I hate you, don’t leave me

99-probs

My emotions are always running high. I can feel my brain twisting and shaping my experiences, thoughts, and interactions, often to my detriment and those around me. Any fight can start out innocuously and turn into a very real fear of total abandonment. It is an annoying situation to be in when I really don’t like to depend on anyone. So I’m of two minds, the desire to depend on people and the terror of losing that support, which makes relationships very complicated. The book “I Hate You, Don’t Leave Me” sums it up well. Both of those things can be true at the same time, and they very often are. This makes for a tumultuous home life. I love Husband, but sometimes I hate him and I am also deeply shaken by a fear of him leaving. There are still a lot of unresolved issues from the last few years, things we haven’t had time or weren’t ready to work through.

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The More You Love Someone – Audio

“The more you ruv someone, the more he make you crazy.” This is true of everyone, I think, but it is incredibly true for people with Borderline because of this extreme, perceived risk of abandonment that is a major diagnostic criteria for the disorder. I am always afraid that I am going to lose everyone in my life because I’ve done something wrong or I’m a terrible person or I’ve offended them in an irreparable way. Some relationships in my past were too intense and did end with dissolution. That’s another aspect of BPD, becoming fixated on people. That leads to unrealistic expectations for the other person and then I become insufferable. A few times this ended in major tears but often it was just that I got ghosted. I don’t blame them. I think Husband now bears the brunt of a lot of this interpersonal pressure. I don’t spread it around. It’s all him. That will change the more I do things. When I start school in January lots of things will change, including my potential social sphere. The more pressure is disseminated in other directions, the less there will be on Husband. This is not to say he doesn’t have his own shit to work through, because he does, but it’s understandable that he does. Last year was really, really hard. A suicide attempt is incredibly hard on the people around you, which I understand. I’ve never experienced it from that side, but knowing how awful everything felt for me, I can empathize. They are a different set of difficulties and there is a different recovery process. It’s tricky. No one is on the same timeline. We just have to meet each other where we are. This is foreign territory. I’ve never survived a major suicide attempt before so I don’t have a rulebook, there’s no guide. We’re just doing the best we can.

The best way to avoid meltdown is regular communication.  There have been a lot of things that we’ve avoided talking about head on. It’s always helpful when we do. I learned that I don’t listen as well I thought I did, that I need to try and work on refocusing what kind of memories I make. I have a negativity bias and always have. I remember the bad stuff much more easily than I remember the good stuff, and that can lead to problems. It sets an imbalanced scene in my head where I and others become “bad guys” simply because I can’t set a proper context. Yes there are other things at play but this is definitely a factor. The trouble is I don’t know how to fix it. I used to keep a gratitude journal and that helps me remember the general goodness of my life, but I don’t really know how to refocus my memory on the good things. I suppose like anything it’s just practice and as long as I am aware of it I can try to change it.


I sat for so long trying to figure out what to write about today. None of the prompts that I have appealed to me and the specifics of stuff at home are too personal to share right now. I love writing, and I crave, but it’s not simple or straightforward. For me it’s like an archeological dig: I have to root around in the dust and the dirt of my brain for the fossils, clean them off, put them in the right order, and hoocha hoocha hoocha, a dinosaur.

writer

I don’t drink any more because of the meds, but the sentiment is the same. I still love it.

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