BPD Blog Borderline Personality Disorder

FeelingShameSo there is this guy who works at the gas station down the street that is really nice and seems pretty cool and laid back.  I’m hella interested into getting to know him as a person, and maybe pursuing a friendship.  Now, he’s married but so am I, and that’s ok because all I want into is his head.  (No really, I’m asexual.)

The problem is I’m socially awkward.  I’m also an odd duck, which is a nice way of saying I’m a bit weird or out there.

So today, since we had a bit of a conversation going, I asked him if he reads for fun.  He said yes, and named Harry Potter.  So I’m taking this to mean he doesn’t inhale books like I do, but he does know a good contemporary when he comes across one.  I nodded to myself and ran back home, I forgot something vital anyway, and figured I’d grab a copy of Siddhartha while I was there and give it to him when I passed back by his work, on my way to the store.

Why Siddhartha?  It’s my favorite book.  And as it’s not expensive, I tend to keep multiple copies around so I can give them to random people.  First of all, everyone who reads it gets something from it.  Something meaningful.  I got a strong grasp of spirituality, I think this guy will find some peace and quiet within it.  I also test people with this book.  I’m not testing what you get out of it.  That book is a personal journey and I can’t judge your experience based on mine.  You don’t even have to like the book.  Different strokes, different folks.  I honestly don’t even care if you read it.  I’ve been handed books that I’ll get to eventually but other books crop up first.  No, what I judge you on is your reaction to being handed the book.  See this is a “can we be best friends” test.  If you’re generally receptive to being handed a book, we stand a chance.  If you’re excited, especially after I have explained why this book, hello new best friend.  If you think I’m weird for handing you a book and/or treat it like it has cooties, we don’t stand a chance.

Well, I don’t know his true reaction because I literally threw it at him and ran.

See, I had worked up the courage to hand him the book, after the initial courage to ask him if he reads, and that was about it.  I was highly worried he’d think I was a freak.  I wasn’t prepared for him to actually be busy so not wanting to interrupt, and not wanting to stand and wait my turn in case I lost my nerve, I simply dropped it on the counter next to him, there was a note inside, and was back out the door.  Only, as I’m leaving, out of the corner of my eye, I saw it start flying across the counter headed towards the floor, because apparently this socially awkward, odd duck was less than gentle and didn’t simply place it on the counter.

Not knowing what to do in this situation, I did the only reasonable thing I could think of and ran, not making eye contact with anyone.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is simply me trying to make a friend.  You should see me when I’m actually trying to flirt.

So anyway, I went about my errands and spent that hour or so formulating in my head what to say to him, since I knew I had to go back, unable to leave it at that.  I needed to save face as much as possible as quickly as possible.

So I did my shopping and went back.

He was standing outside on his smoke break when I got back to the gas station an hour later.  I don’t know exactly what I said but it started out to the tune of apologizing for throwing the book, explaining that I’m a socially awkward odd duck (he laughed but not meanly), that was afraid he’d consider a freak,  and that I had kind of panicked.  I went on to explain what I’ve already told you, fine readers, about everyone getting something different out of the book, what I got, and what I thought he might get.  I worked in that I knew he was pretty laid back thanks to my brother-in-law, whom he also knows and is talkative with.  (Said brother-in-law is going to disown me for this stunt.)  So if he was paying attention and not simply praying to himself that I’d go away, he knows I’m married, which also hopefully means he knows this awkward display wasn’t me flirting.  I mentioned I’d like to get to know him, and kind of awkwardly hoped out loud that maybe we could get to be friends.

Then I bought a pepsi off him because at this point the least I could do was give him a sale.

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Isolation Part 5

Posted August 12, 2015 By kmarrs

BPD and the Broken HeartIf it were just 1-2-12 people… But it’s not. It’s seemingly everyone. What is so wrong with me that I can’t make and keep friends? I mean, I know I’m hard to be around sometimes because of my mental health and fibro and such, but I work extra hard at being the most caring, kind, loving, compassionate, empathetic, and loyal person you could ever hope to meet. I’m the person that will help you hide a body, no questions asked. So what is so wrong with me that no one seemingly wants to be my friend?

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Isolation Part 4

Posted August 10, 2015 By kmarrs

BPD and the Broken HeartYou know what? No! I’m not so desperate that I need to campaign for a friend, which is basically what I feel like I’ve been doing for the past week. I am a kind, caring, compassionate, empathetic, loyal friend that will do literally anything for those I care about. If he has to think that over, then well, clearly he isn’t paying attention and isn’t worth my tears.

There have been a lot of tears.

He couldn’t have handled them anyway.

And now I’m down to, well, I will always have the lesbians. And a crippling amount of anxiety and introvertedness that will probably keep things that way for a long time to come.

