Discarded by a quiet BPD wife; still haunted after almost a year.

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

It’s been almost a year since my ex-wife walked out on me, and I don’t think I’m even close to recovering from the pain of being discarded. Although I understand a lot more about BPD now, and it makes sense to me logically, the whole experience remains emotionally incomprehensible. In a very short span of time, the person I loved, and whom I thought I knew so well, was suddenly replaced by this cold and uncaring monster who not only wanted nothing more to do with me, but who also seemed to have forgotten every good and happy moment we ever shared together.
 
Although my ex-wife was never diagnosed with BPD, I think it’s very likely she has it. While we were together, she was very much the quiet type, mostly internalizing her negative emotions and only occasionally displaying any outward signs of anger or frustration. When she did though, she was erratic and inconsolable. She suffered from chronically low self-esteem, mood swings, impulsivity, difficulty concentrating, and extreme neediness. She often told me she thought she might have ADHD and possibly CPTSD, but we never talked about BPD. I have only come to learn about it recently, and my experience with her matches that of many others on this site, and so while I can’t diagnose her, I have little doubt that she has it.

It began last year when I caught her sending pictures to some guy she claimed to have met online. When I calmly confronted her about it, she left our home, only ever returning briefly to collect her belongings. She floated between friends and coworkers until someone agreed to let her move into their spare room on a semi-permanent basis. I pleaded with her to come back, I said I’d sleep in the second bedroom, and that I’d give her whatever time she needed. I told her I wanted to fix our relationship, and I suggested couples counselling, or that we take a trip together and try and reconnect, but she refused everything. Until I learned about BPD, I just couldn’t understand what was going on; I thought we had a relatively happy marriage, with lots of plans to grow together, and we’d come a long way to have this life. Things felt so good, and her love so certain, and I’d moved thousands of miles to a new country just to be with her. Suddenly, however, she seemed to see our love as an abusive relationship that’d done nothing but make her miserable, and that she was glad to finally be free of. It made no sense, and I was as stunned as I was heartbroken.

After she’d left, the first few times we talked she wouldn’t even look at me. It was like when a kid gets caught doing something they shouldn’t, and they turn away from you and kinda just stare down at the ground. Instead of showing remorse, though, she just kept listing all the ways in which I had been awful to her, how I’d nagged her and hurt her and how she resented me for every fight or disagreement we’d had. It’s as if all the good in our relationship never existed, and the love and joy we experienced together had all but vaporized, leaving only the bad memories behind. We’d certainly had fights before, but I was made to feel like an abuser. Most of our fights were because of how she’d react to me asking her to do basic things like put her dirty clothes in the laundry, or because I’d get frustrated when she’d spend money on takeout and waste half of it. She’d always say she’d do something, but when I went to remind her, she’d break down and scream at me; I realize now maybe I was just triggering her sense of shame. I wish now I’d have just let these things go, but sometimes I felt like I half-parent and half-husband; she’d even yell at me saying “you’re not my dad.” I still blame myself, thinking that maybe she saw it as me trying to control her, but I wasn’t trying to be – I just wanted to look out for us. I wanted us to have a good life together, and I feel that mostly we did, just sometimes I felt I was the only on with my “eyes on the road”, so to speak.

To be honest, for the couple of months before discovering her infidelity, I had already started to feel as if something had changed in our relationship. We had been fighting more, mostly because she was becoming increasingly angry and reactive in ways that she never used to be. Small arguments would quickly turn into a list of all the way she felt that I had wronged her, and she’d react more extremely and inconsolably. I remember her saying things like “I wish I had never have been born”, which were very out of proportion to whatever the argument was. I also remember feeling as if she had lost a lot of empathy for me, and one morning I even started crying because I had this terrible feeling that I’d “lost my wife.” I’m not sure what triggered the changes, but at the time I initially wondered if it could be side effects from the antidepressants. She’d recently started taking them to help her cope with a stressful new job, and I thought the emotional distancing might be a side effect. They were also making her sleep a lot, and I was trying to understand what I saw as inexplicable changes. I later learned she met the new guy around this same time too, so I don’t really know what, if anything, was the real catalyst for my devaluation. Did she cheat because I was already devalued, or did she just find someone else who would validate her, and suddenly I just wasn’t important anymore? I’ll probably never know.

