Tag Archives: splitting


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.

Wrecked …

I haven’t cried since Monday during my psych visit.


I am pretty sure that’s a record for the last 6 months or so. In fact, I had crying on my to-do list because it had become central to my day and I figured it was better to get it out-of-the-way sooner rather than later so I could get on with everything else that needed to be done.

I also actually stopped and looked at some boots while out shopping for food and while that may sound innocuous, I have lived in Sydney for around 7 months without buying a thing so, all things considered, it’s a small step for mankind and all.

Oh. I also stole an electric blanket (this is a confessional post after all). I score up into the stratosphere with risky behaviour – tick all boxes except sex … although, even that isn’t true – when the ex and I first met in person (after a few months as online-only), we met for sex. No coffee, no polite conversation, just hard sex – my idea, my choice .. so, I guess that was risky.

I am still drinking far, FAR too much than I should be .. I mean, it’s out of control.

I have never had a drinking issue until this past year-or-so. I always looked down upon alcohol as a last resort. I have used and abused many, many drugs in my time and truth-be-told, I would rather be using and abusing drugs right now but .. new city= no contacts = take what I can get. I don’t think substance abuse is going away anytime soon for me .. I NEED to change my reality every single day and unlike the effect of mood stabilisers, antipsychotics or (Yoda forbid), SSRI’s, I am not hankering to feel ‘normal’; I need to feel detached. Being normal is like a proxy death sentence to me, it’s like I get put on mute and I become this semi-functioning member of a society that I know for a fact is corrupt, egocentric and destructive.


Can pwBPD ‘really’ love?

I frequent a couple of forums both for pwPD’s and for those trying to make sense of their pwPD …

and one of the questions that seems to come up over and over again, on both sides of the fence (if you will) is whether or not what the pwBPD can ‘really’ feel love.

I come from this question from both sides; I was brutally discarded by my Uex and found myself asking if he every really loved me in the way that I thought he did, in fact, the question of whether it had all just been a big lie haunted me for months and months.

I also know what it is like to be the one who walks away, who is accused of being cold and/or indifferent.

Fact is, both sides suck.

I have read A LOT about the discarding by pwPD’s (I say PD’s rather than just BPD because I am fairly certain my ex is comorbid, especially with NPD) and while I read about the devalue/discard and remember my own, I don’t see my own behaviour at all. I think back to the endings of prior relationships and I never once did the kind of 180 that my ex did, never just ‘woke up’ on morning and pretty much decided it was over for no conceivable reason.

But then I began to think about my only real LTR (14 years) and how I checked out of that one completely. It was years before I left (there were children involved) but once he had been split black, there was no going back. I could like him again, he was my friend, but I was never going to idealise and love him like I did in the early years – and believe me, I adored this man.

I also realised that I do indeed split other people frequently: family, friends, co-workers … workplaces .. I do it over and over again. So much so that I have no long-term friendships and am not in touch with any family except for my sons.

I can only speak of my own experience about splitting, but for me, it is a moment of indifference. Sometimes (but not very often) it comes from being angry at somebody – if they push me too far or confront me — this doesn’t happen often as I am not a very confrontational person for one thing and I am very good at disappearing before true confrontation can occur. I have literally walked away from homes, careers and people and never, ever looked back (and never wanted to). I usually hate having contact with or hearing about anything I have left behind because it is just too overwhelming to deal with — I up and ‘left’ for a reason; usually because I could not deal with what was happening and sometimes simply because I was bored.

For example, I have not had any contact with my family for about 2 years. I was in contact for about 8 months in 2012 but prior to that, I had not spoken to them in around 7 years. This doesn’t and didn’t bother me in the slightest. It is my choice to not be in contact, in fact, I stay away from FB and change my mobile (cell) number every 6 months or so just to ensure that nobody can ever really track me down. My kids know where I am, but they know me well enough never to tell my sister (the only one who ever really looks for me) exactly where I am.

In the back of my mind, I KNOW I love my family, I objectively love them. I do not wish them any harm (well, I wouldn’t mind having my sister’s husband tied to a chair and being in possession of a sharp implement – but that is a completely different tale) and I hope they are safe and well. But in all honesty, I rarely think about them.

