[If you have the time, PLEASE either read this entire post (or if not) skip to the last 2 paragraphs. I would like as much input and perspective as possible. Thank you.]

Sorry if this is scrambled. I am so scrambled. So hurt. So terrified. So guilty. I can't even focus on how to put any of these overwhelming emotions into words that could just never do them justice. The epitome of ineffable. There is so much to say. It's almost impossible to know where or how to begin. There's no way I can cover everything. And there are inevitably going to be situations, thoughts, or feelings that are interpreted or inferred in a way other than my intention. But I am going to do my best. So here we go.

First, I guess I should mention that mental health is my undying passion. And by 'undying passion', I mean it is one of the sole things that gives my life the absolute most meaning and purpose. It is everything to me. I grew up with social anxiety for the first 23 years of my life. All of the emotion and pain and torment that came in those 23 years is more than fathomable for me. My social anxiety is what made me who I am today. At times I have hated my anxiety for the ways that it had tortured me. I have thought, "I could have made so many more memories and meaningful relationships growing up". But to do that would to have given up my struggle and my anxiety which is a part of my legacy. It is the most important part of who I am. Through the numbness, the pain, the sadness, and all of the negative experiences that social anxiety granted me, I would not trade them for anything in the world. I had to give some background information for my story to really make sense to anyone.

My social anxiety is what gives me so much perspective in this world. I have woken up as one person and gone to sleep as another. I have felt unimaginable pain for such extended periods of time, I could easily convince myself that life isn't really real. Nothing is real. I have memories from preschool hiding in the bathroom thinking "I hope no one finds me. If they find me I'll be in trouble. Please no one come in here. Please please please." Same thing for middle and high school. I felt constant guilt for reasons I absolutely could not put into words. I constantly felt negative emotions - be it numb, empty, alone, jealous, scared, guilty. The guilt of, "My friends and family deserve better. How could I have them in my life and still feel this way. I am so selfish. I have the perfect life. Perfect friends, family, school, boyfriend, life, everything. But still. Still I feel like this." Feeling guilt when I would get a pang of jealousy when someone would laugh whole-heartedly. Would I ever in my life be able to laugh like that and truly feel it? I'd feel shame when people would simply say, "You're so quiet." DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY I'M SO QUIET?!?!? My brain is f*ed up. That's why. Tears would fill my eyes as I looked away. Even more shame when people would say, "You always look so happy and smiling." IF YOU ONLY KNEW THE TRUTH. Not I'm practically lying to people. They think I'm so happy. How can they not see this oh-so-tangible pain? Delusions filled my mind. I had myself convinced that perhaps everyone is suffering just as intensely, but nobody is talking about it because no one wants to admit to that personal failure, to that pain, or to the fact that there's something (and who knows what the f) is wrong with their brain. I really thought that everyone was suffering silently. My social anxiety was so severe that at times I believed I was suffering from Cotard delusion (look it up if you haven't heard of it). The only way I can describe it is that it felt like "a piece of my brain is missing." Like... where is my brain??? Where is it??? I could spend hours doing nothing and not really realizing it. It took me hours to do things it would take other people 10 minutes to do. Looking people in the eye and feeling numb or like wanting to cry for no reason did not and could not make sense to me. I was constantly googling mental health remedies, supplements, etc to figure out what I could do for something I couldn't even really attempt to put in words. Reading other peoples' stories of suffering made me feel better and worse simultaneously. Googling "why does it feel like I'm dead", "I can't hear or remember things when people are talking to me", "hangovers make me feel like I'm out-of-this-world or not alive", "brain fog", etc etc etc is how I spent all my free time. And it didn't mean much because I could never really focus on or remember what I was reading. But it was the thought that I'm not alone that pulled me through.

