Monday, July 27, 2009

Kicked Out -- Again

So, she kicked me out once in November of 2006 -- like I had covered earlier, hired a PI and accused me of having phone crazy. Anyway, we put it back together. Things were going well -- as well as one could have with a BPD, that is.

I went to Barcelona, Spain on business, and, of course, a multitude of accusations were launched on me when I came back. I was rude and inconsiderate, according to her, because I was out on a date, not that I was having dinner with my boss and told her that I'd call her back. Anyway, Barcelona will be another entry, once I get through this one.

Thinking back, it is clear to me now -- nearly two years out -- that BPDs really do live in another reality. They live in a world all their own. Like they say, it truly is the land of Oz.

Back to the story at hand. After being kicked out, we got better. Had a good Christmas and were moving forward. In fact, we were looking at houses together and about to permanently gel the relationship. She put her house on the market, we put a bid on a house, and we were about to co-own a property.

The only problem was that the housing market was in the pits. Houses were not selling. The prices had dropped significantly. Ironically, they've dropped even more since.

She could never sell her house, and the bids that we put on houses were not accepted. The Lord works in mysterious ways.

Fast forward two to three months. I get a new position at work with a seemingly more solid company as their Internet Marketing Manager. From the start, I can tell that the job will be a good one for me. I fit in well, and the position is challenging and rewarding.

At the end of the second week, I get the phone call at around 4 p.m. I'm sitting right next to my boss, and the BPD calls me. She says, "what are you doing on your website right now? You're screwing with me. I want you to not come back to this house. If you do, I'll call the police."


I'm not sure what I did. Not sure what happened. I responded, "my things are there. You can't do that to me. I at least need to get some things."

She agreed, and here we go again. I went back to the house, got a bag and was on the road. I drove around the first part of the night, heading to the beach, then headed back north, in case she contacted me, which she didn't.

I spoke to my parents, who told me that they loved me and that I could stay with them. I thanked them, but for that night, I wanted to be on my own.

"Just remember, we love you," my Dad said. Wow.

I felt like I was going to cry. "I love you guys too, Dad." When you're feeling so down, in so much despair, your Dad knows the words to make you feel...a little better.

I stayed in a hotel about 30 minutes from the house. This way if she wanted me to come back, I was there.

No phone call. No nothing.

I made an appointment with the doctor that we were both seeing and had an appointment with him. Another reason why I came back North and stayed where I did. We discussed the situation, and he said that he was going to try to get in touch with her.

After seeing the doctor, I got my kids and brought them to my parents' house. We stayed there fro a couple of days, then I had to take them back. While I was there, my parents' dog passed away.

There was a reason why we went there.

I ended up staying there for almost a week. She and I eventually reconciled, but it was again at a price. By this point, I was trusting her less and less, but she now had turned it on me in front of her family.

I was the bad one. I was the liar, the narcissist, the evil one.

To this day, I'm not sure what I did.

Her family bought it, or maybe they didn't. Her father said to me, "it will take you years to fix the problems you have."

I have the problems? I ate a lot of crow for this relationship, all at my expense.

Then he continued to tell me about how his daughter was okay, but it all started with her when she got married.

I wish I had let him talk more.

Looking back, I should have stayed away at this point. I was looking for a place to stay, and I could have found somewhere. I still wanted her, and still wanted the relationship to work.

I once again compromised my own values, and paid the price.

Story learned -- stick with your gut. Listen to it.

Friday, July 24, 2009

Thanks to Everyone For Their Comments

Thanks to each of you for your comments. I don't respond to them so I can keep this blog anonymous but I truly appreciate them.

I've found that we each have a story to tell, and our stories are similar. Yet they're different. We each have something to contribute, and I welcome all of your contributions. What I write isn't gospel; it's merely my opinion, my feelings, my life, and how I have navigated in the past couple of years.

I welcome your differing opinions, your experiences, your battles. Why you came here and what you've found. How I can help make this better so we all can heal, or if we're almost through our healing, how we can grow into better, more enlightened people.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Saint Patrick's Day

After the relationship with the BPD ended, I had little interaction with her. She and I did not communicate because in a Borderline relationship, you cannot have contact with the partner. They will end up accusing you of horrible things that you probably did not do, but nonetheless, it's stressful and risky.

I had just received a bin full of my belongings from the Borderline. She left them, along with a container of Faultless starch, on my porch.

I felt terrible.

I felt angry.

