Save Your Soul: Borderline Torture

It's one of those stories that you hate to tell, but it's true. One of those examples of abuse by a borderline. One that when you look back, you can't believe that you put up with it.

The problem is that when you look back, it was so strange and bizarre, so much something that you cannot explain, that you just block it out. However, when you look back, you know that it was detrimental.

One Sunday, the borderline fires up the stereo and puts on the Jewel song, "Who Will Save Your Soul." Then she comes to me, looks at me, and starts singing the lyrics.

People living their lives for you on TV
They say they're better than you and you agree
He says "Hold my calls from behind those cold brick walls"
Says "Come here boys, there ain't nothing for free"
Another doctor's bill, a lawyer's bill
Another cute cheap thrill
You know you love him if you put in your will

Who will save your soul when it comes to the flower
Who will save your soul after all the lies that you told, boy
Who will save your soul if you won't save your own?

We try to hustle them, try to bustle them, try to cuss them
The cops want someone to bust down on Orleans Avenue
Another day, another dollar, another war, another tower
Went up where the homeless had their homes
So we pray to as many different God's as there are flowers
But we call religion our friend
We're so worried about saving our souls
Afraid that God will take His toll
That we forget to begin

Who will save your soul when it comes to the flower
Who will save your soul after all the lies that you told, boy
Who will save your soul if you won't save your own?

Some are walking, some are talking, some are stalking their kill
You got social security, but that don't pay your bills
There are addictions to feed and there are mouths to pay
So you bargain with the Devil, say you're OK for today,
You say that you love them, take their money and run
Say it's been swell, sweetheart, but it was just one of those things
Those flings, those strings you've got to cut,
So get out on the streets, girls, and bust you butts.

Who will save you soul when it comes to the flower
Who will save you soul after all the lies that you told, boy
Who will save your soul if you won't save you own?

I was dumbfounded. She was convinced that I was telling lies, telling more lies, telling more lies. These were the things that chipped away at you, slowly but surely, you slowly but surely have more and more taken away from you.


When the person that you love, that you are willing to spend your life with, is telling you about lies that you've told, it hurts, plain and simple. How could she think such things about me? How could she tell me that I am lying to her when I tell her, time and time again, that I'm being honest?
- All the three hours talks
- All the efforts
- All the time that I spent trying to make her feel more comfortable
- All the lunchtimes I spent with her trying to make her feel comfortable
- All the fights that I accepted responsibility for things that I didn't do wrong
- The times that she kicked me out of her house and changed the locks, twice, but I came back because I thought she understood


It didn't matter. She still thought that I was telling lies. Unfortunately, that's a mental disorder for you.


That's what I realized, no matter how much I didn't want to admit it. I couldn't change her. No matter how much I tried, no matter how much goodness I tried to infuse into the relationship, her anxieties and fears overruled them.


I obviously took missteps also. I'm a free spirit, so those with control issues have difficulties being with me. She misinterpreted many of my intentions, whether it was her disorder or my outlook I'm not sure.


Regardless, playing a song like this, "Who will save your soul after all the lies you told, boy," after all you've tried to make her feel comfortable, is just mean and heartless, and abusive.


Another sign to get out. Don't accept the unacceptable.

The Me Project Is Changing

I started this blog over two years ago in an attempt to heal from a highly dysfunctional relationship. A relationship that I didn't understand that I needed to work through. One that left me feeling hurt, confused, scared, unsure of myself...all the things that you don't want when leaving a relationship.

When in a borderline relationship, there are too many things that are about the person inflicted with Borderline Personality Disorder:

- You are constantly making your partner feel good about themselves, alleviating them of their misery

- You are always helping them and supporting them with their constant self-loathing

- You continually are on your guard, waiting for the next time that the borderline will attack you, which will probably be just when you try to let your guard down for a moment

So, when you leave the relationship, you need to make things about you, for a change.

That's how the Me Project was born. Coming out of the relationship, I was hurting, hurting like I hadn't hurt before. So emotionally scarred, soft and tender, in so much pain, trying to get through each day, sometimes trying to get through each hour.

Those were bad times. I wouldn't wish them on anyone. I remember sitting at my family's house on Christmas 2007, tears running down my eyes as I laid on the couch. So alone after I had put so much into this relationship. I got nothing back and walked away feeling terrible -- probably another indication of such a dysfunctional relationship.

Over the next six months, I healed. Sometimes I felt great, while other times, not so great. I regressed quite a bit in March when we traded emails and text messages, then continued my recovery through the year.

