T-minus 3 days

[Family Court Strategies: When Your Partner Has BPD OR NPD Traits.]

Saturday morning, she's finally coming with a moving truck and getting everything. It feels like this has taken so long, even though it's only been 5 weeks.

Despite the intense stress and unhealthy communication during our relationship, these last 5 weeks have been the absolute worst of them. I have learned just how little I truly understood about BPD, but not in the way she had hoped. I have learned that I don't understand her, as she always feared, and despite my best efforts...but not because I failed. It just wasn't ever going to make sense the way she thinks and chooses things and justifies those choices. Part of me knew it and saw those things early on, but I just always chalked it up to everyone having their annoying quirks and doing my best to just accept the person she was.

She's told me so many times now that she "doesn't even know me", and I used to get pulled into arguing with it, but I've come to realize that she's right. She never really knew me. She never really investigated or asked further about things I was interested in if they weren't something she was interested in. She'd listen to stories if we played a structured back-and-forth question game, but even then she'd often tell me that she'd just get overwhelmed after much talking and couldn't process anymore, so it's not like I got much time to properly share things. The contrast in how she sees me compared to the other people who do really know me is startling, and something I'm very thankful for. I can see how hard it must be for people who've been with a BPD partner for so long that they've left behind or lost all of their outside support and friends.

Last night was supposed to be the final day of her coming here to pack things up so that Saturday would be a reasonably fast process. I had foolhardy optimism that after our last conversation prior to her coming being simple and peaceful, that she'd be here, pack, a quick chat about boundaries, and off she goes. Instead, she ran 5 hours later than planned. She did at least text saying she had "things come up", but the lack of specificity makes me dubious.

I helped tape a few boxes for her, and we had some light conversation about some kitchen things as to who wanted certain things. She made about the most thinly veiled attempt at soliciting sexual interest from me that I've seen short of just coming out and asking me for it, and I didn't bite. I was proud of myself in that moment, because normally it's hard for me not to at least say something like "it's not like I wouldn't want to if things weren't so messed up" or whatever, and instead I just felt an immediate sense of "Nah, really not interested".

Eventually she randomly was annoyed with me being in the kitchen so I just peaced out to chill in the other room on my phone. Naturally, the "peace" didn't last long, as she spent the next half hour or so just "thinking out loud" and making whatever mean commentary came to mind within earshot enough of me that she knew exactly what she was doing. I'd love to say I got up and just chilled upstairs until she was done so we didn't have to have any awful interactions, but alas, I've got ways to go in this whole "not engaging" thing. It eventually just turned into her sniping back at me for literally any reaction, words, or sound I made while I did my best to ignore it.

I said something about how I was going to expedite the process Saturday morning by getting all the boxes outside after I woke up, so there wouldn't be like, 5 people coming in and out over and over just to get the boxes from the house and it'd take less time. Hoo boy, tactical error there. She lost it on me immediately, telling me I wasn't going to touch her things, my friend better not touch her things, if she did, she'd beat her senseless, etc. At this point, I'm just doing my best to maintain a simple statement that this is what I'm doing, it's not a discussion we're having, and she decides that calling her father to "have him talk to me" would help.

Her father does his best to be supportive and also tell her in no uncertain terms that if she's going to make violent threats about Saturday, she just needs to not even come along. He also, because he is an adult human with some sense, does not agree to talk to me on the phone so that he can make sure I'm set right. She is unhappy with that, and ends up screaming at the top of her lungs at me a few times after she gets off the phone, so (sensibly, I'd argue) I tell her she needs to leave the house, and that I'm not going to accept her just standing in my kitchen screaming at me. She refuses, tells me she's going to call the police so that she can make sure I don't touch her things.

Listening to her have this phone call with the emergency dispatcher where she says, among other things "no, it's not an emergency, I just had a question", and "I don't like cops, so no I don't really want to talk to one" once it's clear they're going to send someone to make sure things are okay was almost funny, but I think that's also because it was just surreal at this point. Like, who the hell is this person I once looked at with such love and adoration? There's such bitterness and anger in her that I guess I knew and saw but hoped time and being treated with kindness and love would heal.

So yeah, cops come. She talks to them outside. I talk to them inside. The dude is clearly a little annoyed that he's out here, because as he put it "there's no legal issue here" as I wasn't trying to bar her from what is still technically her "residence", and there's been no physical abuse (today, anyway). Basically tells me that he can't make me do anything or tell me what to do, but that if I could give her some space to pack for a bit, maybe that would get things done and over with. I'd worked so hard not to have to involve the police, even when she was threatening her own and my life in various ways, because I didn't want to mess up her life forever if there was another way. And she ends up getting the cops involved because she's mad I was going to move cardboard boxes of stuff to the porch.

I'm glad I know now that there isn't really a logic to this stuff, but even so, my brain just keeps looking for the pattern, the key to make it all make sense and there's just nothing and I kind of give up at this point. I told a few others in relating this story that the one good thing out of this final lovely time together is that she's managed to burn through the remaining bits of my unhealthy compassion for her. I'm just done. I hope that's true, as I know lots of folks struggle to really be done first or second or however many times around. But at least right now, I cannot imagine what path my life would have to take for me to look at her a think "Yeah, let's try this again".

I'm really glad to have found this place to vent. 3 more days and I'm free of her things and any reason to interact or be concerned about how she takes any given decision I make.