Anyway, for a while I retained hope that it could somehow still work out. She was still sending mixed signals; when she first left, she still wanted to call and even play video games together, which we even did a couple times. I remember when she came over to collect some things, and she told me that she loved me, but that she just “couldn’t be with me” and started crying. She told me that sometimes she just “gets this way” and “doesn’t know how to move past it” and mentioned going through similar with old friends. I wonder now if she was describing her own experience of splitting, without really having a word for it. I remember saying that if we couldn’t figure something out, I’d accept it was over and that’s the end of everything and let her go. She started crying and hyperventilating, gagging to the point I thought she was going to throw up. I had to help her get to the bathroom where she then collapsed on the floor. I held her and told her I loved her, and things would be okay. What else could I do? I’d never seen her in such a state; it was almost like grief. I told her I thought she was a wonderful person, a great wife and I could find a way to forgive her, and I just wanted her to come home. She teared up when I told her, but not wanting to pressure her any further I let her go back to her friend’s house once she was okay to drive.

Nothing changed though, and she began saying she was now the happiest she’d been in years, and that she felt she had lost herself in the relationship and she didn’t want to sacrifice who she was anymore. She still insisted she wasn’t going to be with the new guy, just that he had showed her what she was worth and helped “awaken [her] sexually.” She went on to tell me that she was going to have the life she always dreamed of, and she’ll make a connection with someone that will love me the way she needs, and if she didn’t get that, she’d “wind up having a baby on [her] own.” I remember thinking she’d lost her mind; we’d both settled on not having kids, and we’d always talked about how close we were and how I made her feel incredibly loved. I started to notice possible mirroring behavior too: she’d suddenly developed an interest in college football and started wearing a Wolverine’s hoodie. She’d had no interest in any kind of sport for the decade I’d known her. I ended up asking her a few times if she loved the new guy, and she (tearfully) admitted she did, only to take it back a few days later, telling me that she “just said that so you’d give up trying to fix our marriage.” I still don’t really know the extent of their relationship, or how involved they were, but I think if anything was holding them back it was on his end and not hers. Months later, when I saw her for the last time, I’d ask her if all of this was just because she wanted to be with him. The closest I got to an admission was her saying “not entirely, I just realized there was so much more out there.”

Throughout all of this I was both deeply hurt and incredibly confused; I loved her, and I bought into a future with her so much that I’d left moved to the US just to be with her. I believed we were happy, and my memories of her up until she started to change were almost entirely positive. Even during the “rough period” leading up to finding the messages, I felt confident in our relationship. Indeed, only a week or so before I saw them, she'd given me a card saying how much she loved me and that she wanted to work hard on our marriage, and that she knew we had it in us to make the best life together. Of course, when I brought this up to her during the separation, she told me she’d never actually meant any of it. According to her, she only got it for me since she was walking around the mall after work because she didn’t want to come home and didn’t want me asking questions. This never really made sense; I figured she could have just said she had to stay late at work or a million other excuses I’d never have thought twice about. She even sent me a text that day saying she went to the mall and was “looking for something to brighten [my] day” before coming home with the card; not really something you do when you’re just looking to be out of the house, right? It made me feel I was crazy, and that maybe I really was this terrible awful husband who had just been deluding himself all these years. She seemed so convinced, I had moments where I even doubted my own memories. Even now, I have no idea if that card was real, or if she really just didn't want to come home.

She ended up filing for divorce a month or so after she left. This wasn’t easy for me; I had only recently got approved for my Green Card, and my mother back home had suddenly become sick, her doctors saying there was a good possibility of cancer, meaning I’d have to travel to go care for her, at least temporarily. I hadn’t yet got my US driver’s license so was still dependent on my wife for a lot of things, having only been in the country 18 months. We lived a 20-minute drive from the nearest town, meaning for most of this I’d effectively been marooned in the house. I very much wanted to stay in the US – my life in my home country was not great – but she refused to help me in any way. When I asked to put the divorce on pause, just temporarily, so I could more easily travel back to look after my mother (I’m an only child, and nobody else could really step in) she refused, saying it wasn’t her problem. She knew how unhappy I was in my birth country, but even knowing I’d face immense difficulty returning to the US without a car or fixed address, she was entirely indifferent. She couldn’t have cared less about my situation, my mother’s health, or the position all of this was putting me in. I ended up flying back, primarily to provide care to my mom, but I figured without her help and living far away from everything my only other immediate option might be homelessness. Even though I still have time in which to return, I’ve given up hope she’ll help me do so, or even give me back the stuff I left behind.