I felt like it was time for me to be a single guy. Spend a night on the town, just hanging out, and being myself. Or, maybe do something else.

Maybe I find Bob.

Finding Bob -- Borderlines' Old Boyfriends Help Fill In The Missing Pieces

Bob was her last major Boyfriend. Bob had dated the BPD for 3 years, according to the BPD. She cheated on her now dead husband with Bob. Had a full-out affair, admitted it and stopped, then went back to the affair around the same time that her husband passed away in a drunk driving car accident.

From what the BPD told me, Bob was a narcissist:
- Bob cheated on her regularly
- Bob was charming and handsome, but mean underneath
- Bob watched pornography regularly and did nasty things to the BPD
- Bob victimized the BPD
- Bob mistreated the BPD
- Bob lied to the BPD regularly
- Bob was married but getting divorced when he was with the BPD
- Bob now has a restraining order from seeing the BPD because of the night they broke up. More about that in the future.

When I met the BPD and began dating her, she told me on the first date that she was victimized by a narcissist. She told me that Bob promised her the world, but just took advantage of her. I felt so bad for her, and I had such compassion for her because of what Bob did to her.

I wanted to find Bob and beat him up.

When the phone rang and she got hang ups, she said that it was Bob calling. So much that I eventually answered the phone so he would know that I was there and she was protected.

When we first moved in together, the BPDs parents told her that they were quite comforted because I would be there to take care of her.

Looking back, she took care of herself just fine. She made herself vulnerable to the world so she could take full advantage of it.

When we first started dating and she would act irrationally, abnormally or just plain crazy, I would tell her that this behavior was not acceptable. At first, it was so outrageous that it was cute, but eventually, I needed to understand the root cause.

The BPD would apologize profusely, telling me that she had been the victim of Bob, the narcissist, and that she had overreacted as a result. After hearing her story, I always felt bad for her, terribly bad, and I would accept her apology.

I would tell her, "Don't do it again."

She'd do it. Again and again.

Eventually, in her mind, I became Bob. Looking back, I think in the beginning, she thought of me poorly and treated me as such, but over time, her image of me as a narcissist strengthened, and she made everything into that. She changed history to fit that image of me, because only really screwed up people could love someone like her, in her mind.

Back to finding Bob. I decided to go out in the town that Bob lived. He was a public official and well-known, and it was the night where the town had its Saint Patrick Day's celebration. The town is a small city so finding him was not easy. I had tried before. a couple of times and could not find him.

I worried that I would have difficulty recognizing him. I had only seen him once, at a bar with the BPD, when she told me that he was there and pointed him out to me.

Oh, by the way, he had a restraining order against the BPD also. She had said that this was standard practice -- both parties have restraining orders against one another when there is an incident. So, he couldn't go near her and neither could she.

So, I went out that night by myself, enjoying myself immensely. I treated myself to sushi, walked around the town, had a couple of drinks, then settled having a few smokes (I was smoking back then -- wonder why) at the cigar bar.

As I'm sitting there, I notice Bob behind me. Holy crap. I recognized this guy right away -- right away -- in a huge crowd.

I went over to him right away and asked to speak with him, taking him to another part of the bar where we could talk privately.

I introduced myself to him, told him that I had been in a relationship with the BPD and told him the current situation. We spent the rest of the evening discussing things:

"Did you ever cheat on her," I queried?
"No, I was always true blue to her," he responded. "I was going to marry her."

Then I asked him a slough of other questions, including the night that they broke up and she told me that he beat her. "She beat me up," he responded. I didn't ask any additional questions about that, but clearly, stories didn't jive.

Then he told me a story about how she was a victim of her now dead husband. He told me that she said that he tried to strangle her, and that she cried to Bob about this.

I remember hearing the story, but it was never like this.

By the end of the night, it was clear that the BPD's stories were just that -- stories. We talked about girls that the BPD had told me that Bob was sleeping with while they were in a relationship, things that she had done while they were together (like sleeping with his best friend), and more.

This woman had wreaked havoc on this poor guy's life. After she was gone, he had ruined his marriage, his career had been impacted, and his friends were impacted.

Typical borderline.

So, there I was, a couple drinks in me, and I had just found everything out -- I had just discovered that all the things that she told me and I believed were lies, and she was merely projecting her lies onto me.

I send her a couple of text messages that night. The first one says, "Bob says hi." This one was in Bob's presence.

She replies, "that's mean."

