Who needs enemies when you have BPD?

I am not in a good way right now. I’m tired, I’m stressed, I’m crying every day and I feel like everyone hates me. It’s been so bad over the past 36 hours that I have considered going into hospital voluntarily before it takes its toll. Husband came home early from work today to take care of me, and he’s exhausted from it too. I’ve slept for 17 hours in total today, and in those hours I’ve had the same dream over and over; Husband leaves me and asks for a divorce, and I have no choice but to go back to Manipulative Ex because I am too stupid to see when someone is making a fool out of me.

I thought I’d got past this warped way of thinking. How is it, that one sentence can turn me into a sobbing, snot-faced child? “I need to talk to you.” So many bad memories come flooding back, an old trick that had been used against me over and over. Manipulative Ex would text me with those words just so he was guaranteed a panicked phone call from me. “But I do need to talk to you, because I love you and miss you,” he would say in that sickly sweet tone, fooling me out of my anxiety enough to engage in a conversation.

Other forms of this sentence are also available.
“We need to talk.” Immediately, this translates as “I need to tell you what you’re doing wrong, and you need to get your coat and never speak to me again.”
“We’ll talk about this when you get home.” That’s one way to make me consider never coming home, especially when given without even telling me what I’d supposedly done wrong.
“We need to have a little chat.” It’s never just a ‘little chat’. It’s usually a brutal decimation of something I’ve said or done under the guise of a nice little natter over some tea and biscuits.

I wonder if normal folks ever disseminate a sentence to this level, or if they drive themselves literally mad with what-ifs and bad memories of the times these words were said before? Or, perhaps it is just another example of borderline personality disorder making absolutely no sense. It makes no sense how the brain develops this condition as a supposed ‘survival technique’ and yet it actually makes it much harder for me to keep on surviving.

I was doing okay. And now I’m not, yet again.

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About Claire

Well-groomed tomboy. I have no idea what I'm doing, but I hide it well.
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