I mention all this because this was someone who promised in the most heartfelt and sincere way that she would always have my back, and love and support me “through thick and thin.” I have so many letters and cards she’d sent me over the years we were together that tell me as much. With great irony, one of her complaints after she’d split on me was that I wasn’t as selfless as she was, and maybe she needed to be with someone who was as self-sacrificing as herself, even to strangers. I accept that ultimately, I had ceased to be her responsibility, and my problems were no longer hers, but I never expected her to be so callous and indifferent, especially in such awful circumstances. I honestly believe that if it were a coworker in my exact same situation, she’d have gone to the ends of the earth to help them; she just wouldn’t (or couldn’t) do it for me. When I brought up the countless promises, and the position I was in, all she would say was “I am aware” and that “I should never have given you those assurances.” The most caring, selfless, and empathic person I’d known had suddenly turned into a complete psychopath. I remember as we were driving to the airport, as I was watching the world I knew disappear through the rearview, she put on the radio and started singing along as if it were any other day. I haven’t heard from her since.

The whole experience was deeply traumatizing; I loved her immensely, and even now I still think about her. As much as I have tried to understand BPD, I struggle to come to terms with the way she changed so dramatically, in a way I would never have thought possible. When I look back, I can’t help but think of something she often brought when we were together. She told me that, as a young teenager, she had forgotten to feed her pet rabbits. Overcome with shame upon realizing she’d failed them, she was unable to bring herself to actually go give them food, and so ended up leaving them to starve. She was tortured by this memory, unable to understand her actions or why she did what she did, always saying how she was an awful and disgusting person, and how much she hated herself for it. I suppose that in itself should have been a huge red flag, but she was such a compassionate person and her regret so genuine I chose to ignore it. The point is, though, is that I wonder if I too am just like those rabbits; that she found it somehow easier to cut me loose and crush me than to confront her actions and repair our relationship, as that would force her to live with the shame of what she did. Perhaps too, if she comes to terms with her behavior, she'll come to regret it much in the same way.

Ultimately, I think it’s the lack of answers that haunt me. She said and did so many things in such a short period of time, most of them contradictory, that it’s become impossible to know what’s true and what isn’t. I often wonder if even she knows. Sometimes I think that one day she’ll surely realize the damage she’s done, and the pain she’s caused. After all, how could she not? Yet, it also feels as if the person I knew no longer exists, as if it all took place in some parallel universe. Some days I think about reaching out; even now I hold on to some insane hope we could go back in time and fix things, but for all intents and purposes it seems the woman I married died the day she walked out on me.

[ResilientSoul]

It’s been almost a year since my ex-wife walked out on me, and I don’t think I’m even close to recovering from the pain of being discarded. Although I understand a lot more about BPD now, and it makes sense to me logically, the whole experience remains emotionally incomprehensible. In a very short span of time, the person I loved, and whom I thought I knew so well, was suddenly replaced by this cold and uncaring monster who not only wanted nothing more to do with me, but who also seemed to have forgotten every good and happy moment we ever shared together.
 
Although my ex-wife was never diagnosed with BPD, I think it’s very likely she has it. While we were together, she was very much the quiet type, mostly internalizing her negative emotions and only occasionally displaying any outward signs of anger or frustration. When she did though, she was erratic and inconsolable. She suffered from chronically low self-esteem, mood swings, impulsivity, difficulty concentrating, and extreme neediness. She often told me she thought she might have ADHD and possibly CPTSD, but we never talked about BPD. I have only come to learn about it recently, and my experience with her matches that of many others on this site, and so while I can’t diagnose her, I have little doubt that she has it.

It began last year when I caught her sending pictures to some guy she claimed to have met online. When I calmly confronted her about it, she left our home, only ever returning briefly to collect her belongings. She floated between friends and coworkers until someone agreed to let her move into their spare room on a semi-permanent basis. I pleaded with her to come back, I said I’d sleep in the second bedroom, and that I’d give her whatever time she needed. I told her I wanted to fix our relationship, and I suggested couples counselling, or that we take a trip together and try and reconnect, but she refused everything. Until I learned about BPD, I just couldn’t understand what was going on; I thought we had a relatively happy marriage, with lots of plans to grow together, and we’d come a long way to have this life. Things felt so good, and her love so certain, and I’d moved thousands of miles to a new country just to be with her. Suddenly, however, she seemed to see our love as an abusive relationship that’d done nothing but make her miserable, and that she was glad to finally be free of. It made no sense, and I was as stunned as I was heartbroken.

