I wrote this some time ago. It has been a while since I have posted here. It has been four months out, and things are much better than they were. I am physically and emotionally healthy and am pursuing the good life with grand eagerness. Enjoy.
Yesterday, while in one of my psychology classes, we were discussing fetal alcohol syndrome holding women legally responsible if they drink while pregnant. Somehow this discussion got side-tracked into abortion. A young gentleman from the South, made it clear that he was against all forms of abortion, which is typical for the South mentality. This elicited a lot of strong feelings from some of the females in my class. When abortion due to rape was mentioned, the gentleman responded with a pretty good analogy of how the child would still prefer to live, and asking what about the child’s right to live.
For some reason, this really pushed a particular girl’s buttons in the class that I like to refer to as a man-eater. She was livid with him. Saying that she wished that every male, especially white-male, would be raped, because then we would see things differently. She then went on a man-hating tirade about how white-males have controlled the world for 4,000 years, imposing their tyranny on women, and how we have no right to have an opinion on this matter… typical male hatred stuff.
This opened up a whole can of worms for me. Lately, I have been struggling with a lot of resentment towards some of my friends and especially my family considering their outlook on what I went through in my relationship. I had an extremely sweet, kind, and timid female cousin who was married to someone I believe has Narcissistic Personality Disorder. He never physically abused her, but he psychologically and emotionally abused her to the point that she committed suicide. It is a really touchy subject in our family. Everyone blames him for what he did, and holds him completely responsible and views him as his actions as evil.
Yes, the big bad aggressive male hurting the poor timid girl usually elicits this response. But, when discussing the things my exbpdgf did to me, my family just doesn’t feel the same way. I was close to suicide… self medicating on old anti-depressants/mood stabilizers from my bipolar days, and down to 127 lbs from my usual 145 weight. I was so messed up, and barely holding my head above water. They have no idea how hard it was for me just to wake up and face the world each day. 99% of my thoughts were concerning her, and the agony associated with her. Yet, my friends and family, some of whom had witnessed at least somewhat of her abusive behaviors, acted like I should “just get over her” or “it is no big deal, you are a man and can handle yourself just fine.”
I am sorry if I offend any women on this board for saying this, but I am extremely pissed at the view society has on female abuse towards a male. I don’t know why it is viewed as cute or funny when a woman throws a dish at a mans head, or drives over him with her car, or even slaps him when he says something she doesn’t like… this is abuse, pure and simple.
If the sexes were reciprocated – I was female and she was male, I am sure my friends and family would be viewing this situation completely different. They probably would have been at my door, protecting me from her and getting me help and police assistance after one of her violent rages. Yet, when I called the police to report a suicide threat and domestic violence, I was the one searched, background checked, and questioned….
Even my own mother acts like this was no big deal, that my ex was just “crazy” and that’s that, almost no sympathy that I was extremely emotionally, verbally and physically abused by a very out of control woman… and that I was letting myself endure the abuse.
Once again, if I would have been, say, my little sister, my father would have had the man’s head on a platter and my mom would have been checking her into therapy for “battered woman syndrome” before the sun set.
Worse yet is the response I have been receiving by mutual friends of ours. They intimately know my side of the story, they know how this has affected me and how I was so depressed and beaten down…. Yet, they still act like I should just get over her and it should be no big deal if I run into her at a party or find out that they are still communicating with her. Trust me, this would be completely different if I was a female being abused by a male. They wouldn’t be caught dead communicating with “him.”
I am sorry, but if I found out that one of my friends spouses or partners was abusing them, I WOULD NEVER retain communication with that person and why would I want to! I may yet have to cut more friends out of my life for their refusal to respect this.
Two of my favorite books are “The Alienist” and “Angel of Darkness” by Caleb Carr. These books directly deal with society’s view on women as being timid, divine, and incapable of violence. I really love the growth of Keizler, the psychiatrist and how his views on women change dramatically. If you haven’t read these books, they are a MUST READ and are very entertaining. I think you will especially enjoy Angel of Darkness, because in my opinion, the villain is an out of control borderline struggling with finding her identity.
In conclusion, there is no difference between the sexes when it comes to violence and poor behavior. It is not cute or funny when either a female or male abuses their partner. It should be taken seriously no matter what sex the offender is.
