Tag Archives: emotional response

Well now … I never saw that coming

connected
Yesterday, I spent with the Pup – early AM until around 9pm, a long time for 2 people who haven’t done more than text every few days for the past 2.5 weeks.

We hung out, chatted, argued, drank and got messed up on various substances but mostly, we argued with each of us trying to get the other to see their position.

He eventually apologised for behaving like an asshat and things were OK. Around 7pm, we were walking back through the park (that SAME damn park) and he wanted to smoke what was left of our illicit substances before we separated for the night. We found a secluded spot when, all of a sudden, he leaned in to kiss me on the cheek and apologise again and it just kinda escalated. And then it escalated a bit more and then we ended up having sex. In the park. In the rain.

Ooopppps.

I 100%, completely, definitely and absolutely and entirely thought that sex was over between us, I mean the boy said he found the scar from my SH completely disgusting ffs. He was very clear on still wanting to hang but that sex was pretty much off the table.

Huh.

I am also pretty damn sure that it was a very stupid idea to sleep with him. My bad decision-making is not however either particularly new or interesting, what does interest me is that this renewed interest seemed to coincide with the fact that instead of getting upset or quiet when he was arguing/being an ass, I verbally spanked him a few times.

What also interests me is what will happen next.

He has texted and called a few times and wants to catch up in an hour or so …. I am not keen to just get involved in a sex-only thing but there is also no way that this can go any further than it is/has ….

I said to a wise and insightful friend this morning that I am unsure what any of this does/n’t mean and she responded that it means that human connection is very appealing. I am unsure whether she was referring to the Pup or me but have the feeling that she is correct either way.


Why exes fucking suck.

rottenecard_
I recently mentioned my inadvertent visit to my ex last Sunday

You know, the one who ripped my still-beating heart out of my chest last November by dumping me 9 days after I flew 4000kms to be with him?? This happened because I was triggered from the pup. I reached out to the ex, he was keen to hear from me, we talked on the phone for a couple of hours, we skyped, we flirted a bit and he asked me to come and see him … but .. it ended up with me being extremely drunk (well, I had been drinking all day at that point), loaded with xanax (courtesy of the ex) and walking out of the his house with a ‘fuck this’ in his general direction. I don’t even remember getting home. I am still completely stunned that he let me leave in that condition but … not the point.

Point is, about a week had elapsed and I figured I would do the right thing and email to apologise for my behaviour and also to let him know that I had had a dream about him that was actually kinda sweet and when I woke, I realised that although I am far, FAR from over the damage he has inflicted, said damage is not stitched to him anymore; that I was able to look to him with some detachment and warmth, and I wanted to share that with him.

I didn’t actually really expect to hear back from him as he really hates it when I /anybody is drunk and I was reaaaaallllllly drunk so, I figured that he would be too disgusted to get back to me.

But he did …. hoboy .. did he.

What follows are the slightly redacted-for-the-purposes-of-protecting-the-privacy-of-those-involved but this is almost word for word what was exchanged. I include it all for entertainment purposes only and to remind everyone out there: DO NOT CONTACT YOUR EX … EVER .. NEVER, EVER.

EVER.

On with the show

My original email

Hey.

I’m having somewhat of a day of reckoning (as far as such things go) and I
didn’t want to bother you (on the one hand) but, I just woke up from a
dream (thank you barking doggie) and although I am certainly not one to attribute
real life in terms of fate or dreams or the sight of 4 ravens on the
fence, but I had a smoke and decided to write this.

I am sorry about what happened when I went to see you. To be completely
honest, I have very little memory of it except I know I was already drunk
and had leftover coke in my system and it kinda divebombed from there.

Fact is, I really needed somebody to just be there that day and I am
extremely grateful that you tried to be, even if I did fuck it up.

Things actually got progressively worse after I left you. The Monday and
Tuesday of last week were are a blur .. there was a bucketload of more
alcohol and some crystal meth and too much sex and then the inevitable
crash. I ended up in surgery on Thursday night but only because a guy from
work called, got antsy when I didn’t answer the call and came over here to
make sure I was OK. I really wasn’t.

This past year or so … ever since going home from Sydney last year …
have just triggered me beyond belief. And yes, that is tied to and started
with you but it is too far along now to keep using that as a reason. I
keep letting men, or in this current case, a boy into my life who simply
are not capable of doing the right thing and I don’t know why I am drawn
to that, or how to stop it happening but it kinda began with you.