Today, nearly two years after she and I last saw one another, I can say that I have healed. I have let go, I have forgiven her from the pain she inflicted on me, and I have moved on.

While the Me Project continues, this blog is no longer about me.

It's about each of you.

It's about you recovering Non's that have just learned that the person you dated (or are dating) probably has Borderline Personality Disorder.

It's about you Non's that just had your heart broken, ripped into shreds, by someone that you think is BPD.

It's about those of you that are recovering from a highly dysfunctional relationship. You don't know what happened, but you just feel raw. Like someone pulled a rug out from under your feet, and you landed on your head. Hard.

It's about you that suspect that you have Borderline Personality Disorder. You just don't get what your partners are screaming about. Why they keep saying these things to you and what it means.

So, the time for myself on this blog has now changed. I'll continue to provide life updates and tell my stories, but I'm also going to use material that you send me (send to mybpdrecovery@blogspot.com).

Thanks to each of you for helping to shape this blog -- please continue shaping this blog as we move into the future. Send me your comments, questions and general rants.

Welcome to the Us Project. It's not just my recovery anymore; it's yours too.

The Firehouse: BPD Drama At Its Best

The firehouse was the best example of BPD drama and the way that borderlines view their lives as a movie. To fully understand the borderline and her boyfriend Bob, read the past few posts, then read Saint Patrick's Day as well as the More About Bob posts.

Before I start, let me say that this is the Borderline's story, so I cannot validate the story's validity. I later found from Bob that they both had restraining orders against them and that she was convicted on charges of making terroristic threats.

The Borderline said that she was done with the relationship and going to break up with him. When they went to their normal bar to spend the night together, she told him and he asked her to take a ride with him. Of course, she obliged.

When they took a ride, he took her to a local fire house. He worked as a fire fighter in this local town and the town had multiple houses through the small city. This one was pretty far out.

She said that at this point, she said that she wanted to go home, and he retorted, "you're not going anywhere," grabbing her arm and pulling her into the firehouse.

Inside the firehouse, they went to the top floor. Arguing and eventually fighting, she said that he grabbed her and was going to throw her out the window. She screamed for help out the window to people leaving the local gym, but no one would come. He beat on her, and she could do nothing.

They had been drinking on the third floor, and she smashed a beer bottle off, threatening to cut him with the beer bottle. He then pushed her down the stairs, and she rolled down all of the stairs, he came after her, spraying her with a fire extinguisher.

Somehow, she got out of his clutch and got out of the building. She ran to a local police station. He gave chase and caught her outside the police station, right around a lot full of parked police cars. At this point, she appeased him, saying that she wanted to be back with him, and began to kiss him. He calmed down, kissing her back and beginning to fondle her.

She then hit him and took off, screaming for help. There were police officers outside the building who paid attention to her, heard her and came to her. They brought her inside, her blouse torn to shreds.

Bob came walking up, an officer of the town who worked for the fire department and on the planning board, trying to explain.

After hours of questioning, she was let go and Bob was arrested. He was convicted and forced to go through anger management counseling on her request.

"She [the judge] threw the f*^#ing book at me," Bob told me in our brief conversation on Saint Patrick's Day. He said that when they met, she beat him up and that he was merely defending himself. He also said that she was convicted on charges of making terroristic threats. At one point, the BPD actually had made terroristic threats at me, saying when I moved into my apartment, "if anyone else has been here, I'll make you wish that they never were," or something threatening like that.

The firehouse drama continued up until the trial, according to the BPD. Before the trial, friends of Bob were threatening her, "if you press charges, you'll wish that you never did." They testified about how the BPD performed sexual acts with Bob in public, at bars and in other strange places.

As I write this, I'm disgusted that I was with a woman that lacked any integrity. These are perfect examples of her true character and my Dulcinea Syndrome.

She told me that when they drove to the trial, she and her father saw Bob, and Bob yelled to her, "I love you."

Drama, Drama, Drama.

I'm not sure how much of this story is real, what is true and what is conjured up. Clearly, this was BPD drama in its true glory, and the perfect ending to a BPD story of drama. The movie ends the way a movie is supposed to end.

When I saw Bob and talked with him, his attorney was going to contact her and request that she lift the restraining order against him, as he was then about to be Captain of the Fire Squad. Not sure if it every happened, but the cycle continued.

I wonder if more drama came of the whole situation. Only time will tell.