BPDFamily.com

The truth is she discarded me. I was used and then replaced when she got tired of me.

She lied and manipulated me. She disrespected me and my feelings. We were never going to be together for the long run, even though I wanted to.

And I know that the long run would mean more pain and heartache and it would slowly dissolve.

By any logical, rational, respectable evaluation, I should be glad I've been let go and move on to someone who wants to be with me in a healthy honest relationship.

This means we will never be friends again. Maybe acquaintances, maybe group friends, but it will never be like the friends we were before and it will never be in a romantic or meaningful relationship like it seemed we were so recently.

That will never happen again.

Between now and the day my heart stops beating it is over.

The idea of that type of finality is breaking me. It feels like someone I love has died and they will never be around again.

Never.

I can't grasp that without feeling like I'm going to go insane from anguish.

It's strange because there have been so many other people in my life that I probably won't ever see again in person, or ever, and I don't even think about them. Many of them I have already forgotten.

But this one person. I feel like if I let them go, I'm letting them go forever. That's the crushingly painful hurdle in front of me.

I guess that's what letting go is. I just don't know how to do that.

Did anyone else feel this way but got past it? How did it happen?

It has been one month for me. I think about my ex BPD every day. The only thing I can offer at this point is that time will help you reflect and let go a little more each day. I now see how I was never able to actually help him. That the fantasy I had of us was just that a fantasy.

I don't know what to say except that yes. Yes, that's exactly it.

I'm almost a year out, and it is better. I think it will be better for you. I can't promise, but I never thought I'd be this far along, even, which is not great but is better than it was.

hey homefree 

i dont know if i can get across the extent to which i feel your pain in all of this. your conceptions of your pain, i particularly relate to. i imagine its hard to see the maturity to what you convey. i dont much expect it to comfort you, right now. you are swallowing an awful lot, awful quickly. you are doing it with grace, but the toll it takes must be tremendous.

reading between the lines, and relating as i think i do, what i hear you communicate is "i am going through utter hell; and i will survive."

we are here to help you get through this homefree, but im also quite confident that you will. hang in there. keep accepting, keep fighting. it often gets worse before it gets better. this stuff really broke me down to what seemed, at the time, like the point of no return. i have the same problems with concepts like "finality" and my mind seemed intent upon dragging up the most painful images, concepts, songs, etc, that it could. the good news is that i emerged, and that kind of pain holds far less power over me today. your light at the end of the tunnel will come. just keep walking, crawling, whatever it takes, and know that you are not alone in your struggle.

Hey homefree,

I understand your pain, your torment and find it realistic because we are all grieving actually and grief has its stages. It really is like losing someone forever, hell, it is losing someone forever and even if they were fantasy, they felt very real for us and we are truly grieving. However, this feeling will not last like this for the rest of your life. It may be healthier to avoid from catastrophising (this pain about the finality may go on forever like this) and think like "at this moment, I'm thinking that I can't handle this loss, this finality forever, tomorrow is another day of recovery for me). I think you are being somehow unfair to yourself when you determine for yourself that this may be the biggest thing you will ever experience and its effects will go on forever the way you are perceiving now. 

You are right in the sense that feelings this strong about finality (something very strong in itself) cannot be handled forever but the truth of nature is we are adaptable creatures and these feelings will diminish even if finality doesn't change. We lose our parents, our very dear friends, our children and still, one day the sun manages to shine.

If you work on your recovery - one day at a time-, open yourself to new experiences where you are validated as a person rather than allowing the past to stunt you, experience real friendship from a partner, stop associating love with the anguish they people seek, one day all these will be gone. It may not feel very natural at first, maybe practising gratefulness for the good things we have, consciously choosing to notice them rather than focusing on the past helps.

Stay strong,

Thank you!

It's crazy how this thing works, because I had just an awful day yesterday, but today I actually feel better than I think I have in all of NC. It does make sense to me that things will change, and that I just need to get through it without doing to much damage to myself. I will view it with perspective over time, and maybe after having a healthy relationship and continue to work on myself, I will look at it as something I'm truly glad I was able to get away from and past.

I don't think I've really processed the real pain I've carried with me for a lot of years, and I think this all is tremendously healthy for me, even though it's incredibly painful at times. I need to accept that I'm dealing with a lot of things in a short amount of time, and there is only so much I can do about it. But I am dealing with it. It's easy to feel optimistic when I'm up like this, and hopeless when I'm down. I just need to really appreciate that what I'm going through is a healthy reaction to all deep baggage and recent heartache I'm working through. Healing is painful. Growing takes work and time. But it happens. I just need to keep moving forward, no matter how slowly.

This board has been a tremendous help on many levels.

In a sense it is a lot like mourning a death. You are mourning and grieving the death of the relationship. Also, I am not out and I am still plugging along but it helps me to know that I am indeed grieving a death. I am grieving the fact that the person that I thought my husband was does not exist.

My dreams of us growing old together died.

My idea of who I thought he was is dead.

The magical thinking that I used to use to convince myself to do things to save the relationship is slowly fading away. In its place, there is a lot of despair and sadness and grieving. It takes time. All of my support people keep reminding me to be gentle with myself.