Also, just because I am a man and can supposedly protect myself if I needed to, this does not take away my hardships of enduring abusive behavior. I have been punched, kicked, bit, clawed, hair pulled, hand slammed in the door, things thrown at me, possessions destroyed while I was helpless to prevent her from destroying them, and even run over by her with her car. NONE OF THIS was cute or funny, and ALL OF THIS was extremely emotionally damaging to me, even if I could have physically prevented these from happening.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Reflections
I have been reflecting back a lot about why I was attracted to Whitney in the first place. Surely I wouldn't have fallen for such a wreck the first time I met her would I? Thinking back, she displayed a completely different person than who she really was. The girl I originally fell for was in reality nothing like what she portrayed herself to be.
For example:
On our first date, I asked her about work and school and what she was doing with her life. She responded that she was almost ready for flight school, and that she just needed to log 60 more hours of flying before she could go any further, and that money was the only issue because flight hours were extremely expensive. To me, that was really impressive, because she was only 19 at the time and in her description, was pretty darn close to a stable career.
When I asked about her work, she told me she currently was working three jobs. One was as a receptionist/marketing for a small local skate board apparel shop, where she made a very decent hourly wage, more than I was making at the time, and it sounded like a very solid/fun job. Again I was impressed and a little jealous, because years earlier I had gone to school for design and this sounded like my dream job. She told me she would introduce me to her boss in the future. Awesome!
Since she was "saving" up for flight hours, she told me that she had taken a job with Victoria’s Secret part-time as well, and was working 60 hrs a week between the two jobs. Again, I was wowed over with the fact that I had found such and accomplished go-getter that could inspire me to get my act together. It was reassuring to know that this girl was on her feet, could provide for herself, and was busy enough that I would have plenty of time for my own friends and hobbies as she would be working a lot.
Lastly, she said that she modeled on the weekends for a well known modeling magazine that paid really well per shoot and was real easy money. What more could I want in a girl than a badass Pilot/Model/Marketing whiz girlfriend?!?
By this time, I was so enchanted with her, that I couldn't understand how she was single, as she was the "perfect" girl in my mind. I asked her about her past relationships and she responded that about a month or two ago, she had broken up with her extremely abusive deadbeat boyfriend. She told me that she had loved him and thought that she could inspire him to change, but she finally got sick of providing for him when he was spending all of her cash on xbox games and eating out. The final straw was when she found out that he cheated on her. When I asked her why she had originally chosen him, she responded that he was a dreamy, cute, popular, bad boy that when she was younger, were the characteristics she found attractive. She said she was no longer attracted to that, and wanted a "nice romantic man" who would appreciate her and not use her.
If there was anything to complete the "ideal" scenario for me, this was it. I wasn't anything like this guy. I was a smart, romantic, caring, hardworking dude who would absolutely NEVER cheat on her. I would appreciate her! I would show her what a good guy really was....
Well... as you all know, these were all not necessarily 100% lies, but great fabrications of what was really going on.
First, she was nowhere near becoming a pilot. She had taken maybe one or two classes in aviation from the local community college. The only "hours" she had logged flying, were when a friend of hers had taken her up in his plane and let her hold the controls for a bit.
Second, her work experience was all bogus. She sort of worked for the skateboard shop. They needed a temporary receptionist every once in a while, and let her come in for a few hours every couple weeks. She did have a job with Victorias Secret, but it was a SEASONAL holiday job with very few crappy hours that were inconvenient and ended up not being worth her time. And as being a model, yes, she had been paid a couple of times for some shoots, but it was not a consistent thing. The guy would call out of the blue every month or so if his regular models didn't work out.
Now, as for the whole past relationship... it wasn't quite PAST yet. She was still seeing him off and on, and he didn't even know she was dating me. According to his version of the story, it was she that was the deadbeat, and blown all of their money on pets and things she HAD to have. She couldn't hold a job and they were living off loans from his uncle that had been given to him for Helicopter school. (I find it fascinating that she, just like a chameleon, changed her lifestyle, ambitions and goals to mirror his) He did admit to "cheating" on her, but from his story, it was SHE that had cheated on him first and he felt like he needed to get her back. They did have a extremely unhealthy relationship, but it seemed to be more of a HER problem than a HIM problem.
Conclusion:
It seems to me that I had met a girl that was desperately trying to be someone greater than what she was. Rather than admitting to herself and others exactly what she was, she had to create an idealized version of her fragmented self. It was if she was fantasizing about how SHE would be if everything could have worked out the way she dreamed of, because she COULD NOT accept herself for the truth. Whatever the reason, she was full of too much self-loathing to ever admit to herself or to others the reality of things.
