October 20, 2016, 3:00 am
Trigger/situation: I was talking to my friend about histrionic personality disorder and we talked about how we both fit the diagnostic criteria.
Emotional response: 60%, emotional, kind of sad
Behaviors/thoughts: I realized that a lot of the time I can’t stop talking about myself. While conversing with other people, sometimes I feel like I have to literally restrain myself from discussing topics pertaining to me once again, as if it’s a physical force that I have to fight against. I feel like it’s ruining my relationships and friendships because my friends are getting sick of my self-absorption. It’s hard to get around it and I cried because it felt like most of my friends hated me for it. I’m meaner than I used to be and overly concerned about myself, and I feel like that makes me a worse person. Talking to my friend about it did help, but I was sad because I still wondered, “What if no one ever loves me because I’m like this?”
Soon after that incident, my best friends kicked me out of the group chat and refused to let me back in. I didn’t understand why, but my premonitions about them hating me were right. Since I continued demanding answers for their changed behavior towards me, they finally revealed to me how much they hated my personality and the person I’d become. Although I’d changed over the past year, I honestly did not think I was that bad of a person. I just cared about myself a little too much, and is that really so bad? Apparently, because they thought I was insufferable. My ex best friends then continued to list everything that was wrong with me, every shitty thing I had done. I took it all in and convinced myself that I was a horrible person who didn’t care about her friends and instead sought attention within every interaction. Since I constantly talked about my problems and made no progress in resolving them, it meant I was stuck in a rut of self-pity where I expected everyone to coddle me and love me despite the fact that I made no intention to try to better myself.
Over a year later, I have much better friends who provide me with reciprocal love and emotional support. I am working to improve my mental health; I have a psychiatrist I see regularly, and I am on medication for my disorders. Although my former friends didn’t believe in my self-diagnosis, histrionic personality disorder definitely served as a stepping stone for me to get professionally diagnosed with borderline personality disorder. While I definitely exhibited the self-absorption and attention-seeking behaviors that characterized both disorders, one of my main symptoms involved my intense romantic relationships, characterized especially by my deep attachment and constant efforts to avoid abandonment.
The moment I really knew I had BPD was definitely when I realized I had a favorite person who I would do anything for. In a previous article, linked below, I described what the fp relationship entails in more detail.
A few months ago, I was crying in the bathroom after sending a text to this guy who I was dating at the time. Whatever we had was undefined; he told me he didn’t want a relationship, but he continued to act like a boyfriend. I’d met his family and he took me out on dates in nice restaurants. We saw each other exclusively for the next few months. It was essentially a relationship without the label. Obviously, I grew attached to him despite my attempts to avoid doing so. Every time I tried to break it off with him, there was something holding me back from going through with it completely.
“Why are you still seeing him if he doesn’t want a relationship?” my therapist had asked me one session.
“It’s kind of hard to explain. I know it sounds dumb, but I really like being with him. I know he’s going to break my heart, but I’m happy whenever I spend time with him. I’d rather be with him for a little while and get my heart broken than not be with him at all. Do you know what I mean?” I tried to justify my irrationality. My therapist acted like she understood, although it was obvious she didn’t support my self-destructive tendencies.
One day, I had sent him a text, I forgot exactly about what. It may have had to do with planning another date, or expressing the fact that I missed him. It was risky for sure, and since he did not reply for a few hours, I assumed that he no longer wanted to talk to me. Since our relationship was undefined and he had previously expressed wanting to date other people (which he never actually did), I assumed that he was on a date with another girl. I had a full breakdown over not getting a text back, crying my heart out. It felt like the pain was coming from deep within me, and I was going to be irreparably broken forever. He had abandoned me because I wasn’t good enough; he left me just like everyone else had before him. I was worthless and a burden on everyone. Our relationship meant so much to me that I was convinced I was never going to experience the same thing ever again. Since he had left me, it meant that all my future relationships would end in the same way. No one would ever love me again; I wasn’t meant for love in the first place. The world would be better off without me.
Soon after I finished crying, he texted me back saying he had been sleeping and writing a script for a film he was working on.
I texted him back nonchalantly, feeling ridiculous for the breakdown I’d had over him. Although he hadn’t actually abandoned me, my reaction to the perceived abandonment made me realize that I actually did have BPD, and that he was my fp.
Since then, I’ve done more research and faced the reality of the relationships I had with my fp’s. Every moment spent with my fp was pure bliss; his existence and tie to me was what gave my life purpose. The break ups, however, were brutal and left me suicidal. The cycle then repeated after a while, as I imprinted on the next person and developed an emotional bond so deep it felt like we were made for each other.
BPD is difficult to manage and deal with, especially when it comes to romantic relationships. I’m trying to focus on preventing the symptoms from controlling my life, through rationalization and finding healthier coping mechanisms. However, the fp relationship is still an important part of having BPD for me, one that I know will probably continue for the rest of my life. While I may not be able to get rid of the degree of intense attachment I have to the person, I definitely can work on how to better interact with the person. For instance, I won’t lash out on my fp if I feel like they are abandoning me when they clearly aren’t, or split on them for the littlest things that make me jealous. This way, I can have a healthier relationship in which I do not put too much pressure on my fp to fit a romanticized version of a person that does not exist.
