Our stories
I believe I have BPD. This is a new revelation for me, sort of. I think I always knew something was wrong with me though.
My father had BPD but was never diagnosed until 2 years before he died. He was mostly a miserable man. He hid his disorder from anyone outside the immediate family. We got the brunt of his anger and fear. It was my sister and my mom and myself. I always knew Dad couldn’t help it, and loved him a lot. I also hated him.
So admitting I possibly have BPD as well is very disconcerting to me. All of my life I operated out of fear. As a toddler my parents or rather my father would fight with my mother. He would scream and lecture for hours and even days at a time.
I remember at 5 years old standing between them and begging them to stop fighting. They stopped that time. Once I saw the power I had, I believed I was their marriage counselor. I believed it was my job to keep peace, and was made prisoner while listening to my father bore on and on about how miserable he was, and I’d beg my mother to get out of bed and come cook dinner.
We all had to swallow his misery. When I reached puberty and started misbehaving he would get so mad while lecturing me, he’d literally foam at the mouth. I’m not talking about opaque foam. I’m talking about thick solid white foam coming out of his mouth. I didn’t even know that was possible. It was horrific.
Once, when I was 17 and working full time, my father called me and pleaded with me to come home to talk to mom because it had been days since she got out of bed. I acquiesced. It worked. All was well with the world again. It sucked! I didn’t know how to stop this craziness.
I was painfully shy during school and quit in 11th grade to go to night school and graduate. I couldn’t take the pressure. Actually my father suggested I quit because of (its a very long story) and I liked the idea. I’d never even considered it was an option before. Night school was my boyfriends mother’s idea. I acquiesced.
I remember taking an interpersonal communication course and pored over the book. I was only 17 and already knew something was not right with me. I read that we should find a person we admire, actor or in real life, and imitate their qualities until you become like them. That was my religion. It worked, I thought. I started making friends and dating more. Now I realize it was a whole lot of pressure I couldn’t take. But that’s how I lived for decades.
I‘m also moderately to severely deaf in both ears. This added to my stress and made me act ‘weird’. I saw myself as a weirdo. I was taught to read lips and I would focus so hard when someone spoke to me. I’m certain I must have freaked out many people. But at any rate, it added to the pressure that would build up in me.
I wanted to be loved so badly I would date almost anyone. Well, I was selective to a degree. 
He had to be reasonably good looking and cool. Lol But once I started having boyfriends, it became an addiction. 2 1/2 years with one guy from 15-17. He got me pregnant and his sister said she’d pay for the abortion. I acquiesced. He broke up with me and I begged him to take me back. It crushed me.
Then moved on to the next guy. My father suggested we get married. He agreed. I went along with it at only 17 years old. 2 years later and through a tumultuous relationship, he broke up with me and annulled our marriage.
Then I met a guy on bycicle and invited him to share my apartment as gf/bf, day’s after my first husband left me. I didn’t even really like him but I had to be with someone. Anyone. 8 months and I broke up with him because of alcoholism. But I was devastatedwith my life.
I decided at that point I needed to focus on myself and I joined a religion (I left that religion 2 years ago) that was all consuming. 3 years later I met my husband. 7 months later we were married. I was in heaven. The planets were aligned.
He was perfect. I adored him. Worshipped him. He listened to my agonies too many times. Stayed up late with me many many nights. He also became my interpreter when I needed help hearing. I love him so much. We also have had a lot of fun. We’d have arguments but I always knew he loved me and would never leave me.
Then he started having issues himself. He got into porn in secret and then strip joints, then lap dances and then as of 2 years ago he cheated on me with paid ‘massage’ therapists. It shattered me. But I put on my super woman clothes and went to therapy with him and talked and talked and cried and cried. I was going to fix him. I guess I needed it more than him.
Now, he appears to be settled in his decision to stay away from any of that stuff. He says he feels very different now. This time it will work, he feels. Therapy made a huge difference.
So.... everything is going well. Our relationship is great. But I’m crashing. It’s been 2 months now that I’ve been depressed and isolated and can’t function most days in doing even the basic chores or errands. I’d been having the strong feeling of wishing I were dead. Although since coming here I am not feeling that lately. Thank you by the way. 
I am incapacitated by my emotions. I’m waiting for our couples therapist to refer me to my own but nothing yet. I’m feeling a little excitement about being diagnosed with bpd and doing something about it finally.
I’m 55, reasonably healthy and reasonably attractive still and I want to live. It’s so lonely inside this head of mine. Isolation is not pretty. Lol
I thank all of you for being there and for sharing all of your stories. It’s been truly a huge healing for me. I want to share my journey of healing with all of you, now in hopes it’ll be of some help. If I can be a hearing ear for any of you, please allow me. My problems are not so big that I don’t want to be there for others. I love people.
Feel free to tell me what you think of my story. I am not easily offended and would love to hear your thoughts.