This latest boy has spent a couple of months professing all kinds of thing
to me and chasing me like I was the last woman on earth. I think the sex
was a big part of that (!!), he seemed pretty addicted to that part, but
it went beyond that. And for the first month or so I was not bothered by
any of it. he was very pretty and very sweet and entirely fucked up ..
just my type really. But he is very fucked up even by my standards, and
between the drugs and the alcohol and the going out all the time (every
night) and the losing of jobs weekly .. he just doesn’t stop and it has
been exhausting even watching him from the sidelines.

But he also kept at me emotionally until I began to get attached .. and,
of course, that is when the problems start. I don’t really understand it,
I didn’t want or need the emotional crap, but he pushed and pushed .. I
don’t really get it at all [name]. But I know emotions are not your big
thing so, perhaps I am asking a large brown bear why life is so hard and
expecting answers there. But, I don’t really get why men want to drag me,
sometimes kicking and screaming into the emotional and then look at me
dumbfounded when they find themselves looking into the abyss. He can be
the sweetest of men when he is just here, with me, but the demons he is
running from override everything constantly and he crushes and destroys
everything in his path. Ending up in surgery last week was almost
inevitable really.

I understand that you don’t have any answers for me, nor do you owe me any
.. I’m not asking for them really. But as I said, I had this dream … and
it involved you: it was at my sister’s house and I was in a very large bed
and, for some reason you were there to.

You kind of reached for me with your hand and we had this delicate moment
of intertwining hands and just resting next to each other and I felt very
safe and warm … I NEVER have dreams such as this. I have sex dreams but
even they turn violent at some point. I have perhaps had similar like this
but I don’t ever recall one if I have. I guess I wanted to say both that I
am sorry and that my thoughts of you are somehow tied to the person that I
was before I met you. I am no longer that woman, perhaps I never really
was .. I am not sure, but I found her again in that dream.  I figure that
you tried to teach me not to be so trusting and to try and not put my
emotional self on the line so much .. well, maybe you didn’t try to teach
me that but it is what I should have learned from you, I just didn’t.

This is all a very long-winded way for me to try and say that I am both
sorry for what I did and that I am kinda afraid that I won’t ever get the
chance to say that to you if I don’t do it now. I’m pretty sure that you
don’t really want to hear any of this but perhaps one day you will be able
to read it with the intent of which it is being written.

You see, it doesn’t really matter to me how or when you lied to me or
about what. Not any more. I am pretty sure that there were moments, even
for you, where it wasn’t lies. I am indescribably bad at untangling the
difference between what a man is telling me and what he really means and
that is definitely going to be the end of me it seems. But, at this last
juncture, I just want you understand how very much you meant to me during
all of that time, and how, even now, when I think of you, I do so with
warmth. I have shaken off the shame and embarrassment of having loved you
when you felt no such thing for me, I can live more easily with that these
days.

I have no epiphany to end this with, so I am just going to end it. It is
what it is. But I hope you can forgive me my trespass one day, I am lost
and struggling and I am sorry that you wore some of that.

I hope you are doing OK with your xanax withdrawal and that you find some
answers to how, if at all that affected you.

I am reluctant to say goodbye in this email because it really feels like
goodbye this time.

[me]
xx

His response #1

Hi [me],

The thing is, despite what you might think, benzodiazepines don¹t dull my
senses and/or emotions.
I¹ve always been this way – as far back as I can recall.

Your childhood was frought with abuse and abandonment so these are both
characteristics you¹ve inherited and at the same time, struggle to oppose.

For years I felt that blaming one¹s parents was a total cop-outŠ until I
came back to live in Sydney.
My upbringing wasn¹t as obviously traumatic as yours.
My parents were emotionally cruel but in very VERY sly, slow and subtle
ways. This was a very slow and systematic form of abuse where there just
was a total void of love, affection and strength.
They trained me not to love – not invest in people – not to invest in
myself and the result is a loner who jumps from person to person – from
woman to woman and I can¹t defend myself from any criticism about that
aspect of meŠ but I¹m trying to see when it starts happening and to break
it when it begins.

There really only was one moment between you and me: to act out the very
first fantasy that took place on [redacted] Road in the toilet of the
overgrown house. That was the eternal moment. It literally began and ended
there. It¹s really ³really² harsh. A true sodomal rape fantasy that was
successfully carried out and completed exactly as it was dreamed up.

I sacrificed everything for that one moment and once I had, there was no
turning back on any track.
Nothing else between you and I would ever compare to that one moment again
– but like any addictive drug, one hunts the moment of clarity down again
and again.

Without trying to seem pompous or to tell you what to do, I would strongly
suggest getting on back to [hometown] and returning back to your role as a
[my old job], because your future here will be one of diminishing returns. The
Cross is not fantastic – to burst your bubble for one moment here. It¹s
all fairy light and cockroaches. You¹ll wind up living with people who
will squeeze you out of everything and develop a nasty habit which you
won¹t be able to kick, and from there on, a downward spiral into
homelessness. It¹s too easy – once you¹ve kicked the job and succumbed to
Sydney¹s reality.