I started consistent treatment 2 years ago. It took one SSRI. That's it. That changed my world around. Though it felt like decades, I slowly lost a part of what I always considered myself. My anxiety. But guess what? My anxiety wasn't me. I realized that I AM ME. NOT MY ANXIETY. And that separation of self vs disorder became so much more possible as my treatment went along. I am now at the point where I can enjoy my time talking to, joking with, and communicating with other people. It's very strange. I considered the first 1-2 years of treatment as "how to function/feel/live" as a human being who is not overcome with pain, confusion, and misery. And I must say, I love it. Turns out my personality is exactly what I want it to be. And I don't have to fake it or try as I used to. I am weird, bubbly, and find such great joy in being with other people. I had never had that experience. Because my personality was still me while I was suffering, I was able to make the truest, most loyal friends growing up. I don't even know how I was able to do it through my pain. But I did. My self esteem rose from 0 to 100. The world is a different place. Everything is better. one of the only things that TRULY fascinates me is the brain. We are literally nothing but our brain. The brain is our everything. Our outlook, our perception, our reality, our world: and mine has changed so drastically. Look at what it can do. Look at all the pain, joy, emotion and everything it can cause. De-stigmatizing any and all mental health conditions is my greatest purpose. Teaching kids early signs and symptoms. Teaching why de-stigmatizing is so crucial in our world. And even when mental health is stigmatized in subtle ways, it can have a profound impact (She's so bipolar, My OCD is so bad, man he's psychotic, Oh you work on a mental health unit with all the crazies huh?). I will never judge anyone. Ever. Ever. For what they are going through. You don't blame a dog for having a dog brain. You don't blame a baby for crying. Then why should it be okay to stigmatize against too much dopamine in a certain part of the brain? or an over-active amygdala? or an imbalance of neurotransmitters. It's science. Everything that is psychological is biological. That's a fact. I even empathize with psychopaths, sociopaths, pedophiles, and all the worst kind of people you can think of. Let me make it clear that I do not accept or condone any of their behaviors (though I hope that goes without saying). But fact is, we are our brain. I could have easily been born a pedophile. GOD I HOPE I WOULDN'T ACT ON IT. But the point is, every kind of brain that can exist, will exist. We as people have to accept that. How do we help these people? How do we keep the mentally suffering safe? How do we keep everyone safe? How do we prevent school shootings beyond gun control and help these individuals or prevent them from acting in the first place? How can we prevent not only suicide, but the want to commit suicide? I could go on forever. These are the kinds of questions we need to be asking. Not providing excuses. But looking for the most effective change that could positively impact our world from a realistic and unbiased perspective. We can't continue to choose what's acceptable - (ex: having mild depression is okay, but schizophrenia is crazy). NO. Both brains. Both natural. Both science. Both biological (as everything that is psychological is biological) - What can we do about it? How can we alleviate suffering? How can we provide help before it's too late? We are all human, and if you have never suffered from a mental health condition then you are a lucky soul. Though I would never change my perspective or my life for the world. It is why I am who I am. If only humans could switch places for 1 minute (brain and all, not simply life circumstances) imagine how our perspectives would change. There'd not be so much judging; I can tell you that much.

At times I am too empathetic... which I had never thought was possible before my recent life event. EED. Excessive Empathy Disorder. That's kind of a made up term for an actual thing. I can now see how it has affected me in my patient care, relationships, and shaped my world view. Empathy is often viewed as a positive characteristic which is very crucial in healthy relationships and communication. But when is too much empathy bad? When is it damaging to the individual or those around them? I often feel others' (ranging from family to friends to strangers) stress, pain, anxiety, and fear in my own body. I feel others' pain emotionally and physically. Taking on other people's feelings makes me susceptible to more pain than I can handle at times. That is why I believe I am SO impacted by the emotions and behaviors of others around me. Either negative or positive. In positive environments I thrive. In negative environments, I feel hopeless and stifled. When I feel surrounded by negativity, I have been learning how to modify my own behavior to try and positively impact the environment around me. This has been difficult for me to accept. That's just who I am. And it raises some interesting questions for me. If I live the majority of my time through other peoples' emotions, then who am I really? What does that make me? I have to take a step back and recall my personality characteristics that make me who I am and keep me grounded. I don't have to feel guilty sharing about myself, my interests, what I love, and what I'm passionate about. It's not easy, but it's getting easier. I have often wished that I could be an omnipotent being. A being that can see anything and all things that have ever been - without the limitations of a human mind. No pain, no concept of time or space, no blinding emotions, just being. Seeing facts exactly as they are. But then I'd like to be switched back to my whacky, excitable, emotional (yet somehow logical), empathetic self. I'd just hope that I would've taken notes so I could come up with solutions that have 0 bias. Solutions that are essentially beyond human comprehension. sigh How neat that would be.

