So in April of 2017 I moved in with my then-boyfriend after two months of dating. It was my first time getting out of my parents’ house and I thought that I was in this great relationship (a healthy one? For the first time in my life??) and finally getting away from my parents who never really went to great lengths to understand my mental health. Things were amazing for the first couple months. I didn’t have any crazy symptoms and I was there thinking wow I’m healed all I needed was this great guy to fall in love with me!! Bye bye bpd!! But that shit didn’t last, and I started to split on him really often. I didn’t have as much of an understanding on what I was doing then as I do now, so I couldn’t explain to him very well what was happening. I tried, but he never understood. I took it out on him, and I know I wasn’t always good to him, despite trying to be the best girlfriend possible. (I tried to make up for my episodes whenever I wasn’t in the middle of one. I was clingy and completely devoted to him. I spent hundreds of dollars buying him things, spoiling him with gifts and affection.) but then I’d fall into these moods where I was completely convinced I didn’t even love him. I felt nothing toward him and I’d just break up with him. Minutes after I did it, instant regret set in. Every. Time. I was always so sure it was for real this time—I didn’t love him, but as soon as I called it quits, or picked a fight, I realized that wasn’t what I wanted, not at all. I promised him I was going to get better, I started therapy, I got on meds. I even hospitalized myself during a really bad episode. But it kept happening, nothing changed, I never got better. The last time I broke up with him he refused to take me back. But I was still living with him, we still slept together, he still kissed me and held me and told me he loved me. We were together in every sense except he wouldn’t give me back the label. This destroyed me every single day and I could feel him drifting further and further away from me. While we were “broken up” he started T (he’s ftm). I went with him to all his appointments, I started giving him his shots every Monday. I felt like we were going to get better, bc he was finally going to be happy with himself and in his own skin.
It was a normal day, I got back home from work and texted him to ask when he’d be home and he said he didn’t know bc he was at the bar with some friends. He didn’t come home until like 4 am and it woke me up. He went right to sleep. I could feel it in my gut that something was going on he wasn’t telling me. I went looking through his phone and I found some pretty incriminating pictures of him with another girl. I started packing while he slept. He woke up and asked me what I was doing. Quietly, I told him I’m going to my parents house. He wouldn’t drop it, he kept asking me why and I finally said “I know what you’ve been doing.” He denied all of it. I had sent myself the pictures off of his phone. I put it in his face and he still denied it. I snapped. I fucking lost it. I started screaming at him telling him what a piece of shit he was and how could he do this to me and I gave him everything and I can’t believe that he betrayed my trust like this. I screamed louder than I ever have. I must have woken up the entire apartment building.
I pushed him to the edge and he told me to get out. He said just get out, wouldn’t even let me pack. I refused and he snapped too. He pulled my hair while he screamed in my face and he wrapped his hand around my throat. I pushed him off of me and kept packing. I spent hours packing, screaming at him the whole time. He screamed too, he talked about how glad he was to finally be rid of me. He ridiculed me for not having any friends, and for crying all the time. He called me weak for quitting jobs bc of my mental health. He said really below the belt shit, but I did too.
I packed as much as I could before I finally broke down. I sobbed so hard. I couldn’t believe he’d done this. That softened him I guess because he comforted me, he held me and told me he didn’t mean anything he said and he was so sorry for putting his hands on me and he hated himself for it and he told me he was suicidal bc he was so disgusted that he hurt me physically. He asked me if I’d cuddle with him one last time and I was weak and of course I said yes and I laid with him in the bed and he kissed my forehead and my nose and my eyelids and told me he’s always going to love me.
Some other shit happened, us fighting when I went to get the rest of my stuff. We got into a physical altercation in the parking lot fighting over our cat. That made him hate me. I pulled his hair and put my hand around his throat the way he did to me and I screamed in his face.
I haven’t seen him or heard from him since that day. He has me blocked on all forms of social media. He despises me now, I think. I don’t think he misses me because he has his new girl.
But I realized I had an alternate Instagram account that he doesn’t know I own, that he allowed to follow him (he’s on private), that hasn’t been blocked. In a moment of weakness, today, over two months after all of this went down, I logged into it. I can see his Instagram. He posted a video of his voice. It’s dropped so much since starting T. When we were together, he hadn’t shown any signs yet, no facial hair growth, no voice drop, etc. But now his voice is completely different. When I heard it, I broke down. I’ve never been this low. I’m sick to my stomach, I’m shaking, I’m twitching (which I’ve never done before), I’m crying uncontrollably OF COURSE. It’s like he’s not even the same person. It’s dawning on me that this journey I was so excited to be a part of, to stand by his side, to be everything he needed when he felt low and unsure of himself... it occurred to me that I can’t give him that. Another girl is giving him that. Another girl has taken my spot and I don’t get to be a part of it. I don’t get to love him anymore bc he doesn’t want my broken, warped version of love. I think about him every single day but today he has consumed me entirely. It has taken every bit of my willpower to not message him these past two months. I have devoted all of my energy to forgetting him, to replacing him. I’m on dating sites, I talk to different guys every day. I’ve even gone on a date. But I can’t get him out of my head and today I really fucked up by looking at his Instagram... I don’t know if I can stop myself from contacting him
I don’t think he’d even respond
I don’t know what I would even say
I hate him for hurting me but I know I drove him to it, I know being bpd has made me impossible to love bc I don’t know how to control any of it and even when I tried dbt and meds and begging him to understand it never made him accept me 
I still love him more than I love anything
What I feel for him is even more intense than my own self hatred 
I know I was abusive and toxic and horrible and I blew my chance at being with someone I’ve wanted since I was 12 years old
I’m 20 now
I feel like I’ve wanted to be his girl for as long as I can remember and now he has a new girl and doesn’t want anything to do with me
I’ve known him since I was 7
I feel like he has my entire heart and there’s nothing left of me without him
I feel incomplete and worthless and I just want to kill myself to stop the pain bc I know it’s never going to end
So yeah that’s where I’m at rn. Sobbing uncontrollably over a boy that cheated on me and physically abused me bc he is finally achieving the happiness he always deserved and I don’t get to partake in it.
I don’t know that I won’t message him. I’m honestly impressed with myself that I haven’t done it yet.
I feel like it’s either message him or kill myself. I don’t see any other option.
I might get drunk. But if I drink I’ll definitely message him. I might also definitely kill myself.
I’m out of weed which is the only thing that I feel helps me. Bc I’m currently off meds. It’s almost midnight so I can’t do anything about it.
I can’t decide which I want more, to be in his arms or be dead.