To My Wife, From Your Husband With Borderline Personality Disorder
To My Wife,
I have watched you over the course of our relationship walk over many mountains. You have become a homemaker, a mother and a wife.
You juggled everything with such grace, intelligence and humility — even as your husband found it harder to keep being the man you knew. Something wasn’t right, but you still lay down next to me every night.
When I was scared, I ran away and hid. You carried on with our children, with your job, with our house and you dragged it all with you like Wonder Woman. Why? I know it’s because you had to.
I am sorry that my borderline personality disorder (BPD) got in the way of our family and us. I want you to know that despite the poor choices, the exhaustion and what you’ve seen as laziness, I have loved you through it.
I was petrified of losing you; the intensity of my emotions, the world and the endless possibilities absolutely petrified me. I buried and oppressed all my feelings and emotions inside because I was afraid of ruining the one thing I had that made me feel slightly better, our family — you and the children. I imploded at the thought of those same emotions and endless possibilities all leading you to leave me, to this.
I accept the consequences of my actions and how they have affected you, I didn’t realize then how much it affected me too. I was lonely, worried and scared. I got itchy, restless, looking for distractions to avoid looking at myself, my escalating issues, facing the things I didn’t understand and trying to fill the void when you weren’t there.
I asked myself, how can someone with four beautiful children and a stunning wife feel this way? How is this possible? I asked myself these questions over and over again but there were no answers. I held on to you so tightly then, and I still do now — because, to me, you are the answer, you are the only person in the world.
It was only ever a matter of time and what scared me the most was the thought that you’d find someone who would treat you better, who wasn’t so weighed down. I couldn’t talk to you then, and I can’t really talk to you now. I know it always comes out wrong. I seem selfish. I hurt you again and my fear of abandonment means I’m searching for a different outcome each time.
I’m still scared you’ll meet someone now who will offer you and the children everything I can’t. I so desperately want you to understand.
I promise you I wanted to be the man you knew, and I desperately wish we could put things back together. I miss you all — and us — so much.
But first I know I need, and I want to get better.
All my love,
Pexels photo via Demeter Attila