I want to clarify one thing. Just because I feel the emotions of others' excessively does not mean that I feel close or connected with everyone. I don't necessarily automatically understand how or why others feel the way they do even when I know the situation and understand the context. Even with my empathy overload, I don't form relationships based on pity. Every relationship I form has a completely individual, distinct, and irreplaceable role that no one other person could quite fill. I am rational and grounded enough to know who is important to me and in what way. Each CLOSE relationship I form is unique and crucial in my life. The person who I will soon speak of is someone I care about so strongly completely aside from what he is going through mentally (which only makes things so much more difficult to accept). I am not feigning or imagining feelings by any means.

ANYWAYS. Sorry about that tangent. Though it really is needed to fully understand the extent of the story and all of the emotions involved. I'm sure by now you understand how passionate I am about mental health and similar such things. Just a little more background information... I am 25, work as an RN on a mental health unit, and love my life. Oh, and geocaching, dogs, and mystery novels. Not to get overly sappy, but I am married to a man I respect, love, and appreciate so incredibly much. We don't fight - that's just not the kind of people we are. Our personalities are plain simpatico. We trust each other beyond belief. I have never at any point in our relationship had a doubt about its authenticity whatsoever. He is great to me and for me, and I'd like to think vice versa. Some of his qualities as a human still boggle my mind (in the best way). I am terribly fond of him in an abundance of ways. I have never felt an urge to be unfaithful or a longing for something or someone else. For all these reasons we made an oath of fidelity, trust, and support to each other. For better or for worse. For now and for always. This is something I do not take lightly.

So now starts the story of late. I met him 2 months ago. It's not important how. The first day we met, we hit it off right away. We talked about science, religion, etc. Same sense of humor. Very logical. We have many life similarities. Golden. Perfect, a new friend for life. The past two months are ones I can barely express. The symptoms started to show, but very slowly. I didn't recognize BPD before it was too late. Before I realized the damage I had done.

This man is a fantastic person. Moral, hard-working, funny. We started hanging out pretty frequently starting in February. He is (was) also married. I believe I knew pretty early on that he wanted more from our relationship. I did my best to deflect, but enjoyed hanging out with him so much that I found it too easy to turn a blind eye. The conversations we had were awesome - I am a huge fan of logic/science/deep conversations regarding life, death, and everything in between. It's like my brain needs constant stimulation. And we had some great conversations.

I confided in him some very personal things. I told him all about my social anxiety, the problems I've had with drinking lately (I made up a term half-a-holic for what I was going through), my biggest fears including depression/suicidal thoughts/mental health problems in those I'm close to. That was my.... mistake? I didn't realize how deep these things would run. I didn't realize the harm I doing. I opened him up. His soul, his repressed feelings. He took me in. That's the best way I can say it. My open and lively personality gave him some sort of life that I didn't even realize started to control him and his feelings. In his mind, he was empty when I wasn't around, and loved+complete when I was around (initially).

There were some nights we were too close. I let my boundaries down. I set limitations and couldn't follow through with them (my #1 weakness in this case). I continued to push back, but it became increasingly difficult as he started to show his desperation and pain. I was exactly what would undo him and push him too far. The physicality started first. Intense hugs, kissing (not on the lips because I had to have some sort of boundary I guess). After not too long, the "I love you" and the "I need you started." No matter how many times I told him how much I cared about him, it was never enough. "I wish you could love me, too", "I wish you cared", "I wish you would choose me". I tried to explain to him that platonic/friend love was ABSOLUTELY as important to me as romantic/intimate love. He could not relate. He tried, but he just couldn't. In that aspect, we are just different people. "I love you" "I love you" "Please" "Help" "Hurting" "Help". He stated that we couldn't be just friends. As in, if we couldn't hold hands when we went out together, hold each other, etc. then he didn't think he could "do this" any more. That hurt me so deep, but he doesn't even know. It's his soul that I care about (or whatever the nonphysical part of us is). Take or leave the body. (aside: I HATE BODIES, PHYSICALITY, AND ATTRACTION SOMETIMES. In this case, I felt like it was destroying something I cared so much about, and I couldn't change it or control it. But we animals, whatcha gonna do about it?) The fact that he could just quit - just voluntarily step out - after what we had shared together felt overbearing. Why couldn't he see that I can't say I love you? It would only consume him? He would view it as "I love you and no one else and I'm leaving my husband and you and I will live happily ever after." And I can't. I won't. That's not what I want and that's not what he needs (even though he can't see that). I love and respect my husband so much. He's the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. There's nothing that will change that. My friend was constantly hurt that I couldn't "love" him fully. He felt rejected. Rejected because of my faithfulness to my husband. No matter how many times or in how many ways I tried to explain it, he could not understand. Love is such a boring and unfulfilling term in my opinion anyways. I care so much more about the feelings that exist than the words used to describe those feelings. Who cares if I say "I care about you" or "I love you", or whatever the poop. It's the emotions and feelings that matter, not the words used. "I love you" won't fix a person. This is all aside from the fact that my dad cheated on my mom when I was younger and I grew up with an intense distaste for infidelity and everything involved. I could not only not cheat on my "me-perfect" husband, but I could never let myself be "the other woman". I refused.

