I have been on this sub almost 6 months. I myself have autism and PTSD with strong quiet, usually quiet, BPD traits. I have largely spoken about recovery on this sub, therapy has helped me an enormous amount, the practical and emotional changes have been incredible. I have goals rather than pipe dreams now, in another year of therapy and such college is a real possibility. But I am partially still in the chaos life now, friends and acquaintances are largely still using dope or genuinely messed up psychologically, often both, I still live in a tiny slum apartment, well the harm reduction has gone very well, I still drink, and being around, even if I no longer engage in it myself, blow up arguments or smoking meth/crack is still something I am frequently around.

But speaking to the title of my post. In cases where I am heavily involved emotionally with a close loved one it is different, my concern makes it very difficult and stressful. But if they are not particularly close It doesn't bother me at all. I had been realizing the attraction to it for months now. But previously I thought it was more personal, I think their a cool person, or sexy, or whatever. But today I was sitting with an old friend of family, and objectively she is not cool, she is attractive enough for her age, but I am not attracted to her physically, and there was still something about her. She's living the life, strung out bad, splitting like crazy against the world and everybody in it, and in a terrible mood. 

And yet there is a magnetism to it. There's an authenticity free of any artifice. In truth I know it well, the lady couldn't be artificial if she tried. Its the middle of the day, we are sitting on the side of a flower garden thing in the middle of a parking lot that serves a whole bunch of downtown businesses, people of all types everywhere, and she pulls out a jar of chopped weed and rolls and blows a joint with me in front of God and everyone. Sometimes I get real paranoid about doing that, sometimes it doesn't worry me at all, with nothing in between. She obviously would be crying if she wasn't so goddamned pissed off, loudly bitching about one person after the next and how recovery services are actively trying to scapegoat and fuck her over, I am kind and sympathetic, but all I can thing is God I like girls who just don't give a shit, God how I  love this fucking crazy goddamned world. 

Recovery is better. Therapy, real goals, not being burdensome to loved ones, being able to Being helpful and kind to people without spending half the time putting my stuff on them, not being depressed or suicidal or pissed off myself all the time, there is no question recovery is better. But I do not really understand why I love the life, the foolish chaos, so much. I don't know if anyone else can relate, but I felt like venting in a sorta good way I guess.