Christmas Eve 2012, I was at home by myself, I had spent a few hours on Skype with my (ex)lover and my kids were coming over the next day. My sister lived next door at that time and had invited me to a small-ish party which I declined because I cannot stand her husband or her friends and we were kinda on the outs because I owed her and her husband rent money. So, it was a bit awkward (and potentially confrontational). After midnight, my sister came to my door, very drunk, and fell into my sofa. She then proceeded to tell me how much she loved me, how, as a child, I was the most loving creature she had ever known, that she would always love me etc.

I ended up crying … not because ‘she loved me’, but because she could never understand me and because I could never explain it to her … because she ‘thought’ she loved me but really … she has never known me and never would so, how could she love me? I’m positive she took my tears as empathy/regret/love but they really weren’t about her at all, they were all about me (as awful as that is to admit).

I split my sister black years before when she walked in on a suicide attempt. She found me bleeding after I slit my wrists and her reaction was to scream at me for being selfish and stupid – both valid points – but the shame she piled on me compounded with the shame I was already feeling was simply too much, is still to this day too much and she was dead to me in a most fundamental way from that moment on.


My oldest brother refused to come and help me when I was in dire need of assistance moving – I am somebody who very really asks for help and he had been absent from my life for 7 years at that point. I phoned him because I was desperate but he was not prepared to help. I will probably never speak to him again due to that one incident. I can’t help it, I felt completely rejected by him in that moment and I will never give him that opportunity again.

Did I ever truly ‘love’ them? I guess so, I mean I cognitively know that I did indeed, love them. I had been especially close to my sister in my mid teens (she is 10 years older than me) but I cannot go back to that place before the shame, it’s just not there. I have the memories of spending time with her before that happened and they are pleasant enough, but there is simply no access to the warm feeling I must have had toward her, or my brother.

Did I/do I ‘truly’ love them? Absolutely… I think.

As for lovers … for me this is a different story/pathology and I will write more about that in another post.

Screaming on the inside


I am finding it increasingly difficult to moderate what is going on inside to what comes out on the outside. 

Usually, my public ‘persona’ works pretty well .. she clicks into place and manages to turn my weird thoughts into charming sarcasm but lately this is failing me .. I made a grown man blush tonight … I couldn’t stop the thoughts in my head forming sentences in my mouth .. I am getting more provocative by the day and I can’t seem to stop.

This wouldn’t be so bad except for the fact that this is happening at work .. I am falling apart and I don’t know how to stop that from happening. I KNOW it’s just a matter of time before something really bad happens.

Something really bad always happens.

I tried to socialise. It didn’t go so well.


I went out with a group of people from work last night. 

I had been looking forward to this for a week or so, had my ticket and everything but when the time came to actually go, I really, REALLY didn’t want to – I just wanted to curl up with a good bottle of vodka and watch GoT.

But, I made myself go.

This particular group have become quite special to me; we have all started with our company in the last 6 months or less and most of us work the same late-night shifts and there is a nice sense of camaraderie between us … I am the oldest by quite a bit but, this doesn’t usually make a huge difference – (except for music talk, when they drift to music, I end up nodding and trying to look like I have a vague notion of a penguin fuck what they are on about when, not only have I no idea, I have no inclination to develop one).

The first part of the night was great, we were all excited to be out in a group together and to have time to drink and talk.

But as the night wore on, a couple of them began to really piss me off. They got loud and boring and talked over the top of everyone else (OK, me).

I actually experienced myself splitting people while they were sitting directly opposite me.

Up until a few months ago, I never even realised I did this – with every person I have walked away from, cut out of my life, stopped contacting or become bored with (and that is pretty much everybody EVER), it seemed … normal to be feeling that way – justified (last night seems justified as well).

I feel angry at myself for being so judge-y … annoyed at the behaviour of the people I have split … sad that I have lost them … and abandoned by their inability to be who I thought they were. Completely self-centred of me of course … seeing their behaviour in terms of how it made ME feel.

I kept trying all night to overlook how they were behaving or to change the dynamic that seemed to be causing it but the 2 people in question just would not, could not, tone it down.

And now, they are ridiculous to me. And there is no coming back from that.