Since July, I hadn't had any issues with BPD... and my brain thought "well, I'm perfect and awesome, why wouldn't my partner want to be with me and marry me next year?" 

November came and passed. I hated that month. I got baker acted (see post history for details) and my mom started harassing me about how she heard from my dad that I thought she was a bad mom (then she laughed at me for saying I was abused....) 
I had to have an unexpected abortion, and then the emotional issues came rushing in, only to put me back at square one. The fighting began; a week prior, he told me how amazing I've been and how he's so proud of me for conquering through the things that held me back for so long. He cried with me over the baby we knew we weren't ready for, but missed anyway. He was opening up emotionally, and I was so happy, because to me, that meant he wasn't afraid anymore. After years of relapsing, of emotional abuse I didn't know I was actually doing, I had finally been ok. I finally fixed him. Right? Wrong. A week later, the anger welled up again and I lost it. Fight after fight. Name calling. The works. 

Yesterday, he'd just return from a back to back 16 hour shift, exhausted, climbing into bed with me, kissing my tears away as I had an out of the blue panic attack. Even after I'd picked at him on our anniversary, he let it go and took care of me at 1 a.m. even though he was exhausted. But for BPD me, it wasn't enough. That morning, I nagged him about setting a date again. In my bullshit head, I still thought I was an angel and that he would marry me in a few months because I hadn't relapsed as bad. But, bravely, he confessed that he can't just forget my past emotionally abusive behavior, and while he is here for me, he doesn't want to keep seeing me fall down and hurting him along the way. Instead of empathizing and saying "you're right. We will have a healthier marriage if I get my shit straight first," I took offense, had a giant rage and sent him more firm in his decision to wait a little longer. All he was asking me to do was accept we'd marry in September. What hurt the most was hearing he partially proposed because he thought it'd help me realize he was committed and I wouldn't rage anymore... he admitted that was stupid and deceptive, but the ring still meant something to him and he wanted to continue standing by me and move back to a healthy relationship... because we were on such a good track before the abortion... 

I wasn't always this way. The diagnosis hit me at 20, a year after we moved in together, a year after things were going so perfectly, a year after I realized life was finally going the way I wanted it to... all the trauma of my mother's neglect came rushing back to me the moment I finally had a chance to be happy. He stuck by me through the anxiety and the depression, but that quickly turned into rage and abuse, and I didn't even realize it. He'd protect himself by taking space, closing off, walking on eggshells, and then I'd fight him because he wasn't emotionally all the way there... 

August meant hope. We started couples counseling and finally made a breakthrough. He was communicating better, no longer acting like a timid mouse. He was emotionally opening up and loving me like he did before I became vindictive and mean. Everything felt like it was moving towards healthy and stable again. He was there for me like I wanted him to be. He has never left my side and yet I continue to punish him.... he works his ass off at two jobs for me and never complains. He supports me through school and doesn't pressure me to work, or fault me for losing some of my jobs because I was too depressed to show up. He isn't perfect... sometimes he fails to communicate properly, says mean things when he's a little frustrated, and doesn't talk a lot about his problems (which causes me to selfishly forget he even has any and pour my problems on him all the damn time), but he is damn close to it. He is human, but he is the one I've wanted to be with ever since I first saw him. He doesn't make me feel like I'm hard to love like everyone else did... 

I should be happy he's still here... but for some reason I can't shake the feeling that it's codependency.... I want him to be in love with his future wife, not afraid. I'm tired of letting him down. He puts so much faith in me and then I fuck up again, and we're back to square one... where I fix for a month or two and then expect marriage talk to happen again... and it's a cycle. 

I thought I was making really good progress... and I was. No, I still am... I haven't melted down as bad as I used to. It was an hour rage rather than a three hour rage... I wish he wasn't afraid of me. I wish I wasn't so stuck in this victim mindset where I can't emphasize with anyone or put my problems aside for a second to help my partner. I can't stop beating myself up, and part of me just wants to close him out, because I can't find a balance between "can you help me with this problem? I'm stressed." To "let's talk about my problems for hours as soon as you get home until dawn!" I hate myself and I hate the person and partner I've become. 

Three years together and yet most of that time I've just hurt him... but he refuses to break up, and I feel like a total asshole. 


Just wanted to rant. Thanks. 