But, as life goes, the truth has a way of coming out on its own. I soon found out that she was nothing like what she had described herself as, and I myself, didn’t want to accept this. She had now hooked me into her fantasy world, and if she wasn’t this fantasy yet, than I had to help groom her to accomplish it. I NEEDED THIS.
Alas, I found out the hard way that it is impossible to do this. I started to accept her for who she really was and love her anyways. Even through all of the lies, she still had some amazing qualities. I had grown to accept this, but she hadn’t. The next three years were filled with pain, betrayal and deception. It was as if she couldn’t bear the fact that I saw her for who she really was. Whenever she was around me, I was a representation of just what she was… and wasn’t. And this triggered her need to run away from this, to desperately seek someone to share that fantasy with again. In her mind, we were too broken. She could no longer uphold the collective fantasy with me.
Through my blood, sweat and tears, I fought tooth and nail to keep this relationship alive. Crisis after crisis, I patiently worked through them, hoping that one day she would see the light. I tried to show her that her true self was beautiful and worth it, but as long as she didn’t believe it, than how could she convince anyone else? The more I loved her, the more she despised me, because how could I love something that she herself couldn’t stand? All of my loving motives were then misconstrued by her into attempts to manipulate and control her. She thought that she was just some sort of “science experiment” for me to toy with. She wanted so badly to be important, to be special, to be needed…. But in her own mind she was a failure, and a nobody. By me telling her otherwise, just meant that I was either a sadistic manipulating menace or a down right blind fool, and why would she want to be with either of those? Besides, eventually I would see her for who she really was, and would abandon her. Borderlines cannot tolerate even the thought of abandonment.
These inner self hating feelings can only be quelled for so long until they have to have an outlet. Borderlines do this in two ways. 1) self destructive behaviors like cutting, risky behavior, recklessness, promiscuity etc or 2) projection.
Projection is where the person puts all of their faults and failures they have with themselves onto the other person, or “projects” their internal feelings onto an external factor.
With projection, the person who has “caught them” or figured them out, becomes the bad guy. Its like in their version of the bank robbery, they the robbers are the good guys, and the cops are the villains. It is not their fault they needed the money, and who are these people to deny them of their needs.
I was her villain. I was the one holding her accountable for what she really was. I became the source of her pain, her torment, her shattered fantasy. How dare I? Without me standing in the way, she would be free to paint the most wonderfully colorful fantasy that she desired. And for a time, she knew she could escape there. Desperation is the key word. She was desperate for a way out, and I was the one standing in the way.
With me successfully out of the way now, I see her following down the same path with her new romantic endeavors. Her fabrications about her life, her past and her future are all being displayed with eagerness to her new romance. She says she is happy, and I believe that she is, because, for now, she has painted the picture perfect fantasy and nothing is threatening it. But, as it was last time, it is now. It is all based on lies and fabrications, and is doomed to fail. Until she faces the truth about herself and finds love in who she really is, she will fail.
My heart goes out to her. I myself know the key to ending this cycle of creation and destruction. I was once a lot like her. In fact, I used to have a lot of borderline/narcissistic traits that I don’t even want to admit to. I sabotaged friendships and relationships when I felt they might threaten my grandiose self identity. I not only lied to others, but I convinced myself of my own lies.
Just like her I would stretch the truth. I would try and display to others what a badass I was. How I was a hardcore punk rocker, tough guy, hockey player who is invincible and doesn’t let anyone get to him. I was that smooth, that cool, that composed….
It was all a lie. I lied about events in my life, how many girls I slept with, what drugs I had used, how many parties I had been to, how many fights I had been in, what my talents were, how smart I was, who I was deep down…. It was all an ideal vision of who I thought I wanted to be.
I was Kevin, the straight shooting, ass-kicking, champion of champions.
I too was a chameleon at times. When I found out a new friend of mine who I wanted to impress was into ice hockey, I lied to him and said that hockey was my favorite sport. When he asked who my favorite team was, I had to scramble for an answer and shot out a team that was from Colorado, because hell, I lived in Colorado once, seemed like a logical choice. When he asked who my favorite player was, I did my best to wiggle my way out of it saying I didn’t necessarily have a “favorite.” He told me his favorite Avalanche player was Claude Lemieux, immediately I responded that Lemieux was probably my favorite too. Indeed, during those years, Mr. Lemieux was designated as my favorite player.
