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It happens often to me during the last period and i wanna move out from here as soon as i can.

In this rooms whe consumed our story... .litteraly "consumed".

The biggest happiness (?),the deepest pain,the biggest pleasures,the scariest fears.

Here everything speaks about her... .and sometimes i really can't stand under this roof anymore.

I can't stand our bed... .the bed where we made love so sweetly,where we whispered promises,where she held me so strongly she almost killed me... .the same bed where she cried all her tears,the same bed where i found her after her unsuccesful attempt,the bed where we passed trough nights of anxiety insomnia... .the same bed from which,without more forces and destroyed,i have not moved when she went up on the roof threatening to jump... .i can't stand this pillow spotted by her make up and tears.

In this room there is us... .laughing,screaming,singing,crieng,jocking,begging,dancing,acting,loving... .deceiving.

The bathroom... .with the shower where we used to play and the roof always been too low for her,she beated her head continuously,my "giantess" like i used to call her... .the bathroom where she locked herself to injure her legs and arms with me prayng her to stop on the other side of the door... .i can still easily see traces of her blood between the tiles,on the floor.

This room reminds me all those thing's i've done and said... .and undone and unsaid.

If there is some kind of "energy" in the world this place is full of it... .and i'm mostly sure it isn't positive at all.

Sorry for this,i'm fine more or less... .just needed to share.

Totally understandable. My stbx wife is in the house with the my replacement. She is attached to that house and this is her third relationship in that house.  With so much ugliness having happened there, I wonder why she still wants to stay there. I would be like you and getting the hell out and putting all these memories behind me. 

I sold the house me and my exUBPDgf stayed in for a short 4 months, It was that bad. I might be a little extreme, I don't even like having clothes I remember wearing when I was with her.

I read an article about familiar surroundings... .the gist of it had to deal with getting over it faster. Whoever is in the old environment takes longer to "get over it". Now I'm assuming the author wasnt figuring mental illness into his equation. It seems to me the pwBPD that I was with was "over it" long before we actually split up. After we split she said "it was doomed from the git go". That statement, to me, is just her acknowledging her illness. I have lost track of her. For a couple months after the split I was in so much shock and denial that I wasn't well enough to leave it alone. During that time I noticed even more shocking truths about her. She wore all if the gifts and jewelry that I gave her. That to me would be too much reminder. I gave her a nice watch. She said"everyone loves the watch you gave me". Sick. She was still wearing the earrings that I gave her. She was practically married to the next host. Sick.

Also in the article it talked about reclaims your right to be anywhere you choose. This was the logical thing for me. Face my memories and act not upon them. It would be difficult for me to avoid the places we went together because we went everywhere. My home has a certain amount of nostalgia. It's my home though... Not hers. I claim the right to be in my own home with out fear, obligation, or guilt.

Honestly, I'd be scared to live alone with my ex again. After living in peace and safety for 4 months, I couldn't go back to her chaos. 

Yes,it's definitely quiet now... .but it's like to live with a ghost... .and his shadows... .since i'm not forced to stay here i'm just planning to move soon... .and i'm tired of my little village too... .there's no social life... .well,there's properly nothing here,it's a s**t... .i'm planning to move in a big city.

Events,concerts,new people,clubs,whatever... .i'm really in need.

Yes

'Like living with a ghost'

I moved out after a month. She seemed to leave her stinkiness on everything. I didn't want her to know where I lived or where I worked. I unhappily burnt, broke and through away anything that had a connection.

I destroyed all her 'sexy' clothes and kept 1 ashtray she had... .

From the Amsterdam red light district... .ha.

For me? New haircut, clothes, body shape, self care, awareness, job, home, self love, attitude, forgiveness.

For her same chaos making, different actors.

She never was very creative. Same old merry-go-round.

Seems like I was in a horror story now, an inability to love story, a bad porno, tales of the unexpected, psycho.

The bad old days, she is sleeping her way to the bottom