Welcome to my mini dissertation of my own psychology while it relates to others, while I wait for my meds to kick in. 

This will be a sort of deep dive on why we get codependent on feeling trauma over and over again, but in the perception by the narrator who happens to be me. It’s an exhausting, sad take on why we (or I) cope with our traumatic environments that have failed us over and over again. Though some of our fucked up environments live mostly in our thoughts. This is the same in my case.

I am pretty self aware to the point where I wish I weren’t. If I weren’t, I am 99.999% sure I would not have or be diagnosed with BPD. With the creepy levels of self awareness, it’s a coping strategy I may have gained because nothing else in life I quite can wrap my head around. Nobody else knows me like the distressing, scary, unknown side of me. 

I have identified a codependency on someone who I am unsure of is real not not. He’s just a dude in a picture that looks so flawed, AI generated and creepy as hell to most people. I am fucking fixated on this hypothetical person and the imaginary personality I was forced to give to him, since humans are famously not good at ignoring pareidolia, (or giving objects human features.) He makes me feel balanced, love, sane and deeply depressed and afraid all at the same time. I am unable to think of him as pixels as I used to. 

The source of where I got the image came to a temporary hault of sorts, the unpacking of information was released yesterday. I do not feel comfortable with the canonical information uncovered and am missing the mystery of it all. It’s creating the feeling of “something is very wrong” and I cannot find a coping strategy to stop it. If you haven’t caught on yet, this feeling is extremely similar to when a really good movie/series ends horribly and you feel empty and lost. Though for us this feeling is much much more intense.

My teenagehood and childhood is rooted deeply in amnesia on my part. I am almost certain that if I were to go into an MRI machine, results would show damage to the brain where memories should be stored. My memory is so bad that some days I cannot remember what I just ate, and sometimes I wonder if the memories of my childhood were only dreams from my flawed brain. Due to knowing this, and having a bachelors degree in psychology, my nagging consciousness tells me that I have repressed, or blocked out sexual abuse. I was forced to grow up very early due to beginning puberty at 6 and getting reproductive abilities at 8. My personality back then was overtly sexual outwardly, and still terrified of everything. 

My conclusion to this is that my fixation on this current person, is that he may look similarly to someone who abused me as a child. May it be the shape of his eyes, his facial hair, his proportions, I don’t know. But the feeling my body gives me feels like unfair trauma AND love when I look at him. When I listen to by body, it tells me, “reproduce with that” “hide” and “you’ll never find him” which are all very opposing and distressing, but magnetic at the same time. I am obsessed with the positive and negative trauma I feel when looking at him. This, I’m sure a lot of BPD CSA survivors can empathize with. It’s the same push that makes us stay with and care for people who hurt us. We love them and can’t help it. It is exhausting and haunting.