I read a lot of threads here from people who are being subjected to horrible abusive and traumatic experiences (I hate to see that that's happening to anyone out there, and I root for you), but I've yet to see anyone open up about any abuses they may have inflicted on others. I guess I would have thought that more people would be posting about the guilt they felt from some of their impulsive and irrational actions taken out at the expense of others, because isn't that typical behavior for those of us with BPD? I don't know. I was fairly recently diagnosed and am learning a lot still about this disorder, and one of the things I'm struggling so much with is the guilt of my own past actions. So I'll open up some about my own; guess I'm just looking for support and empathy.

The ending of the 2 big relationships I've entered in my life were triggering for me. Wound up in mental hospitals both times, first time for screaming suicidal desires, second for actually attempting. That second relationship should not have ever existed really, 2 people not right for each other, but really in the last 2.5 years of the 6.5 years together, we were so far past expired. She didn't want me anymore, she pretty much thought she was straight, and I couldn't take it. I couldn't let her leave me. The first girl had cheated on me with my male best friend, and actually every girl I had dated jumped quickly to having sex with men right after, so eager to *really* lose their virginity. I myself struggle with gender dysphoria, constantly wondering if I want to be a man or woman or be with a man or woman, while actually having lived a decade of my life (14yo - 24yo) dressing super butch and identifying as a lesbian. And yeah, when this girl who once appeared to adore me above all else, wanted to leave me, eagerly wanted to be with a man because I wasn't actually a man, just pretend kind of, this really beautiful girl who could easily get with any man she so desired, when she wanted to leave me and I knew all our friends would soon see her with a guy, and never again with a girl, while I remained single and ugly (this is where my head was then, not so much now) well they'd all just know what a weak failure of a person I was. That's how it felt. So I begged her to stay, years of crying and screaming, I mean, it wasn't 2.5 years of sheer begging and force that kept her with me. I did once really leave her for like a month and she cried that she wanted me back, there were parts of her that still loved me and wanted me, even now that we've been over almost a year she did contact me once saying sometimes she still wishes we were together. So of course part of her loved me, I think part of her loved the abuse, (which I'll get to), part of her was scared of it too, but I do think the main thing that kept her with me was just not wanting to hurt me, which in a way I'm so very thankful for, because I could've been in prison if it weren't for her protection.

So the abuse. It started at a point where after a series of events I just knew she really wanted to experience of being with a man, both sexually and emotionally. It forced me to really confront mentally the notion that I'd been pushing to the back of my mind for years, that she was never really attracted to me. Never lusted for me, my body did nothing for her, pleasing me gave her no pleasure, only what I did to her was stimulating to her. And one night she went out clubbing and I don't know, I picked her up and she was drunk, and she just returned home not the girl that was in love with me. That girl never returned to me again. That night I knew she didn't love me, suspected cheating even and sure enough she had almost cheated. She had texted a guy she'd hooked up with while we were on a break that she wanted to suck his dick, told him to pick her up, but he couldn't and yup she ended up having to settle for my dumb ass to go get her. I didn't know that til weeks later, all I did see that night was that he wrote to her through snapchat, but the previous messages were gone already. And well, she was passed out drunk and I kept shaking her to wake her up, violently, and then I started hitting her. She wouldn't wake up for a while, but when she did, I think I hit her still or at least pushed her. Weeks later when I found out the above info, and other things too, I know I pushed her, probably shook her some too. And Idk, of course we should've ended there but I wanted to make her change, to go back to pretending we loved each other, neither of us ever really did, but instead it was 2.5 years of similar style of fighting. It wasn't every day or week. We prob went months even with no events, but when things got bad it got real bad, and I was really the abuser. I'm taller and bigger, and I tended to start it. And of course, I was the butch. It just has a complete different look and feel than if a femme is hitting her masculine girlfriend. And yeah, I always feel a need to point out that it was never like beatings, like broken bones, never kicking, never closed fist punches, but I bruised her a least once by holding her. She gave me a bruised eye a couple times, she bit me once or twice too, both in offense and defense. I wasn't always the one who started. I almost never hit her with full force. But once I slapped her really hard while we were both lying down in bed arguing, maybe full force there. I choked her twice, that's hard to write. Never for long, 2 seconds, but passionate, and honestly it felt so good, I wanted to fucking choke her all the time. Wow this is hard to write. Shit, I'd even thought about killing her, and in fact in the hospital they'd asked me that and I told them truth, I told them the complete truth because it was either that or I was just gonna kill myself straight after. And the hospital even had to phone her to let her know that I'd thought about killing her, in case she wanted a restraining order. Before the hospital she'd threatened me with getting one twice. Wasn't like I stalked her though, not really. So like toward the end when we were dating we'd fight and she kick me out of her house and I wouldn't let her, wouldn't leave her alone. The night before I ended up in the hospital I had spent the whole day preparing to kill myself at my job when my boss left. I got drunk and tied a noose with a fat extension cord in the bathroom, but I just couldn't do it. I was scared of the pain. I contemplated jumping, but again pain. So I didn't know what to do or where to go. We were broken up at this point, and she wouldn't answer or return my calls. So I went to her house, I figured her parents weren't there because I didn't see the car and I just rang and rang and rang the bell and called. No answer, my mom started calling me, oh it went on til dawn I think. My mom drove by twice and i hid nearby. I just wanted to be in my ex's presence. I knew she wouldn't take me back, I had no intentions of asking but I just wanted to be comforted by her I guess, stupid because I never even found her that comforting. And eventually they called the cops. And they had to call them twice because I'd hid again. Finally I went to her house at the wrong time I guess and the cops were there, and she came out and one cop kinda pushed her to just talk to me, and I wanted to hug him tbh, while the other told her she didn't have to and I had to just leave her. And I knew that cop was completely right, and everything I was doing was so wrong. She came out and didn't talk to me. She tearily said no. I'll wrap things up here, next day I swallowed a bunch of pills and didn't die and yoke up in the hospital.

So I've been trying to cope with so much since then, and yeah my head goes back and forth from hey let's give life a chance and try to be happy, and nah end this shit already. And the guilt I feel from the past is just something so hard to swallow. Makes me fear my own self, and also just feels like I'm a bad person. Even if things never get that ugly again, how I was capable of all that in the first place. And then when I read these stories of people who are being physically and verbally abused here, well it makes me feel like damn, I didn't even have it that bad to carry on as I did, and also damn, I inflicted that pain on someone else. Is there anyone else struggling to overcome such guilt? What do we do?

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