BPD is a heavy fucking cross to bear regardless of how it presents itself, but until recently, I thought I was high-functioning. I thought I handled things well and could just ignore the parts of me that itched to burn the world around me at every minor inconvenience. If BPD were a spectrum, I would have put myself on the lower end–mild or stable. But recent events have led me to realize there is nothing mild or stable about who I am as a person, and I’m desperate for advice. Desperate to find people who understand. No one in my immediate circle understands. Even if they try understanding, they always end up misstepping. 

    About a week ago, I went on a date with a guy we’ll call Bruce. There were some “normalities” about the way I reacted to my impending date: the excitement, the jitters, the anticipation, the unending smiles, the gushing. I ended up late for the date (scheduling error) and spent the entire time being my usual sleep-deprived, high-strung self. Well, Bruce apparently didn’t like who I was in person or he caught onto my unimpressed vibe. He ended up asking if we could just be friends, and when he drove off, I kinda just stood there in shock. Drove back to my place on autopilot. Not from rejection but because I hadn’t had a good time and I was probably going to end up ghosting him after the date. It irked me that he was the one who called quits first. And I know that sounds super fucking toxic, but it’s the truth. I hate when things don’t go according to the plan I’ve concocted in my head. I hate when people do things I don’t want them to. I hate when people take initiative before I can.

    And that’s what led me to my several revelations. 

During my talking phase with Bruce, I was always so excited to talk to him. I’d alter my personality so he would like me the best way I know how–matching interests, similar music tastes, being confident and easily flustered the way he likes girls to be. I spent every day thinking about him constantly, the way you might think about water if you’ve gone a day without drinking anything. I fixated on him. Couldn’t stop talking about him, couldn’t stop counting down the days until our date. He consumed every part of me. I thought it was because I really liked him–thought he had the potential to be “the one” for me–but after our date, I realized there was a dark truth lurking beneath my every thought, feeling, and action. 
When I develop an “interest” in someone, it’s always a calculated decision. I idealize that person as soon as I realize they’re physically my type, bear a personality I enjoy, and have a few similar interests to me. I fixate on them. They become a goal I want to achieve. Something I’d like to conquer. My mind becomes a warped, ugly thing that no longer views a person as a person. I think about the person constantly because to me, they’re like gold at the end of a rainbow: as the days pass and it gets closer to when we’ll meet, the days don’t drag. I don’t feel empty inside the way I do when I avoid dating apps and keep busy with work and chores. 

Part of it’s attention-seeking, I know it is. I like being able to run and tell my friends about every little thing I discuss with who I “like.” When it came to Bruce, nothing was secret. I talked about him on a regular basis, gushing any time he responded. There was a period where he hardly EVER responded, and I spent those days in constant anxiety, fixated on the idea something went wrong. At the time I thought it because I was upset about him potentially talking with other girls but I’ve realized I didn’t like he was doing something out of my control and it was possible he’d stop talking entirely and I’d be embarrassed to have kept my friends and coworkers in the loop. 

It isn’t much of a cycle. I hardly seek out anyone on dating apps, and so this was the first time in a while (excluding when I was dating my ex) that I became an obsessive, one-track-minded version of myself. I watched myself self-destruct because I can’t stand not being in control and life comes crumbling down when there is no purpose. The person is my purpose to keep going, and now they’re gone, POOF. What do I do? I become numb. Unstable. Drive home recklessly and enter my bathroom and have a panic attack, clawing into my necks until I leave scars and forcing myself to throw up. Bringing out my alcohol stash, even though I’ve been avoiding the fuck out of it due to spraining my wrist the last time I got drunk, and downing shots, hoping to block out the hollowness in my chest. I couldn’t stand that he wanted to get out of there so fast. Stared at me with this dawning horror and anxiety when I gazed back after the bomb was dropped–he asked over and over again, “Is that okay? Is it? I can’t tell what you’re thinking.” Talking down to me the way you do a wounded animal. I have an apathetic face and tone usually, especially when sleep-deprived. And I could tell he hated that I wasn’t this bubbly, pixie girl I might have seemed like over phone calls and over text. 

There was no anger until I got to my apartment and unleashed it on myself. I was so fucking upset that I put myself in this situation of wasting time and energy. That I was blind to my own delusions and repression led to me doing this–exploding.

I guess the gist is this: I’ve never once been genuinely attracted to someone. People aren’t people once my attention lingers for too long. I’m empty until I target a goal. I hate when I have no control. I hate when people become nothing but memories before I can pulverize them into dust myself. Adrenaline pumps through me when I’m “romantically interested”, and I see them as a reason to sleep, to go to work, to wait for the afternoon, to smile and laugh, to change my shitty habits. It’s after they’re gone that I sober up and days become vague and endless.

I can only assume it’s all caused by BPD. 

Really, I just want to know if any of you guys have similar experiences. Several of my friends have told me they’ve never heard anyone think like that, and that makes me feel horrible.  I’m going to see a therapist next week, but I think it’s important to also hear what you guys think since my therapy appointment isn’t for another week.

Any thoughts?