Category Archives: splitting


It’s been a triggering few days.

I am feeling excessively isolated and alone and coupled with that, really vulnerable — it’s not a good mix.

My pup has been really triggering, well, not him per se, but the situation and my emotive responses to that. His whispering of sweet nothings for hours on end have become a rather delightful sugar but, at the same time I know that the situation simply cannot go on.

But … I am drawn to his gushing/s about me, his inclination to want to tell me how much I affect him and how much he likes me. He is a pretty boy, no doubt about that but, he is not only far too young, he is also far too unsuitable for a variety of reasons and yet … I crave the sugar and feel rejected that he has vanished for almost a week.

healthy people would no doubt be able to separate these issues and maybe even see them for what they are and ‘learn something’ (I’m uncertain I have learned anything beyond my ABC’s and even they get a tad blurry at times) …

I guess, my point is that I am still in no condition to be feeling any sort of emotion toward another person in any capacity I am completely ill-equipped to deal with uncertainty; it actually feels like cruel and unusual punishment … I am getting physically sick having uncertainty re-enter my life.

I would rather cut and run that ‘wonder’ or try to manage these conflicting feelings.



Let’s talk about sex ..


I keep reading about how sex with a pwBPD = pornstar sex, addictive sex … the kind of sex that makes it hard to walk away and makes it oh-so easy to want to recycle.

Why is this?

I don’t know what it is like to have sex without having BPD. I always assumed that the sex I have is the sex that everybody has … but my pup (yes, he is back) has said a couple of things to me recently, as did my most recent ex, that make me think that perhaps I am a little bit too into sex.

And, yes, this is a problem.

As always, I am only speaking from my own experiences, but, all of the reading I have done of late seems to indicate that this is a BPD phenomena, feel free to disagree.

Sex is everything to me. It is the place/space whereby I know that I am the complete focus of the person I am with. It provides me with a time that I KNOW for certain that I can show my complete emotions without fear of being ‘too much’ (a constant fear). It is also the only time that I know for certain that my love is not leaving … he is with me for that moment and I feel free to both express myself and revel in his adoration. It is the only time I am whole, the only thing that matters. I am you and you adore me and that is everything; that is all that matters.

Yes, it’s fucked up.

The next morning brings about problems after such a blood-letting; it leaves everybody feeling raw and exposed … and quite often, this results in silence: how do find language to encapsulate what you have just experienced? Well, you don’t, you really, really don’t.

My experience is that the lover is either then all-in or, they run like a scared white rabbit.The problem is that anyone who doesn’t run is getting off on the supply that BPD sex provides and therefore,  has their own issues, it’s a nuclear disaster waiting to happen. Not everyone wants to be swallowed whole and those that do .. they have their own shit going on.

The next morning also brings the abandonment fears — what if that was the last time? What if you have changed your mind and I will never see you again? What if I was too much and you have to run? What. if?

In a perfect world, I would wake up in a lover’s arms and fall asleep to sweet nothings. Work, responsibilities, life, the universe — they would cease to exist. it’s not just the physical, it’s the feeling of being safe, if only for a moment.

You are not the last person I fucked either

You don’t get to be that.

You don’t get to own that.

I won’t give you that satisfaction.

Conversations with dead people



I don’t understand splitting.


I have read the DSMV criteria and I have read others’ accounts but I can honestly say that I haven’t understood how this applies to me. In fact, I assumed this was another one of the criteria that didn’t apply to me.

But, recently, I have begun to realise that I do split … I certainly split my family/friends/colleagues but, because these relationships are all-but meaningless to me, I guess I overlooked them. For me, my BPD comes out in all its glory mainly in romantic attachments and as I say this I really want to emphasise that I mean ALL it’s glory — the self-harm, crazy-behaviour, fear of abandonment etc .. it all comes to the forefront in romantic and sexual attachments. I know that I split/betray/abandon other core relationships but, that doesn’t really bother me, if somebody pisses me off or challenges me or bores me then I move on — but not with my romantic partners, with them, I am stuck, and I ruminate and I self-harm and I cannot let go. They are more affective if you like.

I have thought about how I don’t seem to split my ex’s. It doesn’t matter how they have treated me or how terribly things ended, I don’t automatically split them black and just ‘move on’ like (apparently) most pwBPD do.

What I have come to realise is that I DO actually split black — only, I split myself black.

When I am (inevitably) discarded, abused, abandoned by yet another lover, I continue to adore them and hate myself. I hold myself (and am currently holding myself) accountable for everything that went wrong. I am not young/pretty/thin/amusing/healthy/stable/whatever enough to have held the attention of my lover. I am disgusting, revolting, dirty, hideous, sad, empty, unlovable and deserve everything that is happening. How could someone as wonderful as my love object ever be attracted to someone like me beyond the initial infatuation?

This always manifests physically as well. I go from being reasonably fit and functioning to being addicted, overwhelmed and at the mercy of my emotions and circumstances. How have I not seen this before? I am not speaking in metaphors here, I have literally gone from being on the top of my game to being all-but homeless; from being attractive, educated and charming to a dithering nothing who can barely function.



I am unsure if this realisation is good/bad/indifferent — it’s just another recognition that I am far from healthy where love is concerned I guess.

Measuring my self-worth through POF

My ex frequents POF (internet dating site).


I don’t know if he used POF while we were seeing each other, but I do know that he used it when he began to devalue me; and that he used it to cheat on me.

I actually knew about his profile because he showed it to me and assured me that he had the profile only to assure his then live in GF that he was looking far and wide (and not just at me) and because he had shown it to me, I assumed it meant nothing. Stupid, stupid girl.

When we split, he used to spend hours and hours on the site and although this made me sick in the beginning, I came to see it as a reassurance because, if he was on POF then he wasn’t ‘happy’ with his current conquest right?

I checked and check his profile every single day because it made me feel secure that he was not entirely happy with whoever he was courting fucking.

Yeah, you know where this is heading.

A few weeks ago, he stopped checking his profile every day, and then, he stopped checking it at all. And I am freaking out because this ‘obviously’ means that he has found-the-person-that-is-not-me-and-she-will-make-him-happy-and-is-worth-his-love-and-devotion-and-it-was-obviously-me-all-along-and-why-doesn’t-he-love-me?

He stops checking a stupid dating site and I want to kill myself.

And they say we are fickle and have no idea how to love with longevity — what a joke.