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I’m especially gutted to read stuff like this, having been recently diagnosed with a moderate to severe case after not understanding my behavior for over thirty years. Have you ever asked someone with BPD what it’s like to live with themselves? To cry and drink themselves to sleep because they don’t understand why they’re like this? How they can’t fathom why they’re completely and utterly alone when it seems like they’re doing everything right, but going off the deep end every now and then without any earthly idea why? How they’d much rather embrace a bullet to the fucking temple than deal with this godawful sickness and a world full of indifferent people like you for just one more day? Pray tell, have you ever asked someone what it’s like to feel like life itself is a prison from which you can’t escape, trapped with a person you can’t even begin to explain nor relate to? Didn’t think so. I get my work done, dude. It’s like no matter how much I try to keep other people happy, nobody gives a shit and assumes I’m like everyone else they’ve ever met who claims to have it, and they’re confidently able to predict who I am based on a label. You sure have the leprosy of BPD figured out; sounds like I should be playing more office politics, since that’s what I’m supposed to do, apparently. A not-insignificant portion of this thread sucks, is just outright depressing, and suggests to me that there’s little hope for ever successfully loving or communicating with other people. And you know the worst part? I fall in love easily because I want absolutely nothing more than to feel that connection with another human being. Comments like this remind me of the futility that lies therein. I shouldn’t have read the comments, and I knew better when I clicked it, but I did it anyway in the vain hope that I would read something to inspire me to keep pressing forward. How’s that working out, you ask? Makes me relieved I bought a tall bottle of Goose at the store earlier, thank you. Your other, horrible comment comparing BPD to incontinence makes me want to say something really nasty, emotional, and visceral to you, but I’m strongly resisting because it would just reinforce your fucked up belief structure about people who are genuinely suffering on a level that you can’t even comprehend. Seriously, I’ve clicked Edit and typed some of the meanest things I’ve ever said several times now, but I also know to resist that overwhelming urge for both of our sakes. How’s that for your opinion of people like me? Do I fit your box? I genuinely hope you find it in yourself to develop empathy for people who aren’t as advantaged and in control of their lives as you. I’m sorry to rebuke you so harshly, but Christ. |
She was otherwise an apparently successful masters student who I'm sure can hold down a job for years at a time. But taking completely senseless abuse just isn't worth it for the vast majority of potential partners, even if the BPD person has many redeeming qualities and can't control their outbursts.
I wish her (and everyone in a similar situation) all the best, but I am too emotionally sensitive and empathetic to be able to deal with that for the long term without going nuts myself.