BPDFamily.com

Dating someone with BPD is like stepping into a new home for the first time. And, as if the stars have finally aligned for you, this one is it. You’re forever home at last.

The location is perfect. The views, oh the views. How great they are as you admire them from within your pool. Did I mention the jacuzzi? No? And the bank! The loan officer gave you such a great interest rate. You're under budget. How great!

The landscaping is excellent. There are no annoying neighbors. Just far enough away from the city to avoid the hustle-and-bustle, but just close enough to shop with a convenient commute. The library and community recreational center are only a half-mile up the road. In fact, there isn't anything to nitpick. It's perfect. Your dream chateau is perfect.

You settle in for the first two months and now, finally, you can relax into your finished home. The furniture is positioned just right. The freshly colored rooms still radiate with the citrusy baking soda liquid you added to the paint. You have your favorite candle burning in the living room in front of the fireplace.

The hardwood floors have been resurfaced and stained a brilliant dark brown. The new appliances glisten in polish. It's an old home with a lot of history, but only its charm remains. Its foundation is strong. Its stability immaculate.

You feel so alive. You feel appreciated, acknowledged, and purposeful. All of your hardships have melted away. Your hardwork and patience has paid off. Finally. Your friends and family are so happy for you. How long have they been with you on this journey to find your home? You can't wait to have them over. You can't wait to show them that their support was meaningful to your success.

You treat yourself to your favorite meal and stroll through the finished house for the first time. It's perfect. You're so happy that everything turned out so great.

Finally, rest. You lie there in your bed, in bliss, as you eagerly imagine how great the memories will be that you create in your new sanctuary.

Your eyes shut. You're fading into dreamland. But, then, you hear a noise from the hallway. Surely it was just Mittens playing with her toys at night as cats typically do. But she's there, next to you, fast asleep.

You stand and peek your head out of the bedroom to see what caused the noise. There, the attic stairs have unhatched from the ceiling. How peculiar. What sort of mysteries await you, you think? What else could your dream home possibility have in store for you?

You creep up the steps when confusion comes about you. In front of you isn't a crawlspace or a room full of boxes and dust. It's a hallway. More perplexing, the hallway is longer than the house itself.

You're dreaming, surely. You begin to walk down the hallway which seems to be endless, and towards the end you see a door. You turn around, and the stairs are no longer in sight. You're lost. You don't know where you are.

It's now you realize that this house holds secrets. Many of which, you fear, could be a lot darker than you had once imagined. But yet you continue. You need to know. You need to continue walking to prove that isn't the case. You press on, your walking turning into a sprint. You have to know that this is all just a nightmare. Finally, you reach the door.

You reach for the doorknob and hear a loud bang from the other side. You step away and begin to hear something from behind the door. Breaths. Scratching. Shaking. And then, you hear it. A voice.

Pleading. Someone is behind the door. Or something pretending to be someone. And they want you to let them out.

Know this. Behind that door is pain. It is hurt. It is devastation and heartbreak. It is reality.

It's the reality that the home you've moved into was merely a projection to lure you in. Just as it was to the owner before you. And before him. And ... before him.

You can turn the doorknob. You can open that door. But don't, please. Turn away now, and start heading back. The path back seems dark and bleak, but it's so much easier to walk it alone than alongside what is hiding behind that door.

Get out while you still can. And, when you escape, never look back. We're here for you.

Easier said than done Brother, but leave, we eventually must. Old proverbs were written especially about them- "Everything that glitters is not gold." and "If it seems too good to be true, it probably is." In every home, however humble, there is a window and a door we can escape from, when the pain becomes too much and the walls press us in, slowly squeezing us, until it becomes unbearable, like when a child must leave the womb or die in it. Once outside, there will always be transportation waiting to take you away to another, hopefully more peaceful, home (Maybe not as  beautiful) and people always waiting to help you, who have also lived in a bad-luck house like that. My advice is- do not invest too much in that home and always have a couple of aces in the hole. My fave analogy is about the beautiful statue that crumbles, and inside, is a very nasty little girl, who screams at you and gives you the finger.

It is definitely easier said than done. I had it easy because I was split and painted black hard. I only put the pieces together after the relationship. But I can’t imagine walking out of the relationship, I was too in love.