I reply, "I know the truth now."

She replies, "so do I."

Then, I get ugly. I start sending me messages that say things like, "you cried to Bob that Jeff was an abuser, choking you, then you cry to me about Bob abusing you? You're a big fat f'ing liar."

I forget the rest but a sent her a flurry of messages that continued until about 4 a.m. -- probably about 5 in all, saying things like "you've hurt me so bad and accused me of being a monster when you're the monster. I just want to heal." I woke up early and sent another.

She didn't reply. That was the last time I ever communicated with her.

Since then, she has contacted the counselor that we both saw and told her that she feared for her safety because I hung out with Bob that night. The counselor told me to stay clear of her and that, "she's trying to take you down."

Also, she contacted the police on Father's Day of that year, indicating that I had broken into her online photo account and put pictures of myself online. I spoke with the officer for quite some time, indicating that I did nothing of the sort. We discussed my options -- get a restraining order against her, file harassment charges, or leave it be, and we decided to leave it be.

Borderline breakups are pure drama. Borderline relationships are pure drama. Borderline lives are pure drama -- that's how they get their identity. If you can, steer clear of them -- they'll shorten your lifespan and make your life much more stressful. No fun, long term.

Monday, July 20, 2009

The Last Bin

After we broke up, I always had a hint of trying to get back together with the BPD. I wanted to heal, but if she had come begging back to me and had promised to try to fix herself, I might have considered staying in the relationship.

After all, she and I had been together for nearly 2 years. I didn't want to throw that much history away, and if she could stabilize, I would have considered a reconciliation.

So, we had sent a flurry of text messages and emails back and forth during the early part of March, and of course, there was drama where she accused me of a bunch of things, was downright mean and nasty, then rejected me once again...all in a chain of emails and text messages.

Amazing. The BPD could make you feel terrible without even talking to you. The nice thing was that I didn't have my hopes up high.

I remember that even in our text messages, we were communicating well, then, she turned; it was like you could have snapped your fingers with the way that a Borderline turns on you.

If you're going through this or in a relationship with a Borderline, that's how you can tell that they're truly Borderline -- you could be on great terms and having a great time with them, and in the snap of your fingers, they'll turn on you for a reason that makes no sense to you.

Anyway, back to the story. We had communicated a number of times, but in the end, she once again pushed me away.

I would normally try to pull her back in. I was done. I knew that there was a big world out there, and remaining with her was only going to be detrimental to my well-being.

Take the Band-Aid off, Rhonda said.

I didn't try to get back in.

Thirty minutes later, she tried to pull me back in. She sent me a nearly illegible email telling me how much of a nasty, sick, demented person I really was, and how I was going to rot in Hell or something like that.

I got it now and wasn't falling for it anymore. So I didn't respond.

Man, that must have pissed her off.

I was moving on -- as best that I can. I had started dating, and was talking with a number of people.

I was trying to heal. Trying hard.

Take one day at a time, boy. Do the best that you can. Go to work, contribute, do the best that you can. Put one foot in front of another. Do the right thing.

The week is ending. I pick my kids up and take them back to my place. As I pull up, I notice one of my plastic bins outside my place.

Holy crap. How did that get there?

I bring the bin inside and inspect its contents. It's all things that I had left at the BPDs when I lived with her: my iron, some tools, things I had left in the garage, Christmas ornaments that I had bought for her and my kids, nothing really special.

Except one thing -- a can of spray starch -- called Faultless spray starch.

How poetically ironic. Faultless.

Of course, the BPD would accuse me of being Faultless. I always told her that I was human, that I made mistakes, just not the mistakes that she accused me of making.

Once again, I felt like I was going to cry. I called one of the girls I was dating and told her (she had become a confidante, or so I thought) what had happened and how I felt. She told me that I needed some more time alone, and to call her in around a month.

Wow. Get hit between the eyes then get kicked in the nuts in the same hour. Thanks.

So she had returned everything that was mine. Things were really over.

A part of me was sad.

A part of me was mad. How much mistreatment can one person take?

Not much more. It was my turn to settle the score and show her true nature to others. Time to find the world that she had before me so she would know that I knew.

It was time for the Saint Patrick's Day Celebration.

Next time, learn about Saint Patrick's Day and what happened.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Will a BPD Try To Contact You After The Relationship Has Ended?

So, will a BPD try to contact you after the relationship has ended?

It depends on the BPD.

