I often forget that I am borderline and am only focused on my anxiety and depression. Why? Because I try my best not to date people. But sometimes people come into my life and it doesn't take long to remember.

I met someone. I kept my distance for a long time, but one day he asked me to kiss him.

We went on a date that lasted an entire 24 hours. We stared deep into each others eyes. We were so excited about each other.

We had sex on the second date. I cried a lot after because I'd never had sex that felt that good with someone I really liked who wasn't a terrible person. It triggered a lot of my PTSD issues. 

A week later I was a complete mess. We got together again and this time I was a heap, crying in his arms. We were both so confused and overwhelmed. I had thought that seeing him would put me at ease. It didn't. The moment I arrived, I noticed how the dynamic shifted. What had felt like expansive excitement and perfect connection the week before was now tense, dull, unsettling, grey. 

I left in the morning, having a panic attack and telling him I had Bipolar II Disorder. I don't, but it's close-ish to BPD in some ways, and it felt way less shameful. 

He pulled away. I didn't hear from him for weeks. I slowly devolved into craziness. I tried my best to stay in a positive mindset and take care of myself. I surrounded myself with friends, I engaged in my hobbies, I got work done, I read self help material, I tried my best to love myself. I told myself he was just busy, that I hadn't really ruined everything like I thought, that I just had to stop being so hard on myself. 

It wasn't enough. I blew up at him over Facebook message one night at 4AM. I couldn't wait anymore. The uncertainty was ripping me apart. He responded that I had put too heavy of an emotional burden on him and that he couldn't be there for me in that way and that he was waiting for the right time to get together in person and tell me, but he'd been busy. He didn't want to hurt me by telling me over Facebook because he knew I'd had tumultuous relationships. If only he knew that the 2 weeks of radio silence was so much worse for me than if he'd just told me right away, even over text.

You can all relate to this. I crave affection, romance, love, connection, meaning. Yet once I get it, I go on a straight path toward self sabotage no matter how hard I try to avoid it. I wonder if I'll ever be able to love anybody without it ending in disaster.