Go back to lovely [place I am from and do my old job]. That gave you (I
think) a vast amount of self-satisfaction – quite independent of other
people¹s views and life styles. You still have all your stuff there in
storage, and let¹s not forget the iMac.

I really appreciate all the things you¹ve done for me and helped me out
with. That hasn¹t been forgotten, and, last weekend, when you told me you
were freaking out, I simply wanted to give you a portion of drugs that
would help you cool off and sleep. That was all I had in mind.

But I¹m not the same person you met, and you¹re not the same either – but
be that as it is, I truly feel Sydney is sink holeŠ cleverly disguised as
someŠ culture hub.

We can keep in touch, yet no more delusions please.

Cheers [me],

[him]

My response

I was actually just reaching out as a friend, or for a friend .. someone who knows me a little here and to let you know that I had a dream that  made me realise that I still think or thought of you warmly.
So, yes, I am definitely a little lost and definitely in need of a warm body and release.. but that was all it was. I don’t love you anymore, I got over that quite some time ago. 
I am astounded at  your response and your referral to me as delusional … I’m not at all sure what I was being delusional about or with or to … 
Your email could not have come at a worse time today … but thank you for telling me how it is and always was. 
His final response
Yeah – you always do this [me].
You make out that you were only trying to reach out and then whatever I say is obviously wrong and misconstrued and then you just contradict it at every point.
I honestly can’t be fucked anymore.
Play that game anyway you want.
It’ll be met with silence next time.
_____________________________
So … that all went well huh?
Time with the pup also  went pretty much as I thought it would. A bit if a hit n run session whereby we got high and then he asked me a lot of questions — a few about my arm and what ‘actually’ happened, but whenever I tried to answer him, he cut me off or changed the subject or proceeded to lecture me on the evils of drugs or some such thing.

He was incredibly patronising about how ‘everyone’ has dark days and I should enjoy the sunshine and wonderful day and not let ‘shit get to me’. I then got a lecture  about the dangers of drug use and how I should spend some time ‘thinking’ about my life .. sometimes, there just aren’t words …


It’s happening again …

tumblr_lxlu0lVxtq1r97svbo1_500

 

Things got all explodey with the pup last night. 

Yes I am completely aware that there were red flags.

Yes, I completely get that I should have cut him off totally and had nothing more to do with him or his premature exclamations of adoration.

No, I didn’t do that.

Yes, I am a fucking idiot.

Last night ended with me wandering around at 2am in King’s Cross having no idea where I was, no idea how to get home, no money whatsoever and blind drunk.

The pup turned up completely drunk and somewhat delusional early in the evening. He was extremely paranoid and kept accusing, or rather half-accusing me of these weird things — like being in touch with some woman who calls him because she only ever called after he had been hanging out with me … when I assured him that I was doing no such thing, he accused me of reverse psychology … because, yeah, that’s what that means dude.

I did ask him to leave at one point but he was apologetic and asked me to please sit and talk/hang out with him and (very fucking stupidly) let myself be talked into this.

He was incredibly vile all evening, I can’t put it any other way … he accused me of things, told me I had no idea who he was or what he had been through and then suggested that I was in love with him, which was not a good idea. Now, I have not said or done anything to indicate any such thing — but all the accusations were groundless and there was no reasoning with him. And, yes, I was entirely stupid to even try. But I was drunk, and I was getting hurt and offended and he was triggering the fuck out of me which wasn’t hard as I had been triggered all weekend. But really? He is all over me for 2 months proclaiming how into me he is and somehow this means that I am in love with him?

The next part however, I cannot blame anybody but myself for and I am shaking my head at myself even as I write it: At some point, the pup decided that he wanted to go into the city and get some drugs .. he asked me to go along for the ride and I agreed. halfway there, I realised that I had left my wallet behind but as he was paying for cabs both way, I wasn’t too concerned.

During the taxi ride, he got verbally abusive and almost physically violent with the cab driver over .. well .. nothing really, he was just out of control. When we arrived at wherever-the-hell we were, I was completely freaked out due to the taxi incident and I walked off .. he ran after me, and pointed out that I had nowhere to go and no money to go there with and promised he would behave. So, I went with him to the pub where the deal was taking place and he bought me a drink and went to meet the girl he was meeting.

