Friday, April 18, 2008


"You're back to yourself," my ex wife said to me, "even your daughter said something to me about how you don't yell anymore."

I yelled? I have no recollection of yelling at my kids. So I asked them, and sure enough, they confirmed that I yelled at them.

This was when I was in the relationship with the BPD. As it turns out, I would yell at my kids quite often. My oldest said, "that's because you were always fighting with her (the BPD)."

"You guys would fight every night, when we went to bed," my daughter chimed in.

Holy crap. I forgot about that. I forgot about how I felt back then. All I wanted was to make peace; that's all I ever wanted.

All we did was fight, day and night. She never was happy with me. I always did something wrong, from taking too long when I went out to accusations of sleeping with someone else. There were so many other accusations that I'm starting to forget them, thank God.

For the most part, I would stand up for myself. Sometimes, I would just ignore them, and other times, I would accept them. What else do you do? You just want the accusations to go away. You try everything in your power to make them go away.

They don't go away. They only get worse in time.

They only get worse. My God, how could they get worse?

She controlled my every move. She knew when I was going anywhere, whether it be leaving work, going to get my kids, going to take lunch, whatever it may be. And that still wasn't enough. She even said to me once when I told her that she knows my every move, "that's impossible, no one knows someone's every move."

She knew my every move. Yet it still wasn't enough.

Now I understand why I was so angry. Having someone controlling your every move and still not being happy will eventually rip you apart. It will rip you into pieces and make you so frustrated. That's how I got - super-frustrated.

My poor kids. The reason why I wanted to be in a relationship after my marriage was to show them what a healthy couple looks like, what a happy couple looks like. Then I meet the BPD and I show them a world of Oz where I spend less time with them than when I was with their mother.

Now, they have me back. They have "Father of The Year" that focuses on the kids, keeps them active and engaged, and plays with them. I'm the Dad that plays with my kids, I don't watch them play.

They learn from me and my example. The relationship with the BPD was not a good example, but it was less than two years. The whole family still hurts, but in time, it will be better.

Time heals all wounds.

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