The end and the beginning.

[Before you can make things better, you have to stop making them worse...]

“Start now. Start where you are. Start with fear. Start with pain. Start with doubt. Start with hands shaking. Start with the voice trembling but start. Start and don’t stop. Start where you are, with what you have. Just... .start.” author unknown

For years I have visited this site, reading and shaking my head in saddened agreement, knowing all too well that I was living your words.  When times were good then I would pretend that you all did not exist... .that BPD did not exist. Afterall, I am the Queen of avoidant behavior.  But today I have to make it real. I have to climb out from under the crushing weight of pretending because I can no longer breathe. I am finally, finally, finally, finally (one for every year I have endured this relationship) going to start... .to acknowledge, to let myself feel, to heal.

Nearly 12 years ago my husband died.  Here one minute and gone the next.  Young, with two children under four, it took all I had not to quit on life.  I spent the next three years avoiding feeling anything at all in the name of grief. Then, by chance, I met a man. After our first date I came home and told by mother that I did not think there would be a second date.  We were together for five years... .I call it my Five Year Learning Experience.  He was addicted to alcohol, diagnosed with bipolar disorder and in the middle of a divorce. It seemed like a good idea. We both knew that our I love you’s were lies but he liked being cared for and I liked being needed. The relationship was over before it started but I didn’t know how to abandon him.  I was depressed and stuck and looking for a way out when I met my (diagnosed) pwBPD.

He looked at me and said I was wicked smart and mad funny and unselfishly kind and naturally beautiful.  I had not heard those things in a very long time and it was like a smooth shot of whisky to my soul... .shocking, hot, addicting, and judgement blurring enough to be convincing. The physical chemistry was undeniable and for the first time in 8 years I felt something other than numb. The euphoria did not last long.  The last four years have been spent walking on eggshells, apologizing for offenses that I didn’t commit and soothing traumas that I didn’t cause.  I am so tired of feeling empty so that someone else does not.  I am so tired of being lied to and made to feel crazy when finally confronting the issue.  I am so tired of planning my life around someone else’s moods.  I am so tired of needing to be needed.  I am so tired.

Today I let go.  I yelled from that primal place deep inside, wounded but still alive. I said, “ No F****** More!” And I meant it. 

Today I start.

[Gargamel]

“Start now. Start where you are. Start with fear. Start with pain. Start with doubt. Start with hands shaking. Start with the voice trembling but start. Start and don’t stop. Start where you are, with what you have. Just... .start.” author unknown

For years I have visited this site, reading and shaking my head in saddened agreement, knowing all too well that I was living your words.  When times were good then I would pretend that you all did not exist... .that BPD did not exist. Afterall, I am the Queen of avoidant behavior.  But today I have to make it real. I have to climb out from under the crushing weight of pretending because I can no longer breathe. I am finally, finally, finally, finally (one for every year I have endured this relationship) going to start... .to acknowledge, to let myself feel, to heal.

Nearly 12 years ago my husband died.  Here one minute and gone the next.  Young, with two children under four, it took all I had not to quit on life.  I spent the next three years avoiding feeling anything at all in the name of grief. Then, by chance, I met a man. After our first date I came home and told by mother that I did not think there would be a second date.  We were together for five years... .I call it my Five Year Learning Experience.  He was addicted to alcohol, diagnosed with bipolar disorder and in the middle of a divorce. It seemed like a good idea. We both knew that our I love you’s were lies but he liked being cared for and I liked being needed. The relationship was over before it started but I didn’t know how to abandon him.  I was depressed and stuck and looking for a way out when I met my (diagnosed) pwBPD.

He looked at me and said I was wicked smart and mad funny and unselfishly kind and naturally beautiful.  I had not heard those things in a very long time and it was like a smooth shot of whisky to my soul... .shocking, hot, addicting, and judgement blurring enough to be convincing. The physical chemistry was undeniable and for the first time in 8 years I felt something other than numb. The euphoria did not last long.  The last four years have been spent walking on eggshells, apologizing for offenses that I didn’t commit and soothing traumas that I didn’t cause.  I am so tired of feeling empty so that someone else does not.  I am so tired of being lied to and made to feel crazy when finally confronting the issue.  I am so tired of planning my life around someone else’s moods.  I am so tired of needing to be needed.  I am so tired.

Today I let go.  I yelled from that primal place deep inside, wounded but still alive. I said, “ No F****** More!” And I meant it. 

Today I start.

[Mutt]

Hi Gargamel,



That was well said. I'm glad that you decided to join after lurking the boards for a long time. Welcome to the family.

[fromheeltoheal]

Nice Gargamel, I agree with Mutt, very well put.

So now that you've started, what's next?  Where to from here?