After the fact, I researched the player so if I was called out on this, I would have a good comeback. This is how I lived. Trying to impress and please people to get them to like me. I hated my self. I hated how scared I was and how I was unable to control my destiny. I hated depending on people, especially my parents, who knew the real me. I desperately wanted to be someone who I wasn’t… someone strong, someone important, someone so badass that no one could hurt me.
My life became a series of lies. My identity was molded from false experiences. I started to act accordingly, I desperately tried anything to become this person, but deep down I myself knew I wasn’t and couldn’t maintain this image, and this killed me.
I became so depressed, so worn out from running around in shoes that were too big for me. My depression became so intense, that I questioned whether life was worth living. It was all fake…life… me… my identity… my accomplishments… Everything that made me who I was, WAS A LIE. And why continue living that way. Maybe I could fool everyone in the world for a short time, but eventually, the mirage would dissipate and I would be forced to show the world just how week and worthless I really was, and when they found out, they would shun me.
I tried everything to avoid this scenario. So when people became close to unmasking me, I would push them away or I would run and find new victims for my deception. It was much easier to deal with rejected friendships and relationships when I rejected them, rather than face the chance that someone would reject me. I needed to be loved, admired, respected…. So I could respect myself. If I didn’t receive this attention, then those people were not worth my time and were evil or useless in my mind.
Fortunately for me, I don’t think this was as ingrained as it is for Whitney. At least a part of me could identify with my true self. Eventually when the depression became too intense to uphold the mirage any longer, my true, beautiful self took control.
I realized that the only way to become happy was to stop judging myself unworthy of happiness. I needed to stop the deception and accept myself for who I was. I needed to find exactly what I was made of, what made me ME.
To do this, I was going to have to expose myself for who I really was. I would have to become vulnerable… this was my greatest fear, my kryptonite.
It is at this point a person with a personality disorder must be, before change is ever going to occur. For me, I had two options. A) commit suicide or B) face my greatest fear and kill my false self.
Believe me when I say that I flirted with option A) more than I ever want to remember. To me, it was the practical method. Who was I to think I could face 19 years of lies, 19 years of pain, 19 years of being so damn scared to be myself… and prevail.
I wasn’t happy now, I wasn’t happy in the past(or at least couldn’t remember being happy), why should I ever believe that I would be happy in the future? The mountain seemed much too hard to climb, and I was already hanging on the cliff with just one finger preventing me from falling to my death. I was exhausted, depressed and ending my existence seemed very attractive.
Too be continued….
For example:
On our first date, I asked her about work and school and what she was doing with her life. She responded that she was almost ready for flight school, and that she just needed to log 60 more hours of flying before she could go any further, and that money was the only issue because flight hours were extremely expensive. To me, that was really impressive, because she was only 19 at the time and in her description, was pretty darn close to a stable career.
When I asked about her work, she told me she currently was working three jobs. One was as a receptionist/marketing for a small local skate board apparel shop, where she made a very decent hourly wage, more than I was making at the time, and it sounded like a very solid/fun job. Again I was impressed and a little jealous, because years earlier I had gone to school for design and this sounded like my dream job. She told me she would introduce me to her boss in the future. Awesome!
Since she was "saving" up for flight hours, she told me that she had taken a job with Victoria’s Secret part-time as well, and was working 60 hrs a week between the two jobs. Again, I was wowed over with the fact that I had found such and accomplished go-getter that could inspire me to get my act together. It was reassuring to know that this girl was on her feet, could provide for herself, and was busy enough that I would have plenty of time for my own friends and hobbies as she would be working a lot.
Lastly, she said that she modeled on the weekends for a well known modeling magazine that paid really well per shoot and was real easy money. What more could I want in a girl than a badass Pilot/Model/Marketing whiz girlfriend?!?
By this time, I was so enchanted with her, that I couldn't understand how she was single, as she was the "perfect" girl in my mind. I asked her about her past relationships and she responded that about a month or two ago, she had broken up with her extremely abusive deadbeat boyfriend. She told me that she had loved him and thought that she could inspire him to change, but she finally got sick of providing for him when he was spending all of her cash on xbox games and eating out. The final straw was when she found out that he cheated on her. When I asked her why she had originally chosen him, she responded that he was a dreamy, cute, popular, bad boy that when she was younger, were the characteristics she found attractive. She said she was no longer attracted to that, and wanted a "nice romantic man" who would appreciate her and not use her.
If there was anything to complete the "ideal" scenario for me, this was it. I wasn't anything like this guy. I was a smart, romantic, caring, hardworking dude who would absolutely NEVER cheat on her. I would appreciate her! I would show her what a good guy really was....