Isolation

To Be Continued

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Isolation Part 3

Posted August 7, 2015 By kmarrs

hope love and Borderline personality disorder (BPD)

Part 1

Part 2

Remember that best friend I made and then lost around the time Pat and I blew up the second time? I’m calling him Clyde to respect his need for privacy. We’re back in contact. It’d been a full week even of texting back and forward. (This was the same week of the good-bye to my almost lover, actually.) I put on the table that I wanted to be friends again. A fresh start. He’s thinking about it. I guess we’ll see what he says.

I know in my heart that I haven’t been the same since he swept in, and then exploded out of my life. He was the perfect best friend and now there is this bestfriend shaped hole in my heart, in my world, where only Clyde really fits. I can honestly say I love him to death. Not romantic love, he isn’t my almost lover. No one could replace my almost lover, but no one could ever replace Clyde either.

I’m also going to be honest and say that if we become friends again, I think it’s inevitable that we’ll sleep together. First I doubt that chemistry will disappear just because time passed. Also, for me, I’m… Once I connect with someone mentally and emotionally, like I have with Clyde, it’s only natural to me to sleep with them. That’s one reason my marriage is open to begin with. Mind you, this doesn’t happen for me with many people. I can still count on one hand the number of people I’ve slept with in my life, but Clyde… with him I’m not asexual. Never have been and I doubt I ever will be. I’ve never really learned how to tame down lust as I so rarely feel it. So yes, it’s inevitable I’ll sleep with Clyde if he’ll take me back as a friend. But he’ll be my best friend and while it may not be romantic, I do love him to death, so it’s ok.

To Be Continued

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Isolation Part 2

Posted August 5, 2015 By kmarrs

BPD Broken Heart Borderline Personality Disorder

Part 1

On July 17th 2015, I said goodbye to my almost lover. I went to his office with two goals in mind. First I gave him a copy of the children’s book I wrote, for him to give to his son. (Alphabet Antics can be found on Amazon.) I signed it and everything and told him to be sure to read it to the little guy often.

Then I said goodbye. At first he thought I was moving away. I assured him, I wasn’t but then pointed out that the branch he works at isn’t exactly close to my house and that my life wasn’t in that part of town anymore so that I wouldn’t be back.

I then confessed it was getting harder and harder to see him, that how I felt about him would never ever change, but that I couldn’t keep playing the “Maybe this visit he’ll realize he needs me in his life,” game. I know he cares about me. I know he wants me in his life. Just for whatever reason, he can’t find a place for me. And I can’t keep hoping that will change.

I restated both what I wanted and what I needed but that I understood it wasn’t happening and that I needed to walk away because I was getting hurt in the process of all this.

Of course I’m crying through all this, and he’s apologizing, he never meant to hurt me. I know that. I told him I knew that. I assured him I wouldn’t be sitting there if I thought he’d hurt me on purpose. He looked so broken watching me cry, hearing my words.

I then told him that I wasn’t going to say never contact me again. He knows how to get ahold of me, I even made sure. I did warn him though, that if he opens that door he needs to be prepared to walk through it; drinks once a month, right up to my husband has offered our bed. Anywhere in between. I just can’t keep visiting him at the branch and I can’t be the person he texts once in a blue moon. I either need him or I need to move on.

Then I told him goodbye and left.

And that may be the very last I’ll ever hear or see of my almost lover.

There aren’t adequate words in the English language for this pain.

Except maybe: Isolation

To Be Continued

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Isolation Part 1

Posted August 3, 2015 By kmarrs

Borderline Personality Disorder and FriendshipMaybe my story is a story of loneliness. I guess maybe that’s always been my story; one of deep isolation. I don’t know if I’m really that hard to be around, or just too awkward to make friends.

You’ll recall that recently I lost my closest friend due to a slight disagreement on the value of black people. Now my story may be of isolation, but it’s also one of tolerance. I find value in all human beings equally no matter what. Actions of the individual alone are what change the acceptance for that individual. Basically love, or at least tolerate, and be loved in return. Harm none and find your spot in my heart.

It’s a wonder I have no friends.

This leaves me with, aside for a few random acquaintances, Dez and Sarah, my two lovely and beautiful lesbian friends. I point out lesbian because they are a couple and basically come as a set. Which is twice as much win, so I’m not complaining. This duo or complete set shows up at my door once a month and we have a dinner party. Sometimes the theme is fancy party, sometimes it’s pajamas and pizza, but it’s always themed and it’s always great fun.

Dez and Sarah are great friends, but they are basically once a month friends. Unless something major comes up, I only really talk to them once a month at the dinner parties and not much in between unless we’re determining theme or date, which is fine. They are perfect for this and I love my monthly catch up with the girls.

But they are it. They are all I have. And being all I have, they are not enough. I’m left with 29-30 other days of the month in isolation. No one. Nothing. Alone.

To Be Continued

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