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Our last anniversary together was extremely unpleasant and seems to be the only memory i have left of any of them. This weekend will be 17 years (separated for 2) and its approach makes me feel sick.

I struggle to read posts on this site, even the lessons though some days I push myself. I feel like im right back there, I get the anxiety, the sick feeling in my gut even though im sure it helps me to some level.

The loneliness is crushing but the thought of moving on is terrifying. What are the odds of hooking up with another BP? Pretty high by the sounds of it. I have children and my own sanity to consider. Im not getting any younger.

There is begging, apologies, demands for marriage counselling, wording up the children, rallying friends and family, texting bible verses, sad faces, forced hugs, tears for all to see. I wish he would just disappear, then there's the guilt that come with that.

I have always found journaling depressing though I attacked my notebook this morning:


The darkness presses in all around me

It's as if it's all I have ever known

Somewhere my heart whispers that it's not

But the rest of me says "No! Stay here, its all we know"

I am so lonely

But how can I be when you are here with me?

I love you and you love me

Isn't that what this is?

So I am told, so I am lead to believe

Is it love when the rules outweigh the tenderness?

Is it love when the blame over shadows the compliments?

When everything beautiful is secretly tethered to a heaviness of fear, obligation or guilt?

Are my feelings so unrealistic?

Is my heart so evil to be manufacturing such hurt?

Try harder. Love more. Anticipate better. Listen longer.

Dream less. Try harder. Love more. TRY HARDER!

The sacred well on the pedestal has run dry

My outside is weathered and scared from use

My inside walls are cracked and bleeding

No amount of urgency can self fill now

Yet your bucket continues to be lowered into the darkness

With every revelation of emptiness, the bucket moves faster, harder colder

The rope frays as my blunt knife franticly hacks through

Strand by strand

Finally the bucket falls and lays broken at the bottom

You can't take from me any more

Silence, darkness, emptiness, fear

All familiar, but different

The light streams in but I cant see it

Am I too far down or too afraid to look?

I've forgotten what it looks like, feels like

The gentle warm touch on my skin

Only the trailing claws that inevitably follow remain etched in my memory

I will lay here in the damp darkness

I will count the stars as I heal

Don't climb yet, you'll brush the scabs

Wait until the time is right, when the scabs become scars

The heart takes time to heal


There's my ray of sunshine, here's to the future  *)

hi Phoenix77 

thanks for sharing from your journal. writing and sharing can be pretty therapeutic, no?

anniversaries and holidays can be highly triggering days for most of us. are there some things you can do to treat yourself this weekend?


technically, the odds are pretty low, as BPD effects somewhere between 2-5% of the total population, though there are many with traits who, while theyd be considered "subclinical", still may present those traits within intimate relationships. i think a lot of us can relate to this fear though. the fact is that challenging people are out there and we cant simply avoid them - we have to figure out better ways to navigate and get along, and good boundaries go a long way in that regard.


i can imagine that really pulls on the heart strings. am i correct in assuming that separation was your choice? do you expect more of the same behavior as the anniversary approaches?

I firmly believe that I have had relationships with at least 4 borderlines (or many traits) over the course of my post collegiate life.

The most recent was the worst, the nastiest, the most abusive, manipulative, controlling, rage filled.   She has been officially diagnosed.  She believes she can do whatever she wants and even if it harms someone, all should be forgiven and forgotten.

The irony is she held on to every grievance or slight and never hesitated to throw it back in my face--even years later.

A family member of mine referred to her as a "monster."

So, I know I am susceptible and that is why it is so crucial never to make this mistake again.  The other partners left me relatively intact.  This last relationship practically destroyed me in almost every conceivable way.