Mod Note: this thread started as part of another thread located here:
https://bpdfamily.com/message_board/index.php?topic=345028.0 and was split off as it warrants it own discussion.Hello. This is my absolute first time on any website related to BPD. It's the thing that absolutely cannot be spoken of. Absolutely no pathologizing, unless she is the one doing it. Honestly...I have no idea what to write. Reality? I have likely thousands of pages of daily journal entries. Made to attempt to test my own sanity.
So, today was my last PT visit...Physical Therapy. Yeah...long story. But basically while my sweet girl was in a thorough fit of rage, the kind where you can practically see the fire shooting out of their very aura...She happened to slam my right middle finger in our exterior metal door so hard it nearly severed 80% of the tip...today was my last PT visit, with awesome insurance. After all, it happened four months ago. But hey, I nearly have a completely new nail. Granted, there is a side missing from my finger for the rest of my life, and I have maybe only 25% feeling on the side completely severed, it's all good. Somehow, I can just put that away. How about her stream of injuries. Many self inflicted. There was the time she had a plant pot cocked back in her hands ready to throw at my face, with a slider between us. I freaked out (that would have seriously hurt). I closed the slider...not looking down to see her fingers were in it. Fortunately, low speed, nothing broken, a few bruises...but still out there. I think that was the night she peed in the brand new salad calender I bought her to replace the one she destroyed in a rage, and in front of my roommate. It never got used...She broke it to pieces anyway a week later. Digression is a simple fact of the depression I feel. I used to love a scary movie. Now, I start them, so many interruptions...I cannot remember the last movie I watched all the way through. Even worse, I don't even care to anymore. I love her so much, I can see what I glorious future we could have...if just not for the dark side...I just don't even know what to call it. But it has eviserated me so many times in the last 18 months, I feel empty. Play a game, not exciting. When she moved in a week after we met (literally, we never spent a night apart) I had two big TV's in my livingroom. I had a super cool pad. Smart lighting everywhere. I worked hard for what I have. I love the color everywhere. It makes me happy. It hurt to have my house ripped down so badly, that I could no longer feel it was a place I wanted to take care of...She ripped, smashed. Thousands of dollars of my hard earned things, destroyed without a thought. Xbox one X...bricked. $300 fountain? Smashed and thrown in the front porch. That is just stuff...but it is stuff I worked many hard hours for. I do well for myself, am self-sufficient. $300 harmony elite remote. Countless smart bulbs. Two days ago my $250 brand new 9' x 9' patio canopy. She destroyed the metal and left it out in front of our townhouse...in front of my neighbors...why? Because she demanded I let her out of the car...on the way to our first couple's counselor's appointment in person. I fumbled with my GPS and it plotted me to the center of a town, instead of the address...I was in some random neighborhood lost, but the counselor was less than a mile away. To back up a bit, she had the right-hand front door wide open with her seatbelt off screaming at me while I was desperately trying to close the last few miles after a one hour trip from a friend's RV camp...I left her there, later realizing she didn't have her phone...and now, I am the absolutely horrible person that left her there, texted her the address (a mile away), asked her to get an uber (which I set up on her phone for her), and was freaking out...through MAJOR intersections her door was wide open while she was raging at me to let her out. You might ask why? Well, she has a drinking problem. One that after 18 months is finally in the spotlight...So things are now rather hectic. She had consumed about 1.25 liters of vodka from about 7:30pm to the following 4pm. By herself...somehow she could walk a straight line, talk...but I realized after we left...she was not all there...she talked straight for an entire hour...I stayed silent, praying we could get to the counselor before she reached her own exploded conclusion that...wait...she realized she was going to meet our counselor for the first time in person, and she was completely, thoroughly, almost black out drunk. I, being sober, was just trying to get there...but she got out of the car...dang...this is a story probably told many times. But this story is uniquely mine. I read yours...and feel such a complete layer of empathy. I have never posted anything like this. I am super private. But hey, here I am, just saying. It is hard. But I love her still with a fierce core...I just wish there was an easy path. You know what? I don't want an easy path. I had chosen a harder path before her, because I am tenacious. I start companies. I create cool stuff. I love my friends. I am loyal to a fault. The rock to my friends, because I want to be there for them, and know they are there for me. I miss all of them...I have to say, I am thankful to finally be in a place where I can say these things, and people can just nod and say yeah. I shed a tear for you, and you for me. We are in this. Whatever our paths are. We love someone that is so hard to understand, and that is at the same time what makes them amazingly beautiful. I apologize...thank you. And take care, protect yourself, take care of yourself.