After she’d left, the first few times we talked she wouldn’t even look at me. It was like when a kid gets caught doing something they shouldn’t, and they turn away from you and kinda just stare down at the ground. Instead of showing remorse, though, she just kept listing all the ways in which I had been awful to her, how I’d nagged her and hurt her and how she resented me for every fight or disagreement we’d had. It’s as if all the good in our relationship never existed, and the love and joy we experienced together had all but vaporized, leaving only the bad memories behind. We’d certainly had fights before, but I was made to feel like an abuser. Most of our fights were because of how she’d react to me asking her to do basic things like put her dirty clothes in the laundry, or because I’d get frustrated when she’d spend money on takeout and waste half of it. She’d always say she’d do something, but when I went to remind her, she’d break down and scream at me; I realize now maybe I was just triggering her sense of shame. I wish now I’d have just let these things go, but sometimes I felt like I half-parent and half-husband; she’d even yell at me saying “you’re not my dad.” I still blame myself, thinking that maybe she saw it as me trying to control her, but I wasn’t trying to be – I just wanted to look out for us. I wanted us to have a good life together, and I feel that mostly we did, just sometimes I felt I was the only on with my “eyes on the road”, so to speak.

To be honest, for the couple of months before discovering her infidelity, I had already started to feel as if something had changed in our relationship. We had been fighting more, mostly because she was becoming increasingly angry and reactive in ways that she never used to be. Small arguments would quickly turn into a list of all the way she felt that I had wronged her, and she’d react more extremely and inconsolably. I remember her saying things like “I wish I had never have been born”, which were very out of proportion to whatever the argument was. I also remember feeling as if she had lost a lot of empathy for me, and one morning I even started crying because I had this terrible feeling that I’d “lost my wife.” I’m not sure what triggered the changes, but at the time I initially wondered if it could be side effects from the antidepressants. She’d recently started taking them to help her cope with a stressful new job, and I thought the emotional distancing might be a side effect. They were also making her sleep a lot, and I was trying to understand what I saw as inexplicable changes. I later learned she met the new guy around this same time too, so I don’t really know what, if anything, was the real catalyst for my devaluation. Did she cheat because I was already devalued, or did she just find someone else who would validate her, and suddenly I just wasn’t important anymore? I’ll probably never know.

Anyway, for a while I retained hope that it could somehow still work out. She was still sending mixed signals; when she first left, she still wanted to call and even play video games together, which we even did a couple times. I remember when she came over to collect some things, and she told me that she loved me, but that she just “couldn’t be with me” and started crying. She told me that sometimes she just “gets this way” and “doesn’t know how to move past it” and mentioned going through similar with old friends. I wonder now if she was describing her own experience of splitting, without really having a word for it. I remember saying that if we couldn’t figure something out, I’d accept it was over and that’s the end of everything and let her go. She started crying and hyperventilating, gagging to the point I thought she was going to throw up. I had to help her get to the bathroom where she then collapsed on the floor. I held her and told her I loved her, and things would be okay. What else could I do? I’d never seen her in such a state; it was almost like grief. I told her I thought she was a wonderful person, a great wife and I could find a way to forgive her, and I just wanted her to come home. She teared up when I told her, but not wanting to pressure her any further I let her go back to her friend’s house once she was okay to drive.

Nothing changed though, and she began saying she was now the happiest she’d been in years, and that she felt she had lost herself in the relationship and she didn’t want to sacrifice who she was anymore. She still insisted she wasn’t going to be with the new guy, just that he had showed her what she was worth and helped “awaken [her] sexually.” She went on to tell me that she was going to have the life she always dreamed of, and she’ll make a connection with someone that will love me the way she needs, and if she didn’t get that, she’d “wind up having a baby on [her] own.” I remember thinking she’d lost her mind; we’d both settled on not having kids, and we’d always talked about how close we were and how I made her feel incredibly loved. I started to notice possible mirroring behavior too: she’d suddenly developed an interest in college football and started wearing a Wolverine’s hoodie. She’d had no interest in any kind of sport for the decade I’d known her. I ended up asking her a few times if she loved the new guy, and she (tearfully) admitted she did, only to take it back a few days later, telling me that she “just said that so you’d give up trying to fix our marriage.” I still don’t really know the extent of their relationship, or how involved they were, but I think if anything was holding them back it was on his end and not hers. Months later, when I saw her for the last time, I’d ask her if all of this was just because she wanted to be with him. The closest I got to an admission was her saying “not entirely, I just realized there was so much more out there.”