Well... as you all know, these were all not necessarily 100% lies, but great fabrications of what was really going on.
First, she was nowhere near becoming a pilot. She had taken maybe one or two classes in aviation from the local community college. The only "hours" she had logged flying, were when a friend of hers had taken her up in his plane and let her hold the controls for a bit.
Second, her work experience was all bogus. She sort of worked for the skateboard shop. They needed a temporary receptionist every once in a while, and let her come in for a few hours every couple weeks. She did have a job with Victorias Secret, but it was a SEASONAL holiday job with very few crappy hours that were inconvenient and ended up not being worth her time. And as being a model, yes, she had been paid a couple of times for some shoots, but it was not a consistent thing. The guy would call out of the blue every month or so if his regular models didn't work out.
Now, as for the whole past relationship... it wasn't quite PAST yet. She was still seeing him off and on, and he didn't even know she was dating me. According to his version of the story, it was she that was the deadbeat, and blown all of their money on pets and things she HAD to have. She couldn't hold a job and they were living off loans from his uncle that had been given to him for Helicopter school. (I find it fascinating that she, just like a chameleon, changed her lifestyle, ambitions and goals to mirror his) He did admit to "cheating" on her, but from his story, it was SHE that had cheated on him first and he felt like he needed to get her back. They did have a extremely unhealthy relationship, but it seemed to be more of a HER problem than a HIM problem.
Conclusion:
It seems to me that I had met a girl that was desperately trying to be someone greater than what she was. Rather than admitting to herself and others exactly what she was, she had to create an idealized version of her fragmented self. It was if she was fantasizing about how SHE would be if everything could have worked out the way she dreamed of, because she COULD NOT accept herself for the truth. Whatever the reason, she was full of too much self-loathing to ever admit to herself or to others the reality of things.
But, as life goes, the truth has a way of coming out on its own. I soon found out that she was nothing like what she had described herself as, and I myself, didn’t want to accept this. She had now hooked me into her fantasy world, and if she wasn’t this fantasy yet, than I had to help groom her to accomplish it. I NEEDED THIS.
Alas, I found out the hard way that it is impossible to do this. I started to accept her for who she really was and love her anyways. Even through all of the lies, she still had some amazing qualities. I had grown to accept this, but she hadn’t. The next three years were filled with pain, betrayal and deception. It was as if she couldn’t bear the fact that I saw her for who she really was. Whenever she was around me, I was a representation of just what she was… and wasn’t. And this triggered her need to run away from this, to desperately seek someone to share that fantasy with again. In her mind, we were too broken. She could no longer uphold the collective fantasy with me.
Through my blood, sweat and tears, I fought tooth and nail to keep this relationship alive. Crisis after crisis, I patiently worked through them, hoping that one day she would see the light. I tried to show her that her true self was beautiful and worth it, but as long as she didn’t believe it, than how could she convince anyone else? The more I loved her, the more she despised me, because how could I love something that she herself couldn’t stand? All of my loving motives were then misconstrued by her into attempts to manipulate and control her. She thought that she was just some sort of “science experiment” for me to toy with. She wanted so badly to be important, to be special, to be needed…. But in her own mind she was a failure, and a nobody. By me telling her otherwise, just meant that I was either a sadistic manipulating menace or a down right blind fool, and why would she want to be with either of those? Besides, eventually I would see her for who she really was, and would abandon her. Borderlines cannot tolerate even the thought of abandonment.
These inner self hating feelings can only be quelled for so long until they have to have an outlet. Borderlines do this in two ways. 1) self destructive behaviors like cutting, risky behavior, recklessness, promiscuity etc or 2) projection.
Projection is where the person puts all of their faults and failures they have with themselves onto the other person, or “projects” their internal feelings onto an external factor.
With projection, the person who has “caught them” or figured them out, becomes the bad guy. Its like in their version of the bank robbery, they the robbers are the good guys, and the cops are the villains. It is not their fault they needed the money, and who are these people to deny them of their needs.
I was her villain. I was the one holding her accountable for what she really was. I became the source of her pain, her torment, her shattered fantasy. How dare I? Without me standing in the way, she would be free to paint the most wonderfully colorful fantasy that she desired. And for a time, she knew she could escape there. Desperation is the key word. She was desperate for a way out, and I was the one standing in the way.
