For all intents and purposes this is yet another hodgepodge of a bunch of things I’m going through.
In roughly 3 months it’ll be two years since my ex and I broke up. Honestly I took it better a week after it happened than I am now. I have never experienced this level of grief ever in my life and quite frankly I don’t think I’m cut out for it. I had decided I would get a tattoo to remind me of him. It would act as homage to the impact he’s made on my life. Truthfully a conversation with him can leave me in a tailspin so I can only imagine what looking at that tattoo would do, but what else do I do?
Besides that there’s a stark realization that I’m not his. He doesn’t consider me close, a friend, a girlfriend, a partner, nothing. I’m nothing to him. And really I’m nothing to anyone. I’m alone in this. I’m clinging onto him and yet I’m nothing but a memory to him. And to be clear, I don’t think I’m nothing to him at all. Although he may say the most hurtful things to me, I know that there’s a part of him that still cares for me and my wellbeing. I also know that he’s living in the present/present, the time where it’s obvious that we aren’t friends, aren’t close and are fighting (mostly me) our way out of toxicity. I, however, am living in a present hope. I am aware that we aren’t close or friends and yet delusional enough to think that resolve and reconciliation is just a few conversations and a few changed behaviors away. Trying to reconcile his reality (the external truth) with mine (a truth unrealized) is not working out well.
Next to that is the realization that ultimately, I am alone. I truthfully, honestly, realistically have 1 friend that will be there for me when I need them…only there are boundaries that make tapping into that difficult (besides the regular challenges of my being cautious about leaning on others). There are people around me who have their lives falling apart and can’t take me on (not perceived but realistically). There’s a friend who doesn’t believe I’m actually depressed (there are still those who don’t know that a smile does not mean the absence of depression). There are friends who are just busy living their lives (which I do not blame them for in the slightest). So when I say I’m not doing well it frequently falls on deaf ears. And I’m not trying to make this seem bigger than it is but this is really the first time I’ve gotten to dwelling on seriously lethal methods of suicide. I’ve come off of the idea of passive death, im more committed to ensuring the job is done. And in that thought, I’m alone as well.
I’m also left to think about the toll BPD has on my life. The little quirks that are similar to autism are cool and funny and I don’t take too seriously(not that autism isn’t serious, but those I can live with). It’s when I see others talking frankly (which actually doesn’t happen often, most BPD threads are about rage and splitting and very little to do with the everyday challenges) about their need to always discuss what’s on their minds; the guilt of dating someone and not wanting them to suffer through the pile of mess that is you; the fact that you see yourself making bad decisions and you’re incapable of stopping yourself from doing it anyway. I am beyond tired of seeing myself trapped in this situation, in this cycle and being unable to do anything about it.
So in conclusion, I am depressed and suicidal but have not the support to mitigate the effects. I am alone in my actual thoughts and feelings and more so I have no place in the life of the person whose life I want to be in most. I am experiencing complicated grief beyond what I feel is bearable and he can’t and won’t do anything to help. But to end on a high note…I engaged in some forms of therapy recently (creative writing/spoken word; art therapy and drumming). No they didn’t solve the problem nor did they distract for a long time but they were still amazing outlets. As a psychologist, I would advise anyone to try them (partial to the drumming-it was exceptionally freeing). So the high note is that I’m doing something to help. Granted I’m doing it because I don’t want my ex to have to grieve my death or feel a sense of guilt about the breakup and maintaining his distance (which is wild because I’m still doing things with him in mind despite not overtly getting that in return). Nevertheless, something is something.
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