Throughout all of this I was both deeply hurt and incredibly confused; I loved her, and I bought into a future with her so much that I’d left moved to the US just to be with her. I believed we were happy, and my memories of her up until she started to change were almost entirely positive. Even during the “rough period” leading up to finding the messages, I felt confident in our relationship. Indeed, only a week or so before I saw them, she'd given me a card saying how much she loved me and that she wanted to work hard on our marriage, and that she knew we had it in us to make the best life together. Of course, when I brought this up to her during the separation, she told me she’d never actually meant any of it. According to her, she only got it for me since she was walking around the mall after work because she didn’t want to come home and didn’t want me asking questions. This never really made sense; I figured she could have just said she had to stay late at work or a million other excuses I’d never have thought twice about. She even sent me a text that day saying she went to the mall and was “looking for something to brighten [my] day” before coming home with the card; not really something you do when you’re just looking to be out of the house, right? It made me feel I was crazy, and that maybe I really was this terrible awful husband who had just been deluding himself all these years. She seemed so convinced, I had moments where I even doubted my own memories. Even now, I have no idea if that card was real, or if she really just didn't want to come home.

She ended up filing for divorce a month or so after she left. This wasn’t easy for me; I had only recently got approved for my Green Card, and my mother back home had suddenly become sick, her doctors saying there was a good possibility of cancer, meaning I’d have to travel to go care for her, at least temporarily. I hadn’t yet got my US driver’s license so was still dependent on my wife for a lot of things, having only been in the country 18 months. We lived a 20-minute drive from the nearest town, meaning for most of this I’d effectively been marooned in the house. I very much wanted to stay in the US – my life in my home country was not great – but she refused to help me in any way. When I asked to put the divorce on pause, just temporarily, so I could more easily travel back to look after my mother (I’m an only child, and nobody else could really step in) she refused, saying it wasn’t her problem. She knew how unhappy I was in my birth country, but even knowing I’d face immense difficulty returning to the US without a car or fixed address, she was entirely indifferent. She couldn’t have cared less about my situation, my mother’s health, or the position all of this was putting me in. I ended up flying back, primarily to provide care to my mom, but I figured without her help and living far away from everything my only other immediate option might be homelessness. Even though I still have time in which to return, I’ve given up hope she’ll help me do so, or even give me back the stuff I left behind.

I mention all this because this was someone who promised in the most heartfelt and sincere way that she would always have my back, and love and support me “through thick and thin.” I have so many letters and cards she’d sent me over the years we were together that tell me as much. With great irony, one of her complaints after she’d split on me was that I wasn’t as selfless as she was, and maybe she needed to be with someone who was as self-sacrificing as herself, even to strangers. I accept that ultimately, I had ceased to be her responsibility, and my problems were no longer hers, but I never expected her to be so callous and indifferent, especially in such awful circumstances. I honestly believe that if it were a coworker in my exact same situation, she’d have gone to the ends of the earth to help them; she just wouldn’t (or couldn’t) do it for me. When I brought up the countless promises, and the position I was in, all she would say was “I am aware” and that “I should never have given you those assurances.” The most caring, selfless, and empathic person I’d known had suddenly turned into a complete psychopath. I remember as we were driving to the airport, as I was watching the world I knew disappear through the rearview, she put on the radio and started singing along as if it were any other day. I haven’t heard from her since.

The whole experience was deeply traumatizing; I loved her immensely, and even now I still think about her. As much as I have tried to understand BPD, I struggle to come to terms with the way she changed so dramatically, in a way I would never have thought possible. When I look back, I can’t help but think of something she often brought when we were together. She told me that, as a young teenager, she had forgotten to feed her pet rabbits. Overcome with shame upon realizing she’d failed them, she was unable to bring herself to actually go give them food, and so ended up leaving them to starve. She was tortured by this memory, unable to understand her actions or why she did what she did, always saying how she was an awful and disgusting person, and how much she hated herself for it. I suppose that in itself should have been a huge red flag, but she was such a compassionate person and her regret so genuine I chose to ignore it. The point is, though, is that I wonder if I too am just like those rabbits; that she found it somehow easier to cut me loose and crush me than to confront her actions and repair our relationship, as that would force her to live with the shame of what she did. Perhaps too, if she comes to terms with her behavior, she'll come to regret it much in the same way.

Ultimately, I think it’s the lack of answers that haunt me. She said and did so many things in such a short period of time, most of them contradictory, that it’s become impossible to know what’s true and what isn’t. I often wonder if even she knows. Sometimes I think that one day she’ll surely realize the damage she’s done, and the pain she’s caused. After all, how could she not? Yet, it also feels as if the person I knew no longer exists, as if it all took place in some parallel universe. Some days I think about reaching out; even now I hold on to some insane hope we could go back in time and fix things, but for all intents and purposes it seems the woman I married died the day she walked out on me.

