The last two nights I’ve slept in a yellow bed that isn’t my own. It feels like a vacation that I didn’t choose.
I’ve written about my relationships before, and my BPD (borderline personality disorder). The two do not play well together. Two days ago, my boyfriend moved out of the apartment we moved into only a month ago. This was triggered by my constant vitriolic behavior with regards to his new teaching job — something I *should* be proud of him for, and want to celebrate with him. Only his getting that job only made me feel small, stupid and unaccomplished, and most of all, angry with myself for not making the “right” choices earlier in life. Despite our solid connection and deep love for each other, he left.
I came home from work to a near-empty apartment. He took everything of his. I begged and pleaded on the phone. (Classic BPD behavior: “I hate you/Don’t leave me.”) Through many tearful experiences and an act of self-harm I won’t get into, I wound up staying at my best friend’s house. When I pulled up in the driveway (a total mess) I saw my other best friend’s car in the driveway. Having my friends there helped tremendously. I really do have the best friends in the world–they seem to think that with a little time, and me getting the help I need, that me and bf can work things out.
We’ve been in pretty consistent contact. He’s said “I love you” so many times, and so have I. He was the one who took me to the hospital yesterday. The love hasn’t changed. I want him to come home so much. My cats are alone there, which breaks my heart. They’ve been cared for every day so far, but I miss them and worry about them. But being there is impossible, being alone is impossible. There’s nothing left there. No internet, no TV, no xbox, no air conditioner. No boyfriend, no love. I feel like he took it with him when he left.
At the urgency of my friends, my PCP and a psychiatrist’s office I was referred to, I went to the emergency room yesterday to be evaluated. They decided to release me because I wasn’t an immediate danger. The plan is to see a psychiatrist, start back up on my Wellbutrin and find out if I really do have BPD. (The therapist who “diagnosed me a few years back was a LICSW, which means she can’t technically diagnose mental illnesses.)
This is the hardest and most painful thing I’ve ever done. A part of me is afraid boyfriend won’t come home, even though he says he wants to. I’m afraid it will take longer than I want. I’ve been reading online about the benefits of separation (I can only find stuff on marital separations, really) and I’m hoping that starting the path of getting help, and getting some space away from the relationship will give us both perspective. I know it won’t change how I feel about him, and I hope it doesn’t change how he feels about me. My heart hurts. All I want is to be in his arms.
It’s been too many nights of being with
To now suddenly be without.