A Tribute to the Man Who Stuck Around With My BPD
This is the man who has made every bit of my journey worth it.
This is the man who has been my voice when I’ve been too weak to talk.
This is the man who visited me every day in hospital despite working a full-time job and studying all night.
This is the man who has dragged me to every doctor’s appointment.
This is the man who has been on the receiving end of many, many episodes and has done everything in his power to pull me out of them, no matter how much I lash out at him or try to push him away.
This is the man who has seen me with dark rings under my eyes, unwashed hair, self-harm marks all over my body, and has still told me I am beautiful and I am perfect.
This is the man who has literally picked me up off the floor and held me in his arms when my body is limp and I can’t stop crying.
This is the man who has begged me to stay and keep fighting when I’ve completely lost my will to live.
This is the man who has built me up, even when he is broken down and completely drained.
This is the man who makes sure I always take my medication every day at the same time when I lose track of time or even days.
This is the man who has run my baths, cleaned the apartment, fed me, clothed me and put me to bed on really difficult days when my condition is in full force and it doesn’t even occur to me to take care of my physical needs.
This is the man who has researched and read up on everything he can so that he can help me and love me as best he can.
This is the man who has never judged me. He has never called me crazy, difficult, draining or “too much.” He has never told me to “snap out of it” or accused me of trying to sabotage my own life or run from responsibility.
Every day of my life I am showered with love and affection. Lord knows I’ve been hard to love. He stuck around no matter how hard it was on him. His emotional strength over the past few months has been astounding. He is always cheerful, always witty, always upbeat.
He is always accommodating and always aware of what I need. He will cancel any plans or leave gym, shopping centers or social events when he can see I’m becoming overwhelmed and anxious and I need to get out before it’s too late.
He is not perfect, he makes mistakes and we don’t always get it right. But the depth of his love for me is sometimes the only strength I have. His ability to carry me through, unconditionally, and still tell me every day that I’m the woman he wants to spend the rest of his life with surprises me every day. Dealing with a chronic illness (whether it be physical or mental) can be the hardest for the people who love us.
I promise you the right people stick around. I promise you that settling for people who never text you back, people who sit on the fence, people who are only around when it suits them or when it’s beneficial to them is not worth it. I promise who the right person will show up at the right time in your life and make you question why you ever bothered with anyone else before them. I promise you, not all men are the same (although I hate this phrase because women are capable of the same mistreatment).
If they can’t love you when you are the hardest to love, they simply are not worth it.
Thank you, baby, for loving me when I couldn’t love myself.
If you struggle with self-harm and you need support right now, call the crisis hotline at 1-800-273-8255 or text “START” to 741-741. For a list of ways to cope with self-harm urges, click here.
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Thinkstock photo via KQconcepts