that I missed being put-down? Made to feel ugly and gross? Made to feel I wasn’t good enough??? Even stupid…? Or the way he’d shame me with his words, accusations and lies?

Sometimes, I didn’t even have to hear his voice because his actions said it all.

And sometimes all I had to do was look in his eyes to see the distaste and contempt he had for me.

Was I missing the way he bragged about past escapades? Or the way he constantly reminded me other females hit on him and wanted him? Did I miss the way he’d yell “I hate you”?

I finally knew without a doubt that I really didn’t miss him at all.

I don’t miss being used, humiliated, scared, worried, belittled, hit, kicked, slapped, tormented or any of the other things he subjected me to. I don’t miss begging for his attention, being hurt and wondering where he’d gone. I don’t miss hoping things would go back to when I believed and trusted in him.

I do miss being loved, cherished, respected and valued. I miss being hugged and kissed and reaching out and feeling my partner next to me. And I miss miss having a best friend and a lover… Someone who is always there for me- someone I trust and admire.

But his voice didn’t bring those kind of memories back.

Because I don’t miss him.

I miss the man I waited for h to be, the one he fooled me into thinking he was.

I miss an illusion.

That’s all his voice really made me miss.

My Truths

My truths are many when it comes to the so-called “relationship” I had with my narc. I know I always did the next right thing. I wasn’t perfect but I never knowingly or intentionally hurt him. I know I didn’t lie to him. And I know I didn’t cheat on him either.

Not once did I stop believing in him, betray him in any way or stop loving him (until now). I tried my best to be supportive and make him feel secure. I tried so hard to make him believe in the love I had for him. I changed in a lot of ways to be his ‘ideal’ woman that I thought he wanted.

I stayed by his side because we took vows before God and promised to love, honor and cherish each other. I know I did my part but it wasn’t reciprocated. I know I stayed faithful and honored him. I loved him until I couldn’t anymore. And I cherished what I could by holding on to the beginning- when he made me fall in love with him. And I kept loving him regardless of him tormenting me with his paranoia and delusional rages… Regardless of the abuse… Regardless of my fears… Regardless of the red flags… Regardless of him sleeping with my friend… Regardless of the shame, guilt and humiliation… I loved him REGARDLESS.

My truth is I allowed this to happen to me. I paved the way for him treat me the way he did because I made it okay to control almost everything about me, okay for him to disrespect me, okay for him to be abusive towards me. I even made it okay for him to lie and cheat on me because I always ignored it or kept quiet by looking the other way.

My truth is that I was already broken when he came into life. I’d only been one day out of the hospital after a serious attempts to take my life. I’d just lost my son to his father because THAT verbally and emontionally abusive relationship came to an end and I was still shaken up by HIS cheating on me and I planned to “finish what I started” until David showed up.

My truth is I fed David all the ammunition he needed to become the man of my dreams. I told him everything I felt my previous relationships lacked and what I wanted in a man.  I shared way to much too soon. I mistook the way he pretended to care and understand me and things I’d been through when he was just really looking for ways in. I fell for all the ways he identified with me. And my heart broke at his tales of the abuse he went through that was similar to mine.

The truth is I was gullible.

The truth is I stayed too long.

The truth is I fell too hard.

The truth is I loved too deeply.

The truth is I believed naively.

The trutht is I wanted to be loved so desperately.

The truth is I needed someone to understand me.

The truth is I loved an illusion.

The truth is it’s time to let go because MY TRUTH is I no longer love him so there’s nothing to hold on to anymore.

His Projection

He had always accused me of cheating. Basically since day one. He laid down the rules about the things he considered cheating (besides the obvious like sex, kissing and touching or anything physical and/or emotional) and so he said going over to another guy’s house, texting another guy, even just talking to another guy was cheating- so we agreed on what we wouldn’t do. Of course, being the hypocrite he was, I soon learned that the “rules” did not apply to him.

He threw up some red flags when he came barging in one night screaming “where is he” and began looking frantically in closets and under the bed and in the shower. I remember thinking he was paranoid. It was only a sign of what was to come. Unfortunately, I ignored those red flags and felt sorry that his exes must have really hurt him for him to act that way.

I also saw some text messages he’d sent to a few of his good friends saying “I think my girl is cheating on me” even though there was NOTHING to substanciate it. When I confronted him he never did have anything to say even when I explained it was making me look bad and it upset me. Little did I know he had begun his smear campaign. And it was just the beginning of the accusations and ruining my reputation.

Soon, he was always accusing me. 24/7. With everyone! His friends, neighbors, my exes, everyone on my friends list, even every homeless guy on the streets! Said I snuck them in when he was sleeping or showering or even just using the bathroom! Said I was giving blow jobs out the window. There was no common sense used in his accusations.

