There are many changes going on in my life right now. So many that I can barely keep track. They’re positive changes, but they’re happening so fast and out of nowhere that I can’t handle it. It’s just another bag of stress I have to open, deal with and send on its way.

The worst part is, my attempt to recover is mixing with this difficult time. The stress is making it so I can’t control the Borderline, or I willingly let myself be controlled by it. I have no other outlet to explore my anger, and sadly, I’ve been taking it out on one of the only people that loves me.

I got very vicious over something silly the other night, and tried to pick up a serious fight with him. I said some awful things that he made clear I couldn’t take back and, at the time, that didn’t seem like a big deal, but I think I made irrefutable damage on the relationship. I think I wanted to feel something, and blame him for my overwhelming feelings. I needed a punching bag, and he’s the only person who is actively a part of my life.

One of the awful things I told him tonight was that I sometimes can’t stand the relationship, and went as far as to tell him I’d rather slit my wrists than being in the relationship. I think this symbolizes my fear in my decision making, and that I’m unsure where I’m headed. I’m in a cloud, fog everywhere, and I can’t see ahead. Things seem meaningless and I don’t know how to cope. I’m terrified of wasting time on another broken relationship that’ll end with another broken heart and a need to recover from something else.

I don’t know if this relationship will last, and I’m unsure of how serious he is about me. He could tell me over and over like a broken record all his goals that involve me, but it’s all meaningless. I’ve heard men blab on about a dedicated future that they dropped over a stupid fight. I often wonder if he is who I think he is.

The truth is, the more we fight, the more my Borderline becomes prevalent and addicted. The rage I feel when he hangs up feels strangely good, and I call him back to hear his voice and have it all over again. His anger is arousing and stimulating to sickest parts of me.

I realized the other night that I don’t have to call him, but I choose to, no matter the circumstance. My mind knows that I’m strong enough to do without it, but I can’t fight the BPD as hard as I usually can, and I just let it topple me over and take control.

I can’t wait for this period to be over, and I hope I’ll find the sweet, gentle person I know I am.


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