The conversation (or ones similar) that we had one hundred times: Me - "I can't keep doing this. It's too painful. I'm constantly leading you on. And my husband would feel so betrayed. I can't do that to him." Him - "I just need you." Me - "I care about you, but I feel hopeless in this situation. I don't know how to not hurt you." Him - "I love you. I couldn't live without you. Please." Me - "Okay, but we can't keep doing this." Him - "I need you. I'll stop. I promise. I just wish you loved me." Me - "You know how I feel about that. You know how much I care about you." Him - "I know. I just wish you could love me in that way." Me - "I care about you SO MUCH. You know that." --- And nothing ever changed. The "I love you"s, the "I need you"s, the desperation. He just continued to push the limits intimately and physically against what I was comfortable with. Which is not his fault whatsoever - especially with his disorder... I allowed it! By not setting strict boundaries and sticking to them, I set current and future expectations. -- How is it that someone could possibly make me feel guilty for not cheating on my husband??? I was astounded and so confused. He subconsciously pushed me do things that I just don't do. He made me feel things that I don't understand whatsoever. I started to question love (in general - not about my marriage), intimacy, my morals, and everything in between. I have gained a whole new appreciation of Stockholm Syndrome and all other psychiatric studies/conditions. -- The Stanford Prison Experiment, The Milgram Experiment, Genie (the feral child) - any and all really. Psychology and psychiatry have always been the most interesting topics to me, but now my perspective and passion have been greatly expanded.

He doesn't understand the concept that nobody NEEDS anybody. If you NEED someone, then that is unhealthy. I've told him, "You are you. Even without me. You are awesome. You are amazing. If you'd never met me, guess what? You'd still be awesome. If you were dropped off in the middle of another country or planet, guess what? You'd still be you." His response, "I know. But I need you."

That was the manipulation I was so blind to. I know it was ABSOLUTELY unintentional on his part, but that doesn't make it hurt any less. What I should have done at this point seems so obvious now, right? Walk away (not actually an option for me). Or set FIRM UNCHANGEABLE boundaries. But guess who didn't do that? That's right. Me. I cared too much. I should have known that wasn't important. I should have seen the signs and been able to extrapolate the situation. But the fact is I didn't.

There were nights when it went too far, physically. We never fully went all the way, and nothing went THAT far. But we were on a cusp that I was so uncomfortable with. I felt muted. I felt as though if I told him we absolutely had to stop then he would become severely depressed or turn immediately back to the "I need you, I wished you loved me, etc etc". I felt as though his COMPLETE well-being rested 100% on my shoulders. It is the most unsettling feeling I have ever felt. His self esteem is so low. He wants so desperately to be physically attractive when in all honesty he already is. He can't understand that his low self esteem is a result of his brain, not of his body or level of attraction. He believes that he's just not "good enough" for me, or just "not attractive enough". Explaining time and time again that I need to stay faithful to my husband didn't seem to help him understand why he and I can't be together. Each thing I did and said directly and immediately affected his emotions profoundly. So I let things happen. I watched from an out-of-body perspective. I removed myself mentally. I did what I had to do to cope with the situation. I was caring for him now. I just wanted to see that "I feel safe and protected" look on his face. In certain moments he looked so content, so comforted, so perfectly at peace. It was one of the only times I felt that everything was going to be alright. That he was going to be okay. The physicality didn't even feel anything like cheating because it was almost a maternal feeling. Like I was caring for him; like I was protecting him.