[schwing]

Hi ResilientSoul and

It’s been almost a year since my ex-wife walked out on me, and I don’t think I’m even close to recovering from the pain of being discarded. Although I understand a lot more about BPD now, and it makes sense to me logically, the whole experience remains emotionally incomprehensible.

Putting this experience past you may be difficult and take some time.  Ideally, if you've never had to deal with BPD before in your family life, then it will "only" be about the grief over the sudden loss of your marriage and the painful abrupt manner in which it occurred; neither of which are small events.  

However, if you are like me, in which case the ending of my first BPD relationship caused me to examine my own upbringing to discover that my parents are personality disordered, then unraveling all that pain will require more effort.  This effort will be worthwhile though as it will spare you from making future choices that might otherwise lead to a similar outcome.

It began last year when I caught her sending pictures to some guy she claimed to have met online. When I calmly confronted her about it, she left our home, only ever returning briefly to collect her belongings.

That's when it began for you.  My understanding of BPD is that for people with BPD (pwBPD) at the core of their issue is an abandonment or betrayal trauma.  Their (unconscious) trauma causes them to perceive (or imagine) the possibility of abandonment (or betrayal) even when their loved one has no such intent.  I believe that for pwBPD, feelings of intimacy can be a trigger for this (imagined) fear of abandonment.  This is an awful catch-22 for pwBPD: the closer they feel towards you, the more they imagine that you will abandon/betray them.

So when you "caught her", she (probably) believed that this inappropriate behavior might be significant enough for you to separate from her; so she did the only thing she could do to avoid this potential abandonment: she abandoned you first.  If a pwBPD abandons (or betrays) first, then they will have avoided being abandoned.

Until I learned about BPD, I just couldn’t understand what was going on; I thought we had a relatively happy marriage, with lots of plans to grow together, and we’d come a long way to have this life. Things felt so good, and her love so certain, and I’d moved thousands of miles to a new country just to be with her. Suddenly, however, she seemed to see our love as an abusive relationship that’d done nothing but make her miserable, and that she was glad to finally be free of. It made no sense, and I was as stunned as I was heartbroken.

Again, this all feels "sudden" to you, but I believe for pwBPD, during the "good" part of the relationship, they quietly deal with their disordered feelings.  At the beginning, they have less of these disordered feelings to deal with, because at the beginning of the relationship, you are still mostly strangers.  There is no real dependency and attachment then -- or at least it is less than what grows in time.  And as their disordered feelings grow, it becomes harder and harder from them to deal with it in ways that they can hide.

It’s as if all the good in our relationship never existed, and the love and joy we experienced together had all but vaporized, leaving only the bad memories behind. We’d certainly had fights before, but I was made to feel like an abuser.

They cannot share with us these disordered feelings, because letting us know might cause us to leave.  But they remember all these occasions.

In their minds, we are the cause of their disordered feelings.  We have to be because the alternative is that they might consider themselves to be damaged, broken people; if they don't devalue us, they devalue themselves.  This is partly due to their black and white thinking ("all good" or "all bad") and partly due to their use of projection as a way to deal with their disordered feelings.

She told me that sometimes she just “gets this way” and “doesn’t know how to move past it” and mentioned going through similar with old friends. I wonder now if she was describing her own experience of splitting, without really having a word for it.  

Clearly she's been through this kind of experience before.  And I imagine because she doesn't know how to do things differently, she will just continue to repeat this cycle.

I remember saying that if we couldn’t figure something out, I’d accept it was over and that’s the end of everything and let her go. She started crying and hyperventilating, gagging to the point I thought she was going to throw up.  

You see, in this instance, what upset her the most was that you'd "let her go," or in her mind, you would "abandon" her.  And in order to avoid this awful event, she needed to abandon you first.

Nothing changed though, and she began saying she was now the happiest she’d been in years, and that she felt she had lost herself in the relationship and she didn’t want to sacrifice who she was anymore.  

As I understand it, pwBPD find respite when they start new relationships.  Just like when she was first with you, things (for her) was good.  Over time they got worse (for her).  And when she found a new relationship, they were good again.  Because with this new relationship, it's too soon to trigger her disordered feelings.  She can idealize this new person without that deep fear of abandonment.  

You can't be "abandoned" by someone you barely know...  Until you get to know them, but that might take years.

I started to notice possible mirroring behavior too: she’d suddenly developed an interest in college football and started wearing a Wolverine’s hoodie. She’d had no interest in any kind of sport for the decade I’d known her.  

Here's the hard part to believe: she's not this new person who is interested in football, etc... but she's also not the person you've known all this time.  PwBPD are sometimes described has having identity issues; my understanding is that pwBPD will change *who* they are depending upon whom they are attached to.  This is a *personality* disorder.  Their personality changes depending upon their most immediate needs.

