In my latest fight with this demon, now that I'm older and had a break, I see things a little differently now.

For example, I love my husband but there's a huge fucking asterisk at the end of that sentence.  He is my best friend, he is strong, he can be thoughtful and of most jerk-ish SO's can be, he is by far one of the better ones.  This is a true story.  

What's been bothering me the most is that I do love him.  I'm not bothered by loving him, but because I love him in a way that only someone living with BPD can love, which is often dangerous, sometimes empty and occasionally desperately.  

I used to think that it wasn't love because it wasn't the balls-to-the-wall passion, the Nicholas Spark intimacy or even the lingering looks over candlelit dinners love.  It's what I want, it's what I miss.  That saying about loving wide open doesn't work with me, mostly because my subdued *is* everyone else's wide open.  Those damned feels man, those damned feels...  

Which brings me to this, and I know it's been discussed ad nauseum, something about feeling some things so deeply but still having the capacity to feel absolutely nothing in other cases.  It's analogous to the fake towels in Bed, Bath and Beyond.  On the shelf they look like a lovely, uniform dozen  when it's actually one towel wrapped around foam.  I know what love is supposed to look like but when it's appropriate, I can't feel it  But I can feel it in all of its (sometimes inappropriate) forms.  It just feels so empty sometimes but he loves me through it all.  

He's not codependent, he genuinely loves me.  I'm also ridiculously high-functioning so that helps.  When I look back at past relationships and what I miss about them (the amazing sex, the deep, profound feelings of "love," the intensity) are all the hallmarks of this stupid disorder.  It doesn't make me miss those wild and crazy moments any less, it just makes me understand why I miss them.  In some way, this must be what maturing is.  And while still a recurring nightmare, I can see the demon for what it is.  

Like hurricanes.  You can predict all you want, but that bitch will do what it wants and all bets are off when it hits land.  I can see this hurricane forming, I can prepare for it all I can but in the end, it will either rage itself out or it will be a non-event.  All I have to do is give safe shelter to those I love and weather the storm however it comes at me.  

I think it's passing but I'm exhausted.  Poor life choices are begging to be made, and I'm picking the least destructive ones hoping it's enough until it's completely over.  