[GuyIncognito]

Saturday morning, she's finally coming with a moving truck and getting everything. It feels like this has taken so long, even though it's only been 5 weeks.

Despite the intense stress and unhealthy communication during our relationship, these last 5 weeks have been the absolute worst of them. I have learned just how little I truly understood about BPD, but not in the way she had hoped. I have learned that I don't understand her, as she always feared, and despite my best efforts...but not because I failed. It just wasn't ever going to make sense the way she thinks and chooses things and justifies those choices. Part of me knew it and saw those things early on, but I just always chalked it up to everyone having their annoying quirks and doing my best to just accept the person she was.

She's told me so many times now that she "doesn't even know me", and I used to get pulled into arguing with it, but I've come to realize that she's right. She never really knew me. She never really investigated or asked further about things I was interested in if they weren't something she was interested in. She'd listen to stories if we played a structured back-and-forth question game, but even then she'd often tell me that she'd just get overwhelmed after much talking and couldn't process anymore, so it's not like I got much time to properly share things. The contrast in how she sees me compared to the other people who do really know me is startling, and something I'm very thankful for. I can see how hard it must be for people who've been with a BPD partner for so long that they've left behind or lost all of their outside support and friends.

Last night was supposed to be the final day of her coming here to pack things up so that Saturday would be a reasonably fast process. I had foolhardy optimism that after our last conversation prior to her coming being simple and peaceful, that she'd be here, pack, a quick chat about boundaries, and off she goes. Instead, she ran 5 hours later than planned. She did at least text saying she had "things come up", but the lack of specificity makes me dubious.

I helped tape a few boxes for her, and we had some light conversation about some kitchen things as to who wanted certain things. She made about the most thinly veiled attempt at soliciting sexual interest from me that I've seen short of just coming out and asking me for it, and I didn't bite. I was proud of myself in that moment, because normally it's hard for me not to at least say something like "it's not like I wouldn't want to if things weren't so messed up" or whatever, and instead I just felt an immediate sense of "Nah, really not interested".

Eventually she randomly was annoyed with me being in the kitchen so I just peaced out to chill in the other room on my phone. Naturally, the "peace" didn't last long, as she spent the next half hour or so just "thinking out loud" and making whatever mean commentary came to mind within earshot enough of me that she knew exactly what she was doing. I'd love to say I got up and just chilled upstairs until she was done so we didn't have to have any awful interactions, but alas, I've got ways to go in this whole "not engaging" thing. It eventually just turned into her sniping back at me for literally any reaction, words, or sound I made while I did my best to ignore it.

I said something about how I was going to expedite the process Saturday morning by getting all the boxes outside after I woke up, so there wouldn't be like, 5 people coming in and out over and over just to get the boxes from the house and it'd take less time. Hoo boy, tactical error there. She lost it on me immediately, telling me I wasn't going to touch her things, my friend better not touch her things, if she did, she'd beat her senseless, etc. At this point, I'm just doing my best to maintain a simple statement that this is what I'm doing, it's not a discussion we're having, and she decides that calling her father to "have him talk to me" would help.

Her father does his best to be supportive and also tell her in no uncertain terms that if she's going to make violent threats about Saturday, she just needs to not even come along. He also, because he is an adult human with some sense, does not agree to talk to me on the phone so that he can make sure I'm set right. She is unhappy with that, and ends up screaming at the top of her lungs at me a few times after she gets off the phone, so (sensibly, I'd argue) I tell her she needs to leave the house, and that I'm not going to accept her just standing in my kitchen screaming at me. She refuses, tells me she's going to call the police so that she can make sure I don't touch her things.

Listening to her have this phone call with the emergency dispatcher where she says, among other things "no, it's not an emergency, I just had a question", and "I don't like cops, so no I don't really want to talk to one" once it's clear they're going to send someone to make sure things are okay was almost funny, but I think that's also because it was just surreal at this point. Like, who the hell is this person I once looked at with such love and adoration? There's such bitterness and anger in her that I guess I knew and saw but hoped time and being treated with kindness and love would heal.

So yeah, cops come. She talks to them outside. I talk to them inside. The dude is clearly a little annoyed that he's out here, because as he put it "there's no legal issue here" as I wasn't trying to bar her from what is still technically her "residence", and there's been no physical abuse (today, anyway). Basically tells me that he can't make me do anything or tell me what to do, but that if I could give her some space to pack for a bit, maybe that would get things done and over with. I'd worked so hard not to have to involve the police, even when she was threatening her own and my life in various ways, because I didn't want to mess up her life forever if there was another way. And she ends up getting the cops involved because she's mad I was going to move cardboard boxes of stuff to the porch.

I'm glad I know now that there isn't really a logic to this stuff, but even so, my brain just keeps looking for the pattern, the key to make it all make sense and there's just nothing and I kind of give up at this point. I told a few others in relating this story that the one good thing out of this final lovely time together is that she's managed to burn through the remaining bits of my unhealthy compassion for her. I'm just done. I hope that's true, as I know lots of folks struggle to really be done first or second or however many times around. But at least right now, I cannot imagine what path my life would have to take for me to look at her a think "Yeah, let's try this again".

I'm really glad to have found this place to vent. 3 more days and I'm free of her things and any reason to interact or be concerned about how she takes any given decision I make.

[SinisterComplex]

Keep us posted. I just want to see you get through it unscathed to be honest. Good luck to you.

Cheers and best wishes!

-SC-