Hey all. I'm thinking of starting a blog to journal through my BPD and Sex &amp; Love Addiction. This is something I would post. I wanted to see if anyone related. Don't read if you feel Unloveable as I'm not too far along in SLAA.

When I started this post, I wanted to open with the first time I felt utterly unloveable. 


It was, of course, Valentine's Day. I was in second grade. The night before I spent eagerly picking my Valentines for the class. We were required to give one to everyone to avoid feeling left out. 


But you always picked the special ones for the people you really liked. I remember begging my mom to get ninja turtles. Because Anthony loved Ninja Turtles. 


Everyone else got generic ones. Sponge Bob and Barbie themed with lollypops. Anthony, of course, got two extra. I wanted him to know he was special. 


But of course, he likely didn't notice. While I peered across the classroom to see how the one he gave me compared to everyone else's. They were the same. But I didn't care. I kept it on the top of my stack so I could look at it the entire bus ride home.


When you're bullied as a kid, the worst part of the day is the bus.


And that's when it happened. One of the popular girls, Tara, turned to me and asked if I had an "actual Valentine."


I told her no and her response was, "Yeah. No one will ever love you because you have blonde hair."


I kept quiet and watched the trees and houses pass by through the window.


That statement, which was totally insane, even by 2nd grade standards, revealed more about Tara's self esteem than mine.


But I internalized it anyway. She was right, I was unloveable.


And that brings me back to my original point. I realized I wanted to blame Tara. That would make this all so much easier, right? But that's what addicts do. We blame.


Tara's words were so hurtful for me because it brougham something that was already rooted in me to the surface.


I was born with a deep void and insatiable hunger. 


I always felt there was something missing in me. 


I used everything I could to fill it. Anorexia. Overeating. Pills. Alcohol. A lot of Alcohol. Sex. 


But all of that was just a supplement for my first true addiction. Love.