Remember, most BPDs would also suffer from Narcissistic Personality Disorder, so they're quite possesive. If they have someone to replace you, you may not hear from them. If they don't, it depends.

Remember, the BPD likes to be the victim -- the vulnerable seductress, some call them. Because they like to be portrayed as such, they can't contact you. Then, how could they say, "you contacted me?"

They want you to beg them to come back to them. The more you go back, the more the abuse escalates. Believe me, I know.

Look at all the stories I've outlined here -- being kicked out, twice. But I went back. She could always say, "but he went back."

In the Borderline's mind, they're the victim, not you. They have to play the victim. If they come back to you, they're not the victim.

Some borderlines are so afraid of being alone that they'll break down and come to you. Many though, are so attractive that they can quickly latch onto someone new quite quickly.

The BPD may also contact you and accuse you of things. This is how my ex BPD contacted me after the relationship ended. She accused me of messing with her computer system and hacking into it. Downright goofy.

If others have urged you not to have contact with her, don't have any contact. They're looking out for your own good.

I know, it hurts. I know that you want to. You're addicted to the person.

It gets better, I promise. It takes over a year -- a full year -- to break the addiction. You can do it though. Do whatever you need to do -- recruit friends, pray, talk to a professional, read, pray some more.

You'll get through it.

Monday, July 6, 2009

The Goodbye Letter

We've all been there -- heartbroken from the termination of a relationship. Of course, the heartbreak felt from the termination of a BPD relationship is just a little more -- maybe a lot more -- traumatic. Combine this with all the other life events occuring -- changing jobs, moving, etc., and you've got a Perfect Storm.

So, we finally broke up in December, 2007. She stormed away, telling her that she'll never trust me, and I didn't follow her. I didn't really contact her. I read a number of books, namely one titled, Surviving the Loss of a Loved One/When Your Relationship Ends. Pretty basic, but good overall.

I was such an incredible sap when the relationship first was over. I cried all the time, was so was pathetic. Looking back, I can't believe it, but when you're so broken, you're broken. No excuses.

Anyway, the book recommended that I write a goodbye letter, recapping the good aspects of the relationship as well as the bad ones. They tell you that you don't have to necessarily give it to the person, but it's more a form of self-medication.

As I think you can see, I'm a writer. A professional writer also. I write when I'm happy, I write when I'm sad. I just...write all the time. It's how I express myself.

Of course I would write a letter. So I sat down, pulled out a pen and paper, and wrote the letter. I wrote goodbye to all the good things -- the fun times, the good things about her. Then I wrote goodbye to all the bad things, including her misery. It was good -- real good. I felt good about the letter.

The purpose of the goodbye letter is to mourn the relationship and help you put the relationship away. I wrote it in January, and did all the work that I was supposed to -- read the books, went to counseling, etc. In March, I decided that I would "put the relationship to bed" -- so I went down to Delaware, the place where she and I spent lots of time and I created a "Commitment Document" (the topic of another discussion, later), took the "Anchored Together" keychain that she bought for me, and threw it into the bay -- far into the bay.

I was feeling better -- not really. I was mourning the relationship and just wanted it to be over. Ironically, as I was getting to the place where I was going to throw the chain into the Bay, the song Landslide began to play:

I took my love, I took it down
Climbed a mountain and I turned around
I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills
till the landslide brought me down

Oh, mirror in the sky
What is love
Can the child within my heart rise above
Can I sail thru the changing ocean tides
Can I handle the seasons of my life

Well, Ive been afraid of changing
cause Ive built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Children get older
Im getting older too

Oh, take my love, take it down
Climb a mountain and turn around
If you see my reflection in the snow covered hills
Well the landslide will bring it down

If you see my reflection in the snow covered hills
Well maybe the landslide will bring it down

So, I cried more and more and threw the keychain into the Bay. Ironically, I was beginning to feel better. I had a whole box of her stuff, and I was going to throw it out--the pictures, the goodbye letter, the everything. I was so whacked that I even got a Valentines Day card for her.

Instead, I threw out everything. Except the Valentines Day card and the goodbye letter. Those, I dropped in her mailbox.

That started the second interaction with her. Before, we had traded text messages a couple of times, but nothing was really exchanged. I call the first interaction a couple of emails that we traded where I wrote to her something like, "you're right I'm a big liar," then I make a bunch of ridiculous statements about how I'm such an incredible liar.
They finished with statements that while she and I were dating, I had married someone else and they were living in the side of the mountain, in the woods, where I kept them from anyone. She later told me that she had believed my statements. Ugh.