The most caring, selfless, and empathic person I’d known had suddenly turned into a complete psychopath. I remember as we were driving to the airport, as I was watching the world I knew disappear through the rearview, she put on the radio and started singing along as if it were any other day. I haven’t heard from her since.

I know it is unnerving how quickly pwBPD can detach from a lengthy, significant relationship compared to non-disordered people.  But this is one of their characteristics -- I think the most relevant issue that applies to this behavior is their "lack of object constancy."

The way I see it, is that they can only be attached to one person at a time, and when that is you, you are the world to them; but when it is not you, you are just a distant memory to them.

The whole experience was deeply traumatizing; I loved her immensely, and even now I still think about her. As much as I have tried to understand BPD, I struggle to come to terms with the way she changed so dramatically, in a way I would never have thought possible.

Actually, this traumatizing experience might be of help to understand what goes through the mind of a pwBPD.  

You were more or less betrayed and abandoned by someone you cared for deeply.  And it will take you much time and effort to fully heal from this hurt.  Now, imagine how much harder it would be for you to heal from this pain if you experienced this trauma as a toddler (2-3 years of age).  This kind of trauma might even interrupt your emotional development and cause you to develop dysfunctional behaviors when it comes to how you can relate to other people.

I would argue that this is more or less what happened to pwBPD in their childhood.  And their adult behaviors are but the aftermath of this trauma.

When I look back, I can’t help but think of something she often brought when we were together. She told me that, as a young teenager, she had forgotten to feed her pet rabbits. Overcome with shame upon realizing she’d failed them, she was unable to bring herself to actually go give them food, and so ended up leaving them to starve. She was tortured by this memory, unable to understand her actions or why she did what she did, always saying how she was an awful and disgusting person, and how much she hated herself for it.

She made a simple mistake as a child, she forgot.  Maybe she didn't have guardians/parents who might have otherwise protected her from making this mistake, or help her avoid devaluing herself for making this mistake.  And to this day she has not forgiven herself.  

This is an example of why it is next to impossible for pwBPD to *accept* that they have a disorder that not only causes themselves pain but also to those they would love.  And not being able to accept this of themselves makes it impossible (or very very difficult) to seek help towards recovering from this disorder.

Perhaps too, if she comes to terms with her behavior, she'll come to regret it much in the same way.

Maybe she will come to feel regret.  But first she needs to learn how to forgive herself.

Best wishes,

Schwing

[sarah98]

I'm really sorry to hear about what you've been through with your ex. Trying to make sense of her actions, especially if she might have Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), is super tough. The way she shifted from being loving to cold and like she didn't care at all sounds really painful.

People with BPD often have this thing called "splitting" where they see others as all good or all bad with nothing in between. It might explain why she changed so suddenly. The story about the rabbits and her feeling so ashamed might show how deep her struggles go, and you feeling like those rabbits really shows how much it hurt you.

Healing from this is gonna take focusing on yourself and maybe getting some support. My mom actually got to go to a support group at ---------- for free, which was all about helping families and partners of someone with BPD. It helped her a lot to understand and cope with everything. it might be a good place for you to find some help too. They have this family and partners support group that could really be useful for you.

Remember, it’s okay to take your time to heal and it's important to look after yourself. It’s tough, but you're not alone in this.

Healing's a journey, and it's okay to seek out help along the way. Hang in there, and take care of yourself.

[jaded7]

First, Resilient...I get it. I'm 4 years out and still going through these thoughts, daily. Hourly, even. The confusion and
seeming lack of regard is shocking and the callousness, detachment....so hard.

And Schwing, that is one of the best explanations I've ever read. You must be a psychologist??? Holy cow.

I've read a lot on this disorder trying to make sense of it and what happened and I've spoken a lot with my therapist. I've come to the conclusion there is an emotional side of this and an intellectual side of this that don't speak to each other.
At least for me, the more I learn the more I realize that the relief is temporary. I do have childhood SA in my past, and
I'm sure that contributes. The emotional pain continues in spite of the learning.

Thank you both for sharing. I get what you're feeling Resilient, and your insights are remarkable Schwing.

[ResilientSoul]

@schwing Firstly, thank you for such a comprehensive and insightful response. It's sincerely appreciated.

It's just incredibly difficult to comprehend why someone who feared abandonment so much would abandon me, when I made it so clear that I wanted her to stay. I can believe it though, if only because it helps make sense of a lot of what I went through. It's as if, for pwBPD, the idea of "being abandoned" is distinct from "being without", such that they can tolerate the latter just so long as it's on their own terms.