Being very drunk already, I jumped in on a table where 3 guys were drinking and as they were Canadians, we played with an iPad somebody had showing each other where we all from .. and then I realised that the pup had been gone for some time …

I asked the Canadian guys where the hell I was and how the hell I could get home and one of them was good enough to get me down to the train station to get a train for the 1st leg of the journey. At some point, between trains, I must have looked so lost as a young guy came over and helped me to figure out what my next train/s were and I managed to get home … without buying a ticket at any stage — thank you Sydney rail for leaving the ticket gates wide open after 11pm!

At some point on one of the train trips, the pup and I spoke one the phone and he told me he was already home — I don’t recall much else of the conversation but one of us hung up on the other one … twas all very dramatic. Then, I get a text from my roomie saying that the pup had turned up at the house and stomped about like he owned the place demanding to know where I was and that the roomie had been forced to tell him to fuck off. Wonderful.

I got home, went to bed and woke up to a missed call and a text from the pup asking if I was OK. I responded that I was a very fucking long way from OK and to please never contact me again.

He wrote back that he was sorry about last night and that he was so wasted and didn’t mean anything he said (no mention of leaving me in King’s Cross). Then he called a few times. I didn’t respond to the text and didn’t answer the calls.

Yes, it is my fault that I get involved with psychotic men.

Yes, I should most certainly have known better, I mean, I did know better, I KNEW this boy was about to snap, crackle and pop but … I just had to have one last dip into the cookie jar.

ginat-twin-peaks


My brain is going to explode …

marvin

I am what appears to be a fairly together person.

I function socially, I can be witty and charming on demand and I have decent qualifications. If anything, people tend to write off my nomadic and somewhat isolated lifestyle as one of my ‘quirks’.

Thing is, I am not ‘quirky’. I am out-of-control. There is always SOMETHING in my life that is in crisis and I am always avoiding it and/or outright pretending it isn’t happening. And I don’t mean small things, I mean things like work crises, housing crises, substance abuse crises .. the big stuff.

Nobody ever knows about this stuff because, when it gets bad (and it inevitably does), I cannot bear to even think about it, let alone ask for help or .. Yoda forbid .. address the problem.

Right now I am avoiding calls from work because they want me to arrange for a government check so that I can do one particular aspect of my job. I haven’t done it, I don’t have the money for it and I cannot deal with it … so I am avoiding calls, turning down my phone and just internally freaking out. I have an iMac and some belongings across the other side of the country with a friend and she has to move and has asked me to contact her with regards to my stuff .. and I just cannot bring myself to do it and the fact that I have ignored it for 2 weeks means that now she will be angry as well – and I don’t blame her – but that just means that I REALLY cannot face calling her … and I am terrified of losing my computer. I also have everything I own in storage over there but have not paid my bill in months … I wake every day in dread that everything I own has been auctioned off but again, I cannot bring myself to call or email. You get the drift …

When I try to MAKE myself address these things, my mind literally shuts down and panic sets in … I just .. can’t.

Try and explain this to a professional or even a friend and they will try to ‘guide’ me through the steps needed to make the call/take action … they don’t get that I understand what I need to do, I am not an idiot, but, I physically and psychologically CANNOT make myself do it. I just shut down. And so the situation escalates … rinse and repeat.

I don’t want to be this way.


But, I DON’T rage.

james-gandolfini

I have done a lot of reading around BPD. A lot. 

I have read and re-read the 9 criteria for diagnosis and although many of the criteria are vague and/or difficult to interpret as to how they actually manifest or look/feel like, the one that isn’t difficult is the criteria of raging outbursts.

According to the diagnostic criteria, anger/rage looks like this:

  1. Inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (e.g., frequent displays of temper, constant anger, recurrent physical fights). 

I don’t do this.

I never rage and I don’t have difficulty in controlling my anger.

In fact, I rarely, if ever feel angry towards others – even when anger would be highly justified and understandable.

I used to and have had these ‘rages’ but even then, they were few and far between.

Now, I don’t know if I have simply shut my anger down forever or if I truly don’t feel it. I have no idea.

I guess self-harm could come under rage and anger. I am often furious with myself and demonstrate spiteful, vindictive and hateful emotions towards me … but not towards others, I tend to feel adoration or indifference – usually indifference although, to all outward appearances I am kind, sympathetic, friendly and generally thought of as a ‘people’ person.

During the moment/s I am with people, I often do feel pleasure/enjoyment in their company – but it doesn’t really go beyond the moment and it is unusual for me to feel anything for somebody once they are gone. Unless I am attracted to them sexually and then … well then it is constant and I cannot NOT think about them.

But I digress.

What I am wondering is, if I don’t rage or create arguments (I have a massive fear of confrontation actually) … can I really be BPD?