Things have just continued to get more intense. Scarier. More confusing. He walked out on his wife. He had been staying at my house a lot in the days following. He drinks, sleeps, and cries almost all day. He continues to say that he feels like he is on an emotional rollercoaster. So high one minute, so low the next. He always says how alone and empty he feels EXCEPT when he's with me. That's it. I'm his only cure in his mind. ALONE, EMPTY. He feels like he's such a burden, and I can't express how I want to help with carrying his burdens so he doesn't have to handle them alone. But he can't see that. He's only a burden (a monster) in his mind. Whereas I'm "such a good person". He has said all of these things repeatedly, over and over and over. It breaks me. Something that I would think would help, but really only hurts, is the fact that him and I get along so well and have to same sense of humor. We will both be crying together one minute, make a joke, and laughing the next. He'll look so happy and be laughing so hard one second (which makes my heart glow so intensely for the brief period of time), and the next I instantly catch that tangibly painful look on his face. It's so heartbreaking and so unhealthy. He appears okay with living like this forever. As long as I'm there. I told him I can't do that. I can't live with this stress. And he makes a statement that makes me feel guilty for wanting to be okay. For wanting to help him. For wanting to be happy. He has 0 self esteem. He is from out of state and has almost 0 support system. He does have a friend who drove up from out of state (hundreds and hundreds of miles) to offer him help and stay with him for a while. I am eternally grateful to him. He is the only one (from not my side of the story) who I could explain everything to. Aside from my own best friend, he is the only one I felt I could explain absolutely everything to. He was so logical about the situation. I felt so tired, stressed, sick, used, guilty, and scared CONSTANTLY (and continue to do so). I needed a voice from the outside. The problem was (and is) that our friend is not receptive to help at all. I have told him so many times that he is suffering from a psychiatric disorder. Needs help. He agrees, but makes no effort to change. Continues to drink and sleep all day and say "I love you, I need you, please love me, hurting." He can't comprehend that if he and I were married, lovers, whatever, that he would still suffer. Like a person can just fix you and your brain. That's not how it works. If I could just reach in his head and tweak his amygdala, pre-frontal cortex, throw in a little serotonin/dopamine/whatever, you better believe I'd do it in a heartbeat. As logical as he is and guided by his scientific background, this is the one thing he can't see clearly whatsoever. His own illness.

I am on a rollercoaster with him that bends on his terms. All the way up, crashing down, jerk to the left then jerk to the right, dark tunnel, on loop infinitely.

All of this is compounded on top of the fact that he suffers from alcohol use disorder and has had several depressive and even violent episodes in the last couple of months. He uses alcohol to numb out everything. Not to mention that one of his immediate family members just died a few weeks ago. It's like Jenga. Taking out one block at a time until...

No matter what I do he hurts. If I make him laugh, it hurts. If I say something truthful, it hurts. If I do anything at all, it hurts. How can I live like that? How can he possibly be okay with living like that? I knew it was really bad a few days ago when he was looking at music on my phone upstairs and I heard a thump. I chuckled a little and ran upstairs. He was visibly very irritated and upset. He stated, "Why are you still talking to him?" referencing a guy I met at trivia last week who vaguely flirted with me via Snapchat. I was bewildered. Could he really be that blind to this situation?? He said, "How could you continue to talk with someone who just wants to f*** you?!" Like he owns me. Like his obsession just continues to grow. I have been increasingly worried about violent outbursts towards myself or my husband. I am 98.7394% sure that he would NEVER go that far. But I'm so scrambled and unsure of everything right now.

I continued to get irritated when I tried to teach him about BPD and he just had no interest. ACTING LIKE THIS ISN'T THE MOST IMPORTANT THING IN THE WORLD. I sent him an online article that explains BPD and the symptoms along with how it affects both the BPD sufferer and their loved ones. I was hoping sooo hard that he could try and understand what this is like for me. I have been trying so hard to understand what it's like for him. It's just This is BY FAR the most anxiety I've ever had to deal with where I can clearly identify the source (aka outside of my social anxiety and generalized anxiety). And it's a case in which I'm helpless.

I've blocked his number, sanpchat, and FB after profusely explaining why. This is not betrayal, though I absolutely knew that's how he would perceive it. He needs to seek help. He needs to focus on himself. He needs to realize that I'm not his savior. How much I hope he follows through with psychiatric care, I can't put into words. And I need to take care of myself. So desperately. It hurts so bad. I feel uncontrollable guilt. But I can't keep being pulled back onto that rollercoaster. Part of me just wants the pain because someone I care so much about has to go through it, so why shouldn't I? I know it's not logical. I know I don't really want to suffer. I just want to take all of his pain away indefinitely.