With me successfully out of the way now, I see her following down the same path with her new romantic endeavors. Her fabrications about her life, her past and her future are all being displayed with eagerness to her new romance. She says she is happy, and I believe that she is, because, for now, she has painted the picture perfect fantasy and nothing is threatening it. But, as it was last time, it is now. It is all based on lies and fabrications, and is doomed to fail. Until she faces the truth about herself and finds love in who she really is, she will fail.
My heart goes out to her. I myself know the key to ending this cycle of creation and destruction. I was once a lot like her. In fact, I used to have a lot of borderline/narcissistic traits that I don’t even want to admit to. I sabotaged friendships and relationships when I felt they might threaten my grandiose self identity. I not only lied to others, but I convinced myself of my own lies.
Just like her I would stretch the truth. I would try and display to others what a badass I was. How I was a hardcore punk rocker, tough guy, hockey player who is invincible and doesn’t let anyone get to him. I was that smooth, that cool, that composed….
It was all a lie. I lied about events in my life, how many girls I slept with, what drugs I had used, how many parties I had been to, how many fights I had been in, what my talents were, how smart I was, who I was deep down…. It was all an ideal vision of who I thought I wanted to be.
I was Kevin, the straight shooting, ass-kicking, champion of champions.
I too was a chameleon at times. When I found out a new friend of mine who I wanted to impress was into ice hockey, I lied to him and said that hockey was my favorite sport. When he asked who my favorite team was, I had to scramble for an answer and shot out a team that was from Colorado, because hell, I lived in Colorado once, seemed like a logical choice. When he asked who my favorite player was, I did my best to wiggle my way out of it saying I didn’t necessarily have a “favorite.” He told me his favorite Avalanche player was Claude Lemieux, immediately I responded that Lemieux was probably my favorite too. Indeed, during those years, Mr. Lemieux was designated as my favorite player.
After the fact, I researched the player so if I was called out on this, I would have a good comeback. This is how I lived. Trying to impress and please people to get them to like me. I hated my self. I hated how scared I was and how I was unable to control my destiny. I hated depending on people, especially my parents, who knew the real me. I desperately wanted to be someone who I wasn’t… someone strong, someone important, someone so badass that no one could hurt me.
My life became a series of lies. My identity was molded from false experiences. I started to act accordingly, I desperately tried anything to become this person, but deep down I myself knew I wasn’t and couldn’t maintain this image, and this killed me.
I became so depressed, so worn out from running around in shoes that were too big for me. My depression became so intense, that I questioned whether life was worth living. It was all fake…life… me… my identity… my accomplishments… Everything that made me who I was, WAS A LIE. And why continue living that way. Maybe I could fool everyone in the world for a short time, but eventually, the mirage would dissipate and I would be forced to show the world just how week and worthless I really was, and when they found out, they would shun me.
I tried everything to avoid this scenario. So when people became close to unmasking me, I would push them away or I would run and find new victims for my deception. It was much easier to deal with rejected friendships and relationships when I rejected them, rather than face the chance that someone would reject me. I needed to be loved, admired, respected…. So I could respect myself. If I didn’t receive this attention, then those people were not worth my time and were evil or useless in my mind.
Fortunately for me, I don’t think this was as ingrained as it is for Whitney. At least a part of me could identify with my true self. Eventually when the depression became too intense to uphold the mirage any longer, my true, beautiful self took control.
I realized that the only way to become happy was to stop judging myself unworthy of happiness. I needed to stop the deception and accept myself for who I was. I needed to find exactly what I was made of, what made me ME.
To do this, I was going to have to expose myself for who I really was. I would have to become vulnerable… this was my greatest fear, my kryptonite.
It is at this point a person with a personality disorder must be, before change is ever going to occur. For me, I had two options. A) commit suicide or B) face my greatest fear and kill my false self.
Believe me when I say that I flirted with option A) more than I ever want to remember. To me, it was the practical method. Who was I to think I could face 19 years of lies, 19 years of pain, 19 years of being so damn scared to be myself… and prevail.
I wasn’t happy now, I wasn’t happy in the past(or at least couldn’t remember being happy), why should I ever believe that I would be happy in the future? The mountain seemed much too hard to climb, and I was already hanging on the cliff with just one finger preventing me from falling to my death. I was exhausted, depressed and ending my existence seemed very attractive.
Too be continued….
Sunday, December 13, 2009
More random.
As I was cleaning out a bunch of crap in my house that reminded me of her, I stumbled upon an old folder that I used during my Cognitive Behavioral Therapy for my bipolar disorder/ social anxiety disorder. In it was a journal, mood charts, beliefs and reflections on my progress. For the first time I realized what she was missing that made me so different from her. It was DRIVE!