This second one was a real exchange. It started a day or two after I dropped the letter and card, and lasted for about a week. I thought we had a chance at getting back together -- for about a minute or so.

At first, the exchange was calm, with both of us writing about how much we missed the relationship. Eventually though, like any exchange with a BPD, they need to start breaking down your walls so they can force their misery on you. They start telling you how bad you are, and how you've hurt them,. which begins their first trap. By the end, it was ugly. She was being downright mean and beligerant. Sometimes, she went as far as telling me, "you're screwing with me," when, of course, I was only trying to treat her as good as possible.

It was real bad.
Her true colors came out once again.

In the middle of these exchanges, the kind side of her would come out. I remember her telling me to be sure that I turn my clock ahead for daylight savings then good night. It was wierd. It was totally borderline.

At the end, she told me that we were not meant to be together, and that she was moving on. Then, she sent me a nasty, delusional email about 30 minutes after this, calling me a character in one of my writings (a demented character). I never responded to her about that, to this day, which is nearly 1-1/2 years later.

That's how the Goodbye Letter ended. In misery.

Saint Patrick's Day to follow.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Interactions With The BPD Since The Relationship Terminated

I've written about all of these feelings I've had since the relationship terminated, but I haven't indicated how many interactions we have had. Sooo, let me fully dislose that and tell you about each of those times as they're all quite interesting. In fact, stay tuned, because I'll fully describe each interaction as they each could use some detail. July should be a fun month in the world of BPD Recovery!

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Can You Fully Recover From a BPD Relationship?

When I first embarked on my journey after being in the relationship with the BPD, I never thought that I could get back to normal. But what really is normal, I would think.

The books and forums say, do the work. The only way you can heal yourself from a relationship with someone suffering from Borderline Personality Disorder is if you Do The Work.
  • Figure out why you were in the relationship.
  • Figure out what drew you to that person.
  • Shed the BPD tendencies that you inherited from being in a long-term relationship with a BPD.
  • Feel comfortable with yourself again. In a word, be comfortable in your own skin.
  • Shed any codependent tendencies that may have gotten you into the relationship
  • Learn to love yourself, not loathe yourself

So you go to counseling. You read book after book after book. Then you read some more. You get dismissed from counseling because you are back to "content," but you need more. You don't know what it is, so you read some more.

Then you find The Lord, which fills the hole. You learn about spirituality and what it's like to take yourself, your partner and your kids out of the center of your universe and replace it with another -- God.

Suddenly, things seem to make sense. Don't get me wrong, this doesn't require cataclysmic change. When you're ready, it's there, and it's so simple. I went to church and found what I had been looking for. Suddenly, the pain was still there, but it had lessened.

Don't get me wrong -- putting all of this together took some time-- about a year after I first went to church. I was still hurting when I was fooling myself and saying I'm healed in this blog, silly me. I wanted to be healed so badly.

Time Heals The Wounds
It's true, but time certainly does heal the wounds. Over time, if you have done the work, the pain diminishes until it's all but gone.

Your life is so different now. It's so calm, and for the most part, you're content. You still want some things to be different, but something has happened. You understand everything a little better. You're now older, wiser, and much more appreciative.

Sunsets are once again glorious and spectacular. When the sun rises in the morning and you're fortunate enough to witness them, you realize how thankful you are for having such a special, privileged life and such wonderful friends and family.

You're a different person. But you're the same. You've refined yourself, made yourself a little less vulnerable and have come to understand much more. You've grown into the person that you've always wanted to be.

Being in a relationship with a person afflicted with Borderline Personality Disorder is one of the toughest things that a person can go through. You'll never feel more ripped apart when the relationship ends. It's like a drug addict that needs their fix, the non needs the BPD to idealize and then demonize them. When it ends, you're lost. Completely lost and utterly alone.

When the relationship with the BPD ends, it's an opportunity to become the person that you always dreamed. It's a wonderful growth opportunity, although you will not always know it. It will be the toughest thing that you do, probably ever. Career challenges, raising children, and doing intense athletic events such as triathalons and marathons pale by comparison. Those events are short-lived -- this lasts for quite some time.

When you get through it, you'll be an amazing person.

Yes, you can fully recover from a BPD relationship. You must commit to recovering and do the work. Then, life will be wonderful.