The past 2 days have been the worst. So many texts and phone calls. Crying, "I love you", "I need you". Suicide threat (OUCH). So much desperation. I can't help but consider his risk for suicide. I don't know what I would do or how I would ever be able to cope with that. I just arrived in Seattle yesterday afternoon for a vacation with friends. I wish I could be here. Like, really be here. But my mind can't stop. Constant worry. No sleep. No appetite. Physically and mentally drained. Every second I feel like I could get that phone call telling me my worst fear. My heart jumps every time my phone vibrates.

He refuses to admit himself to a psychiatric unit. His parents were made aware of the situation. I've reached out to some other mental health professionals to get different opinions. I texted his ex/wife and let her know how sorry I am about this whole convoluted situation, my concern about his safety and suicide risk, and she couldn't care less. I called the police station nearest his house to see if they could help. The officer on the phone was unfamiliar with how to go about helping in the situation and just plain rude. So I felt uncomfortable going that route.

My husband has been overly supportive. I don't understand how in this situation he can be such a reassuring person. My husband has seen crude texts/messages that have been sent my way, came home to him sleeping in our guest bedroom. A good majority of men would have FLIPPED. But not my husband. He is the most level headed, sweetest person and I adore all of him.

Irony. So much irony in the worst way. Number 1 - The fact that I care so much about my friend, and he knows my biggest passion is mental health and suicide, which is also my worst fear (especially for someone I'm close with), and because of his mental disorder, he is able to use that against me. "I'll probably be dead when you read this". That was text #11 of 45 that he sent me in row. To an extent he knew how deep that would cut. But in another aspect, he has ABSOLUTELY no idea how much it really freaking hurt. I know he just says it out of his unimaginable pain. But that is it. That is my worst fear.

Irony number 2 - all of the absolute gut-wrenching things he says when he is in his 'devaluation' mode ("you backstabber", "how could you do this", "I trusted you", "why are you abandoning me", "what happened to make you turn your back on me", "I f***ing need you. Help me. Don't betray me." "I want you to hurt like me") are things that I feel that he has done to me. But I can't place blame because I understand the diagnosis/suffering/pain. I KNOW speaking that way is a defense mechanism spoken out of sheer helplessness and pain. But I feel like the one who's being abandon, disrespected, betrayed, backstabbed at times. First and foremost, as forementioned, he knew my vulnerabilities, my worst fears, and he used them against me. The suicide threat. He went from "I would never hurt myself because I know it would hurt you too much. I could NEVER do that to you" to "I can't live without you. I'll probably be dead when you read this". GOD THAT HURTS. I would never intentionally hurt, abandon, or backstab anyone - let alone someone I care so much for. And to add a little salt to the wound, I discovered that he may have been talking to other girls in similar ways via text message. That really hurt. Not because I'm jealous, but the fact that he felt he had to hide it from me. That lack of trust sure felt like betrayal to me. When he could look me in the eye and tell me I knew everything. He just happened to omit the fact that he was talking to other girls in a similar way - though to which extent I'm not sure. ("I'm hurting?", "I need you"?, "I love you"?, "you're too good for me"?, "I wish you loved me"?, etc etc.). What he was saying doesn't really matter honestly. It's most about the trust aspect than the actual content. I would have loved to know that he was at least reaching out to other people. I could have helped him communicate with them. I could have ensured he didn't take it too far. I wanted to be there for him, I wanted to protect him. What else hadn't he told me about? In regards to the past, the present, and anything pertinent, what was I in the dark about? Are our feelings actually mutual in our relationship (at least in the fact that we trust and respect each other)? Or does he care less about me as a person and only the way that I make him feel? These questions and so many more continue to crop up and tear at my psyche. I understand that none of this is about me. I have to continuously remind myself of that. This is not about me.

I often feel as though I'm talking to someone who doesn't speak the same language. His responses are so illogical. Regardless of what I say, it's always either a response of "I love you." "I need you." "Help me." "I wish you loved me." "I wish you would have chosen me." "I'll leave you alone" or a devaluating statement that rips my heart to pieces. No matter how much thought or deliberation I put into what I say to him or how I communicate it, the responses are always the same. But I know they are not him. They are his disorder. He has recently taken to saying "I'm just a patient to you". That hurts me so intensely. I view him as him. He is an amazing human being who needs psychiatric care immediately. And