Saturday was 12 weeks since the final discard.
I feel like I am 98% healed from
this relationship...there is 2% of me who still wants to hear from him and still hopes one day he will contact me. The 98% wants to smack that 2%
. I recognize that the 2% is my wounded inner child and those wounds run deep, much deeper than Mr. BPD. (Also, my therapist finds it interesting that I am antagonistic toward that part of me)
I am thankful every day that he discarded me the way he did - cut me off and painted me black - because I know I would have kept trying (I am nothing if not tenacious, even if it's to my detriment). And the discards - both the initial semi-discard in February and then the final in July - caused me to take a hard look at myself. I realized I have a lot of my own issues that weren't going to just go away without me addressing them (which was my tactic for 46 years). I needed him to discard me the way he did or I would have literally spent the rest of my life ignoring my own issues and continuing the pattern of dating broken men.
I recognize that nothing I could have ever said or done would have changed the outcome of this, only prolonged the inevitable end, and that he will never change, his own wounds are too deep. In some ways I feel sorry for him - he was raised by a BPD mother (according to him) and his father abandoned them when he was a baby so he had a string of stepfathers who weren't all that great (pretty sure there was abuse, though he never came out and detailed what happened there were enough clues in discussions we had). But in feeling sorry for him, I recognize it very much triggers my own tendency toward codependency in romantic relationships. At one point I tried to convince him how great we are together because we both understand the other's wounds. Two broken people don't make a whole but I was trying
so hard to get the pieces to fit.
I have a confession - I never blocked him on social media. I
did hide him from my feeds so I don't have to see what he posts and I have never once looked at his pages or stories, I know that it would be painful. But some part of me could never bring myself to block him...I suspect that its my subconscious way of leaving the door open if he wants to contact me. I have rarely been posting since I'm trying to wean myself off social media for my own sanity, but lately I have had to post to keep the family updated on my daughter who broke her ankle 7 weeks ago. He "likes" my posts, though he never posts a response. I've noticed my visceral reaction to seeing that he has "liked" a post has been changing. At first I would overthink it, wondering if he meant something by it, my heart would pound and my emotions would surface. Last week, I noticed his "like" and while my heart immediately did a flip-flop, I realized that was it...I didn't wonder about his meaning or even think about it further (until now
). I can't wait for the day when I see a "like" and my body reacts no differently than if my aunt liked the post...I know at that point I will be fully healed.
Also, I've noticed that over the last few weeks, my participation in the forum has been dwindling - I realize that this is because I am healing and am not in constant need of support and this forum has been a huge factor in that. Thank you - to everyone.
