I wanted to express some minor meanderings, seeing as I never write and I'm forever beating myself up for not doing so. I got diagnosed with BPD about 2 and a half years ago. I say minor because what I hope will become crucial to you throughout this text is, that anything you think, say, act or feel is inconsequential. 

After leaving an MA that I had a full scholarship for, I became a hermit of sorts, after losing social grace, a girlfriend, my beloved cat, my entire family; I became a stalker, checking on all of my ex girlfriends at any opportunity. There was some sort of a macabre satisfaction in viewing what you once had with ease, and knowing if you actually cared it would still be sitting in your bowl. I like to write in this way to show the shadow, something that is not absent even in the most angelic of hearts, as without accepting the darkness within us all we fail to realise the fundamentally bigger picture. 

I've always wondered if this was accurate, or whether meeting what I presumed to be two malicious, psychopathic witches, were actually damaged young girls defending themselves from a man somewhat less damaged (from parental interventions and bombardments). Upon being confronted with my true shadow, the dark end of morality I had so easily posited and even more so easily projected upon anyone unwilling to validate me completely and wholly, in the image I had created for myself. Fully man, yet more emotional than a pregnant woman. The awareness of derivation of character and the forming of it throughout childhood became an obsession. 

Losing someone you held throughout the entirety of your 20's, your best friend, your confidant, your lover. It's hard to accept that it's gone - for anyone in that situation. I have known people who have had one partner their whole life and fair play to them. But for me, I had to confront myself until we became friends. I had to analyse and subsect and answer every beckoning call that came from beneath my subconscious mind. Only then did I become content. Full of stress, full of anger, full of idea of revenge... but content. 

It is only know I realise that me blaming other people for my situation, for my mind, for my mood - is utterly ridiculous. Really put yourself on your own. Don't let up. Torture yourself until you can't take it anymore. Until there is nobody else to grasp attention from. Until all your boy cried wolf lives are up. Be the 2 year old in his crib who nobody comes to aid. Only then do you reparent yourself out of survival instinct. Only through more rough than smooth can BPD be cured, for me at the very least. Without a battle how can such high awareness be satisfied?