There was a time in my life where I was horribly depressed to the point of suicidal. I couldn't grasp the concept of being happy. A lot of my relationships and friendships up to that point I had subconsciously sabotaged. With social anxiety disorder, I tended to think for other people. I was highly suspicious, needy, and impulsive. Much of the same issues that borderline personality disorder struggles with. This drove people away from me. I also feared intimacy, and would discourage people from breaking through my super-imposed protective self by being extremely cold and stubborn. Eventually i became so distraught that I wanted out of my life, whatever that took. Thankfully I happened to pick up a book called "Overcoming Mood Swings" and read it and completed the assignments that it had me do.
I don't know what happened, or when I finally clicked, but I saw for the first times that it was MY behaviors that were causing the majority of my pain. I went to therapy, took my medication, and my life made a complete turn around. That book, therapy, and medication were all instrumental in my recovery, but i think the ONE thing that determined me breaking free, was my DESIRE and my DRIVE. I wanted to act ANYWAY other than the way I was acting. Deep down, I knew that I could change and wanted to. I don't think my exbpdgf ever made it that far, the dissonance was too extreme and she couldn't "face the ugly," and ran from it instead, blaming others and burning everyone and everything in her path.
Unfortunately, I think after my "awakening" I turned into a rescuer/caregiver/people pleaser. I always wanted to teach everyone else what I had learned. I think that was what attracted me the most to my exbpdgf, was that she was in desperate need of what I had mastered, and what more romantic of a setting than the knight in shining armor coming to save the princess in distress.
My therapist told me that in her 8 years of practice, she has never seen anyone put forth as much effort as I have in keeping this relationship alive. A part of my, resents this. I almost wish I would have dropped her in one of her times of crisis, maybe the pain would have been enough for her to seek therapy. But, I couldn't. I did the only thing I knew how to do: Fight like hell!
I know I have helped her out immensely. When I met her, she was a wreck, couldn't hold a job, cut her arms, never apologized or was accountable for anything, etc etc etc. Now it seems that she has at least some grasp of reality. But, I write this all EXTREMELY humble to say, there is absolutely nothing you can do to change or wake someone up who is suffering from a personality disorder. I really don't know what happened in my own life that made me *click* other than at the time, I was so depressed, so empty, so done.... that my only options were to find a way to get better, or commit suicide. There were many people in my life that helped me through my journey. Many of them I spat on when they tried to help. I am thankful for them, but really the only reason I got better was because I was sick of my false walled-up super-ego self and how it was turning people away and destroying my life.
After 3 years of rescuing her from her torment, putting off my own issues and concerns to create an environment that I thought would be conducive for her, and trying to save her from herself, I have come to the terms that I was probably doing the worst thing possible for her, which was preventing her from "facing the ugly." I did this because I thought I had the insight, I had been there, done that and recovered. But, i think this is one of life's lessons you cant just teach. She is going to have to learn it the hard way, knees skinned and knuckles bleeding.
You can lead a horse to water, force its head in the trough and make it swallow, but you cant stop him from accusing you of trying to drowned him.
This was exactly my exgirlfriend. Every loving touch was viewed as threatening, degrading and intrusive. The mere fact that I was a representation of recovery and hope, was condescending to her on how she viewed herself. And this pained her. We, the care-giving Nons, are a constant reminder to them of how broken they really are. That is why they fight us and that is why they eventually leave. It is also why they try and exploit your weaknesses and tear you down, time and again. The manipulations, the distortions, the anger and resentment.... its all just a ploy to level the playing field. It is because they feel unworthy, unlovable and disgraceful that they A) are envious of you for not being what they are, and B) think you must have ulterior motives, because who would want to be with someone so despicable as themselves.
Every time my ex broke up with me, she told me it was because she wanted a clean slate. I never really got what she was meaning about that until recently. I always thought she was meaning another guy who had a clean slate, and that I had "hurt" her too many times. Now, i realize that she, deep down, knows that she is broken, and knows and remember all the things she has done and said... and when she sees me, she is reminded of how "ugly" she really is. No one can tolerate that feeling for too long without desperately wanting out. Splitting, projective identification, etc are necessary for the borderline to temporarily thwart this feeling.
The next time you think that you were part of the problem, please be easy on yourself. I know I had my faults and contributed to a lot of pain, but this disorder existed long before me, and will continue to exist long after me, until she can somehow "face the ugly" and not run.
