So I cracked and called the guy, but instead he texts to finish with me. I ask him to come round to get his stuff, he doesn’t want to come over for 45 minutes. So I drive to his house and wait until he gets into his van, he sees me and gets into my car. He couldn’t come sooner because he had to finish his Fifa game (I learned from his housemate).

He says he wants to finish because I deserve better and because he keeps letting me down, and he won’t change. I question this as the only change I want is for him to meet my psychologist and learn more about BPD because he hasn’t bothered understanding me. Turns out he’s been taking my insecurities to heart too, another result of not bothering to understand my BPD. But no, he doesn’t want to go to counselling, but doesn’t know why.

This flips me over the edge. Ignored for 4 days, dumped by text and no good reason for it – and not even having the decency to explain why you don’t want to make this work.

So I lock the car doors and start driving, refusing to turn around until he gives me a proper explanation. I drove for hours. He tried to get out the car a few times but I’d hold him in. Around 2am I pull in to a dark, unlit track somewhere I don’t even know. He pulls out his phone and I notice he’s downloaded a couple of dating apps and I just absolutely lose it. My voice is hoarse from the screaming and sobbing. I’ve got scrapes on my hands where I punched everything inside my car. I vomit out the car door. How can he do this to me? How how how how?

As luck would have it my car battery dies and we wait for a passer-by to jump start the engine, and then I drop him home around 3.15.

This guy is the worst thing for me. He brings out the worst person inside of me. He’s treated me the worst anyone has ever treated me.

So I drop him off, tell him it’s over and walk out of his life forever.



HahahahahahahahahHAHAHAHA. What a fucking JOKE. No – I don’t do that at ALL because I’m FUCKED IN THE HEAD. I actually say we’ll go to counselling again. This guy rips my heart out and stamps on it and I just keep going back for more. I’m that annoying girl I once met who constantly complained about her boyfriend yet did fuck all about it.

I can’t let go. I would hack my own fucking hands off if it meant I could escape from this, if this writhing fucking BPD didn’t make me so DESPERATE for companionship. I disgust myself. I have zero self-respect. I’m not even going to tell anyone what happened – because I hear the words coming out of my mouth the way they do.

The thing is, I left my husband because I believed I could find better, and deserved better. I was stronger then (didn’t know I had BPD, mind…), and now two years later I’ve witnessed all the scum this world has to offer. Did I get anything better? You can bet your ass I didn’t. So. Do I want to venture out again? To waste another year of my life sifting through the shit just to find another guy who’s gonna absolutely crush me??

When I left my ex, I was full of hope that good things were out there for me. I thought life would get better, I thought I could take control with my head held high. I had aspirations and hobbies and I was interesting. Now I’m just this pathetic shell of my old self.

If I could only turn off my emotions for about 6 or 7 months, perhaps I could find my way out of this mess.

I’m nearly 30, and all around me my friends are settling down in their comfortable relationships. Everyone is pairing off and curling up in their warm houses together. I never wanted a big job or lots of money or a big house. I was just a kid who was left to somehow grow up by herself, ignored by a horribly unloving and abusive mother.

All I ever wanted was little family of my own, so we could all love each other properly, and the Dad wouldn’t leave and the Mum wouldn’t flip out and thump her 5 and 7 year old kids for being funny, even though the same joke made her laugh the day before.

Just want to love and be loved. That’s literally it. Everything just falls in to place after that.