reflecting back on my life in the past, fuck man, my BPD was bad. my FP was this girl named Olivia, i saw her on the school bus one day in 6th grade i believe, and as soon as i saw her, fell in love. became instantly obsessed to the point where this went on until i was 16, when i say obsessed, i don’t think there’s a better example of an FP than what the hell she was. she had a boyfriend luckily, because she would’ve been god awful for my mental health, but at the time it sucked because i wanted her so badly. my entire day would be dependent on whether she were on the bus or not, if i did not see her, it was not a good day, i would be agitated, annoyed, snotty, and just generally a bad person to be around if i did not get my fix. the thing is, before we eventually became friends later in life, the only thing i ever said to her was “what’s your name?”, and she responded “Olivia.” and i just nodded and became so nervous that my heart felt like it was going to fall out, and i had this mix of embarrassment and being proud of myself for managing to work up the confidence to even speak to her. one day she never came on the bus again, and i split eventually after not seeing her for so long, the feelings just kinda faded, but i still remembered her vividly. then, freshman year, i’m sitting in my spanish class on one of the first days of school, and in walks Olivia, i nearly fucking fainted. just like before, at first glance, in love, obsessed, but it was 10x worse this time. my obsession with this girl was absolutely insane, she lived about an hour away from me and i made my dad drive me to her house in the middle of a blizzard to bring her a phone in hopes she’d see that i really wanted to be at least be friends with her, all i wanted was her attention, my life literally depended on whether or not i was getting attention from her. i forget how i found out what her snapchat was, i think she popped up in my quick add, and i debated for days about adding her but eventually made a bet with my best friend of 7 years now that if i made the shot i was about to take with J.R. Smith in NBA 2K, that i’d pull the trigger and just add her, i made the shot. from that point on, i don’t think there was a point that there was an hour that went by where i didn’t check her location or her snap score at least 20 times, i would text her and she’d whenever she would leave me on delivered or read i would either sob, want to kill myself, want to text her again, or just get angry at her, or all of those things at once, it was mainly all of them at once. once i found out that she lived around the corner from me, my life became a shit show, i would ride past this girls house on my bike every single day of the summer, or i’d walk past frequently, hoping she was outside. in class, i’d pretend to sleep because she would sleep, or i’d actually just fall asleep. the first time we actually hung out, was the first time i ever got high, which was fucking awesome, i wish i could still get high without dissociation and feeling like i’m dying. but, me her and her boyfriend hung out, smoked some weed out of their bong towards the very end of the night (they gave me WAY too much lmao, but i was high as fuck), and i sat there rocking back and forth while they stared at me in disbelief laughing at me because i was so high, and i was really amazed at how great everything felt. but, i went home, and the obsession just kept growing. we hung out like once or twice more, before not hanging out again for maybe about a year or two, but by that point, i had split on her completely. i haven’t felt actual feelings for Olivia even before i developed depersonalization, because i had gotten into a relationship, and the feelings for her just literally died one day, and i was like oh, cool. i did have a tiny crush on her when we did start hanging out again, but it was nothing like an FP. the countless hours, days, and nights i spent trying to almost become her, learn about her interests, her music, her in general, obsessing constantly for years, it’s dreadful, it’s absolutely terrible, and looking back now, it’s like, why do i even question if i have BPD or not? that’s literally a fucking textbook example of a favorite person, even my counselor says i fit the criteria and he thinks i have it, that’s basically a diagnosis. i have quiet BPD, but BPD is BPD. i thought i’d share the story of my first FP because it was the most intense fucking feeling ever and i just realized how bad it actually was.