He said people talked about me and he tried to make me believe that people had ‘warned’ him about me (mostly people that I didn’t know and didn’t know me at all,but a few that I did know and it really hurt me) saying I was a slut and prostituted myself! I was upset and humiliated. Eventually I didn’t want to go anywhere or have anyone over because I was angry and embarrassed.

He put up cameras that would stream right to his phone- so he could ‘prove’ that I was cheating on him as well as sneaking guys in. The cameras were all over the house. Even in the bathroom and shower! And he would stay up all hours of the night started watching his recordings (of NOTHING) often waking me up because he’d “found something”
(it was always just me by myself) and he would often wake me up super early to start screaming his accusations at me and it would last all day and all night until I begged him to let me sleep then I usually ended up crying myself to sleep or passing out from exhaustion.

Gone were the days he called me “baby”. All he called me now was whore or slut or any other derogatory name he thought of. He talked about me like that to everyone.

He then started not letting me leave the house so I wouldn’t do any of the so-called cheating. Then he started screwing all the windows, the door and slider shut from the inside (There were over 79 screws in the front door’s frame!) and he would hide the drill bits so I couldn’t get out. He said it would prevent me from f*cking every guy around.

It got crazy and he wouldn’t listen to anyone that tried talking to him. I wasn’t allowed to make eye contanct with guys and God forbid if I was ever just being polite and smiled and/or said “hi”. If one of his friends came over I was not supposed to look at them at all. If I did, I’d get the evil eye as he slowly would shake his head and I knew was in for it.

Then here was the craziness with my social media. To help make him feel more secure I deleted all males unless I knew them really well. Often times I would find out he had blocked guys without telling or asking me. He also had a habit (which totally embarrassed me) of sending lame messages to other guys (his friends, my friends and even strangers) accusing them of being with me and telling them to stay away.

His acccusations were really pissing people off and he was also offending his friends (and me). I made excuses for his insecurity and explained I thought it was something mental. I even made him go to the crisis center at mental health but he wasn’t honest and would let me talk to them and charmed his way into making them believe it was me and not him who was crazy.

All the constant accusations wore me out and definitely broke me down. There were a few nights I just begged him to please not bring it up and the times he agreed, things were great- just like in the beginning. But the reality was that he had become increasingly paranoid and very abusive in every way. I became afraid of him and his rages.

I used to feel so damn bad for him… I really thought he was losing his mind and having some kind of breakdown. It broke my heart watching him fall apart and that’s why the truth hurt me so bad when I found out HE was the one cheating and that he had lied about so many things. When I tried calling him out on his double standards and HIM not following the “rules” he’d just ignore me or start a fight about something else.

And when we were together I would have NEVER thought he’d cheat on me- not with how he accused me of it all the time. But cheaters accuse you of cheating just like liars accuse you of lying. I didn’t realize he was doing both. And not with so many, that’s for sure!

We eventually got kicked out and had nowhere to go but the streets. He only got worse. I reached out to one of the few friends he had left for help after he pulled a knife on someone for letting me charge my phone. I also reached out to his old sponsor to help him because I was sincerely worried about him. He would not listen to anyone. That’s when I’d had enough and told him I was going inpatient to get clean and I hoped he would too.

The truth was I couldn’t take anymore. Not once had I ever cheated or even thought about cheating. My story never changed. I even told him I’d go to my deathbed trying to prove I never cheated on him. I finally realized that even if God himself came down and told him I hadn’t cheated, he’d still believe I had.

I couldn’t take anymore. I was tired of being badgered all the time. Tired of being called a whore. Tired of him not loving me. Tired of being disrespected, ashamed and embarrassed by him.

We both ended up eventually getting clean but that didn’t stop the accusations. He still swore he had all this ‘proof’ with his recordings but yet never proved ANYTHING. So I told him if he kept bringing it up and didn’t let it all go I didn’t want to be with him. He didn’t stop. Ever…

When I started learning about narcissism (after he told me he was diagnosed with it) my heart literally broke into million pieces. But slowly the anger has set in realizing that he had purposely put me through all that turmoil knowing damn well I’d never cheated!!!

The whole situation was some heartless and calculated game to him. He smeared me and devalued me- just broke me completely down. He sucked the life out of me. Stole my spirit. Emptied my soul. Changed me for good by projecting HIS wrong doings onto me. That was a hard fucking pill to swallow!

Soul Rape

“Narcisst abuse doesn’t happen suddenly, it’s insidious, creeping in slowly, until one day you don’t recognize yourself. It is the epitome of domestic violence, a slowly dehumanizing and purposeful rape of the soul.”