There was a time in my life where I was horribly depressed to the point of suicidal. I couldn't grasp the concept of being happy. A lot of my relationships and friendships up to that point I had subconsciously sabotaged. With social anxiety disorder, I tended to think for other people. I was highly suspicious, needy, and impulsive. Much of the same issues that borderline personality disorder struggles with. This drove people away from me. I also feared intimacy, and would discourage people from breaking through my super-imposed protective self by being extremely cold and stubborn. Eventually i became so distraught that I wanted out of my life, whatever that took. Thankfully I happened to pick up a book called "Overcoming Mood Swings" and read it and completed the assignments that it had me do.
I don't know what happened, or when I finally clicked, but I saw for the first times that it was MY behaviors that were causing the majority of my pain. I went to therapy, took my medication, and my life made a complete turn around. That book, therapy, and medication were all instrumental in my recovery, but i think the ONE thing that determined me breaking free, was my DESIRE and my DRIVE. I wanted to act ANYWAY other than the way I was acting. Deep down, I knew that I could change and wanted to. I don't think my exbpdgf ever made it that far, the dissonance was too extreme and she couldn't "face the ugly," and ran from it instead, blaming others and burning everyone and everything in her path.
Unfortunately, I think after my "awakening" I turned into a rescuer/caregiver/people pleaser. I always wanted to teach everyone else what I had learned. I think that was what attracted me the most to my exbpdgf, was that she was in desperate need of what I had mastered, and what more romantic of a setting than the knight in shining armor coming to save the princess in distress.
My therapist told me that in her 8 years of practice, she has never seen anyone put forth as much effort as I have in keeping this relationship alive. A part of my, resents this. I almost wish I would have dropped her in one of her times of crisis, maybe the pain would have been enough for her to seek therapy. But, I couldn't. I did the only thing I knew how to do: Fight like hell!
I know I have helped her out immensely. When I met her, she was a wreck, couldn't hold a job, cut her arms, never apologized or was accountable for anything, etc etc etc. Now it seems that she has at least some grasp of reality. But, I write this all EXTREMELY humble to say, there is absolutely nothing you can do to change or wake someone up who is suffering from a personality disorder. I really don't know what happened in my own life that made me *click* other than at the time, I was so depressed, so empty, so done.... that my only options were to find a way to get better, or commit suicide. There were many people in my life that helped me through my journey. Many of them I spat on when they tried to help. I am thankful for them, but really the only reason I got better was because I was sick of my false walled-up super-ego self and how it was turning people away and destroying my life.
After 3 years of rescuing her from her torment, putting off my own issues and concerns to create an environment that I thought would be conducive for her, and trying to save her from herself, I have come to the terms that I was probably doing the worst thing possible for her, which was preventing her from "facing the ugly." I did this because I thought I had the insight, I had been there, done that and recovered. But, i think this is one of life's lessons you cant just teach. She is going to have to learn it the hard way, knees skinned and knuckles bleeding.
You can lead a horse to water, force its head in the trough and make it swallow, but you cant stop him from accusing you of trying to drowned him.
This was exactly my exgirlfriend. Every loving touch was viewed as threatening, degrading and intrusive. The mere fact that I was a representation of recovery and hope, was condescending to her on how she viewed herself. And this pained her. We, the care-giving Nons, are a constant reminder to them of how broken they really are. That is why they fight us and that is why they eventually leave. It is also why they try and exploit your weaknesses and tear you down, time and again. The manipulations, the distortions, the anger and resentment.... its all just a ploy to level the playing field. It is because they feel unworthy, unlovable and disgraceful that they A) are envious of you for not being what they are, and B) think you must have ulterior motives, because who would want to be with someone so despicable as themselves.
Every time my ex broke up with me, she told me it was because she wanted a clean slate. I never really got what she was meaning about that until recently. I always thought she was meaning another guy who had a clean slate, and that I had "hurt" her too many times. Now, i realize that she, deep down, knows that she is broken, and knows and remember all the things she has done and said... and when she sees me, she is reminded of how "ugly" she really is. No one can tolerate that feeling for too long without desperately wanting out. Splitting, projective identification, etc are necessary for the borderline to temporarily thwart this feeling.
The next time you think that you were part of the problem, please be easy on yourself. I know I had my faults and contributed to a lot of pain, but this disorder existed long before me, and will continue to exist long after me, until she can somehow "face the ugly" and not run.
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