Perhaps, however much I persuaded her, she just couldn't believe I would ever be able to forgive her, and figured (wrongly) that I would end up leaving her for it. It also helps explain some other things I didn't include in my already lengthy post, so again I appreciate the insight immensely; it's given me a lot to think about.

However, if you are like me, in which case the ending of my first BPD relationship caused me to examine my own upbringing to discover that my parents are personality disordered, then unraveling all that pain will require more effort.  This effort will be worthwhile though as it will spare you from making future choices that might otherwise lead to a similar outcome.

Unfortunately, you have described things exactly; as I've tried to understand the dynamics of my relationship with my ex-wife, I've come to to realize that my mother likely suffers from BPD as well, and my father from NPD. Apparently, such a pairing is not uncommon; I actually suspect similarly of my ex-wife's parents too. These revelations have naturally led to some very trying introspection, and it's made me question if I'm possibly a codependent or even a narcissist. Fortunately, they say if you ask yourself if you might be a narcissist, you're probably not one. However, much like my ex-wife, I certainly experienced childhood trauma as a result of my parents' dysfunction, and I suspect that this is a huge part of why we were drawn to one another so intensely.

There is of course so much to untangle, and so much inner turmoil and pain. I've recently come to question if uprooting my life to be with my ex-wife was partly an attempt to individuate from disapproving parents, only to then quickly fall into a new negative behavior pattern with her. Whichever way you look at it, I have no doubt that our relationship existed at the intersection of our mutual traumas, both of which have very similar roots, and perhaps even some manifestations.

Do you think it's common to fall down these kind of psychological rabbit holes after pwBPD discard us?

[ResilientSoul]

First, Resilient...I get it. I'm 4 years out and still going through these thoughts, daily. Hourly, even. The confusion and
seeming lack of regard is shocking and the callousness, detachment....so hard.

And Schwing, that is one of the best explanations I've ever read. You must be a psychologist??? Holy cow.

I've read a lot on this disorder trying to make sense of it and what happened and I've spoken a lot with my therapist. I've come to the conclusion there is an emotional side of this and an intellectual side of this that don't speak to each other.
At least for me, the more I learn the more I realize that the relief is temporary. I do have childhood SA in my past, and
I'm sure that contributes. The emotional pain continues in spite of the learning.

Thank you both for sharing. I get what you're feeling Resilient, and your insights are remarkable Schwing.

I'm sorry you're still feeling the pain, even after so long, but of course I get it. As I approach being a year out from it, I often wonder that even if I do truly heal from this, it's gonna leave one heck of a scar.

I totally get what you're saying about the intellectual side and the emotional side not talking. I've read so much about BPD, read so many people's stories, and can understand on an intellectual level the psychological mechanisms at play. But yet, when I try to translate that into my subjective experience of the person I knew, it becomes incredibly difficult to reconcile. Emotionally, the way they just disconnect, and all that love and all those memories seemingly become nothing...it's just incomprehensible.

[once removed]

Apparently, such a pairing is not uncommon; I actually suspect similarly of my ex-wife's parents too. These revelations have naturally led to some very trying introspection, and it's made me question if I'm possibly a codependent or even a narcissist. Fortunately, they say if you ask yourself if you might be a narcissist, you're probably not one.

this (if you ask yourself if you might be a borderline or narcissist, youre not) is an urban legend.

theres another one, thats closer to the truth: ask a narcissist if he thinks hes a narcissist, and he will tell you yes, and see it as a virtue 

most people who are suffering with a personality disorder get that something deep down is wrong. apart from hospitalization, it is usually what leads to a diagnosis.

narcissistic and borderline pairings arent just uncommon; they are legendary (a whole book about them!), and a full 50% of romantic partners of someone with clinical BPD have a personality disorder themselves.

i dont point this out to sound the alarm, but to encourage you not to shy away from continuing to examine these questions about yourself. many of us bring NPD and codependent traits into these relationships, and they played a role.

Do you think it's common to fall down these kind of psychological rabbit holes after pwBPD discard us?

a psychological crisis (a bad breakup counts) can be turned into a unique opportunity to self reinvent, and become better, more resilient versions of ourselves, after we lick our wounds.

introspection, learning more about psychology, all of these things can teach us more about ourselves and those around us. doing the post mortem (what happened and what to learn from it) will be informed by what you learn. its a good idea.

the internet is not your friend, in that regard. theres a lot of bad information, urban legends and myths, especially when it comes to personality disorders. when youre going down rabbit holes, its good to have a map