Loneliness

The Beginning of the End

I remember the moment my marriage truly ended—not the legal paperwork, not the final fight, but the quiet realization that the person I loved was walking away for good. It wasn’t a dramatic explosion, though there had been plenty of those. It wasn’t a single betrayal, though trust had eroded over time. It was the slow unraveling, the moments of intensity followed by unbearable distance, the cycle I knew too well but couldn’t seem to escape.

Loving with BPD is like living in a storm. One minute, the skies are clear, and everything feels perfect—like I’ve found my person, my home. The next, a shift in tone, a delayed text, or a perceived slight sends me spiraling into panic, convinced I’m about to be abandoned. I loved hard, but I also feared hard. And that fear became the third presence in my marriage, whispering doubts, fueling arguments, making me question if I was ever truly loved at all.

In the end, the love we had wasn’t enough to withstand the storm. And when it was over, I was left not just with heartbreak, but with questions—about myself, about my patterns, about how to love in a way that doesn’t destroy me or the people around me.

A Partner Who Tried—Until He Didn’t

At first, he tried to help. He saw my pain, my panic, my desperate need for reassurance, and he did his best to be my anchor. He held me when I cried, reassured me when I spiraled, and told me over and over that he wasn’t going anywhere. I wanted to believe him. I really did. But BPD has a way of making love feel like sand slipping through my fingers—I clutch too hard, or I let go too soon, terrified it was never mine to hold in the first place.

Over time, his patience wore thin. The understanding he once offered turned into frustration, then resentment, then something worse—anger. He started to lash out, to say things I couldn’t forget, to meet my emotional chaos with his own. I wasn’t the only one hurting anymore. We were both drowning. And the worst part? He didn’t even know why. He didn’t understand BPD, didn’t see the patterns beneath the pain. To him, I was just too much—too emotional, too unpredictable, too needy. And to me, he became something I both clung to and feared.

In the end, it wasn’t one fight that broke us. It was all the small misunderstandings that piled up until neither of us could see a way forward.

The Weight of the Wrong Choice

After the divorce, I was left with a different kind of pain—the kind that doesn’t just come from losing someone, but from realizing they were never the person I needed them to be. I had chosen someone I thought would stay, someone I believed could handle my highs and lows. And for a while, he tried. But in the end, he didn’t understand me, and maybe he never really wanted to.

The hardest part wasn’t just the heartbreak—it was the disappointment. The realization that I had built so much of my identity around a relationship that was never truly safe for me. I kept wondering: Did I choose wrong? Did I ignore the signs? Or was I simply too much for anyone to love the way I needed?

Divorce wasn’t just the loss of a marriage; it was the loss of the future I had envisioned. I had to rebuild, not just my life, but my belief in myself. And that was the hardest part of all.

Healing and Moving Forward

But in the wreckage of that marriage, I started to see things more clearly—not just about him, but about myself. I had spent so much time trying to hold on to someone who wasn’t truly holding me back. I had ignored my own needs, my own worth, in the hope that love alone would be enough to keep us together.

Healing didn’t happen overnight. There were days when the loneliness felt unbearable, when I doubted whether I would ever be truly understood by anyone. But slowly, I started to shift my focus. Instead of waiting for someone else to prove they wouldn’t leave, I began learning how to stay with myself. Instead of blaming myself for being “too much,” I started to understand that I deserved the kind of love that didn’t make me feel like a burden.

Final Thoughts

If there’s one thing I’ve taken from this experience, it’s that love isn’t just about finding someone who stays—it’s about finding someone who sees you, truly sees you, and chooses to understand rather than judge. And more than that, it’s about learning to see yourself that way first.

For anyone reading this who has felt like they were “too much” or “not enough” in love—please know that you are neither. You are worthy of understanding, of patience, of love that doesn’t feel like a constant battle. And most importantly, you are worthy of your own love first.
#BorderlinePersonalityDisorderBPD
#Selflove

This is a vulnerable one and shows the inner depths of my heart yet somehow I feel I just may not be alone. I think this maybe a dynamic for others too who crave this certain connection they can't seem to get. It is not you and I am sorry. You are seen and you deserve to honour yourself and that child within. Self love and compassion is the best way forward. You deserve to be loved for being you.

www.a-place-to-be-seen.com/the-blog/2320609_the-picture-in-my-head

#PTSD
#Loneliness
#MentalHealth

I tried calling my mom and she was very annoyed with having to talk to me so I said I would talk to her later and hung up.

I ate pauleys last GF raspberry fig bar. I was curious about eating it while drinking the peanut butter flavored coffee so I tried it and holy hell it was amazing!

I feel very lonely.