
I am tired of it living in my head alone. :( 

I (22F) was diagnosed with BPD officially 7 months ago. I always had therapists and doctors growing up that suggested I had it because when they spent prolonged periods of times with me, they didn’t it see it as anxiety or depression(which was my usual diagnosis growing up) they saw BPD. and on the quiet spectrum. 

i haven’t done insane amounts of research, partially because im afraid to be labeled. i have had very abusive ex’s and family members. to the point where i used to question my reality. i am just trying to work on keeping myself in a stable place, focus on college, and again- just work on the calm. not the highs, not the lows. I feel like my life is a never ending cycle of explosive emotions. One second I’m riding this high, laughing for hours, genuinely happy. The next second, I’m unable to see how I can be that happy and it’s a question of when I’ll be there again. 

I always wanted to get this off my chest though. This is my main source of pain that I never get to talk about. I was 16 when I met the first “love of my life”. I loved him with so much passion I quite literally thought I could not live without him, although I had lived 16 whole years before him. But wait. There’s a twist. He was 21, almost 22 at the time. He was a predator who claimed that it was okay because he “loved me”. My mom found out 6 months into our relationship and did the right thing, she reported it to the police. I was immature though, and hated her for it at the time. In the winter, I was investigated. It was the classic one table, two chairs, one way glass, and a yellow file that was slapped onto the table with the stamps [JUVENILE] on it by a white, dominant male who pretended to be my friend. It was traumatizing. He asked me terms I embarrassingly had to ask for clarification. like digital. it was beyond uncomfortable. what’s worse is I’m not a liar. I hid evidence because I felt like I needed to protect the person I love, but I wasn’t dishonest about anything I said. I do not even remember what I said. However it was humiliating because they read all my texts, my parents read all my texts, my ex’s parents did. It was a nightmare. An invasion of privacy. 

Fast forward, I was blamed. I was blamed for not keeping 100% quiet, not understanding the legal standings. I mean, I lost access to the internet and my car by my parents after they found out. I was blamed by him, and I was blamed by HIS parents. They told me they would shoot me on sight if I ever stepped onto their property. They defended their sons actions. It’s like I walked around with all this guilt and shame but I was the victim. My mother even got flowers at work from friends after this happened... while I was suffering in a dark room alone listening to music so loud on repeat because an MP3 was all I had. 

Now that is only 6 months of content, and a case that went on for another 6. It’s interesting too because he has a completely clean record and had house checks and to not contact me for 1 year, even though there was pretty clear evidence that he statutory raped me. Although what’s more fucked up is we talked that entire year over discord. 

This lasted a total of 4 years. I ended it and left when I was late 19 and that’s the most proud of myself I will most likely ever be. I possessed that much strength to leave someone who mentally &amp; physically abused me and let me feel like my reality wasn’t real. I remember vividly I was crying on the phone once because he had said something extremely hurtful and demeaning. He asked me why the fuck I was crying to which I replied and restated what he told me. I block memories out, I can’t remember it word for word, just the essence. and then he was like “why the fuck, [name], would I say that? why do you always put words in my mouth” and I remember being so confused and hurt. Like I wasn’t crying because I’m manipulative... anyway I cried and said do I need to record our phone calls? do you really think that I would lie? And that was a pattern for years. 

I just feel like ive had so much happen to me(maybe partially it’s my fault for not finding the strength to leave sooner), but my dad left when I was 5. He reached out to me when I was 18, on Father’s Day. Saying it was all my moms fault, and sadly, I just know that’s not true. He wants comfort from ME. his daughter that HE LEFT. I had another dad(step) when I was like 6-10 and I loved him. But one day, he got on a plane and left with no goodbye. I sat in the corner of my room, hugging my knees. In later years I knew he still kept in contact with my mom and brother over video games. I play video games, but I never heard anything. Then I got another dad when I was maybe 12 or something. My mom forced me to call him dad and I hated it. I refused to and threw fits. I would have crying tantrums and freak out and my mom would hit me with a belt to get me to stop. Fast forward... I love my family... I think I do. I love my step dad, he stuck around and he’s been a consistent factor in my life. I actually respect and look up to him so much. 

I don’t know where this vent is going. I just feel so much all the time. I know it’s my responsibility to seek help and I plan to once this semester is over, I just never really get to tell anyone this. Not even my parents. Not even my closest friends. It’s like no one really knows how dark my darkest moments were. It’s painfully excruciating. 

But I keep on. I tell myself if I genuinely keep trying and doing my best, it will be manageable and I will get through this to see a better day. I believe in that. Everyone tells me I have so much insight and perspective and that I’m a soul that lights up a room when she walks in it. That I’m incredibly strong. It’s hard to feel like that person though, honest