BPD: She came back

So after three years, I  finally got to see her, face to face. I couldn't resist the opportunity to see what I had been so upset over, for so long. The after math, had become bigger than her, and lasted more than twice as long as the relationship, itself.
  I was worried all those emotions would pour out, but also wanted them to, at the same time. I think, I wanted her to see, the tormenting pain she put me through. It didn't happen. We went to lunch and talked as if nothing had happened, and it was as comfortable, as if nothing had happened. She told me she was planning to leave (AKA)Jimmy, the abusive, old, fat, finally employed, guy she was living with, but couldn't move back to LA.  Later, we briefly hung out, in her hotel room, and hugged, and said goodbye.
  Two weeks later, she posted on FB something about " With out, (AKA) Jerry, she has no reason to be here", and  swallowed a whole bottle of Xanax, and tried to kill herself. She had to be revived several times, and spent a few days in the hospital. They diagnosed her with PTSD, and recommended therapy. I am glad, she is getting help, but all I can wonder is, who the fuck is Jerry?

So, there it is... It is what it is... I'm not going to rant about my selfish feelings, when I know she is really sick, and can't help it, and, I am not, and can...but if I was. It would sound like this...

Are you fucking kidding me! You broke my heart, to bounce from weirdo's to losers, and kill yourself? That, is what I suffered for? They're not even good looking, or have money either. At least, I'm an extra handsome bastard, who made you laugh, and committed to you. Bitch, do you have any idea of how many irresistible invitations, I resisted, for you? You just threw it away, for nothing. You were special, to me. You were the one worth sacrificing for.

BPD: Hoover, She's coming back

It has been three years, and one week, since I was burned by the person, I love most. I'd be lying to say, I haven't thought about her everyday since. This is the girl, that gave birth to this blog, that we are talking about.

After the first year of hell, where I was shut out completely, we had a once a month, or two, communication. She is with some guy, and not happy with him. Lately we share a brief text, with more frequency. Today, she unloaded on me, with an apology that made me cry. She is admitting she went crazy, and made big mistakes, she wants to correct. She is telling me she is coming home soon, and how much she loves me, misses me, and is so sorry. She even mentioned she wants a do over, and she doesn't want to be sick, anymore. She seems to have found Jesus, too. As much as I have prayed, dreamed, and hoped to hear those words, they have been my greatest fear for a while now. What's scarier, is, I believe, she believes it. She friended me, on Facebook, after being blocked, this whole time.

Why is it my greatest fear? Because I love this fucked up girl, more than anything, and know, I have no ability to resist, that which, I want most, even though, it will fucking kill me. How could I take her back? All the people that consoled me, cared about me, and nursed me back to health, would flip the fuck out. I would be walking on egg shells, waiting for it to happen again. Knowing, odds are, it will. Is a few months of pure happiness, and great sex, worth that? I feel like Frodo, holding the ring, over the lava, of Mount Doom. My precious. "Just throw it in, you little Hobbit bastard"!

BPD TRAINWRECK: My best friend Logan

Logan has been my best friend, since the fourth grade. He is one of the most decent, reliable, trustworthy, intelligent, considerate and normal people, I know. The guy is brilliant really, and consumes books, like most people watch TV. He is often my personal information center, for questions about history, and computers. In my opinion, he is a better person than, I am. More responsible, and never fucked anyone over in his whole life. He has almost an innocent quality about him. The perfect mark, for a BPD succubus from hell.

A decade ago, when I moved to L.A., Logan's family coincidentally moved to Vegas. He started a new life there, and was happy to leave the scumbag losers of our home town behind. His new life took off, as he took work at a college, and was promoted quickly, due to his organized, disciplined ways. It wasn't long after, he was assigned student volunteers, when he met a toxic bitch, straight from the abyss. Lets call her, Evilynn.

Evilynn, began flirting with Logan, and teasing him with her sexual fantasies. She began sexting him, with the wild things things she wanted to do, with him. If you knew Logan, and the shy, and lonely type of nice guy he is, you'd know, the excitement, and attention of this was irresistible to him. It got him high, and feeling great, and addicted to that feeling. Unfortunately, this mind screwing whore, began making dates, promises, and invitations that, she backed out of at the last minute, only to reassure him, and do it again. He spent thousand planning the greatest dates ever, only to be stood up. He would get shit faced waiting by himself, and fell into depression.

Eventually, he meet another BPD girl at the bar, that took him home and screwed his brains out. She was psycho, but fullfilled every sexual fantasy he was promised, by Evilynn. Having never really even kissed or even touched Evilynn, she faded away, and he stopped giving her attention.

A few month passed of no contact, and Evilynn found out about the relationship, and decided to accuse Logan of sexual harrassment, showing the school photos, he sent her, of his book collection, proving a personal relationship. When he explained they never had a relationship, and showed her sexual texts, it didn't matter. He was fired, and soon, lost his apartment, and had to move back in with his parents. The trauma and loss from this humiliating, and financially devestating blow, still has not corrected itself years later. He is not the same, psychologically, and struggles with stress, and severe depression. It couldn't happen to a nicer guy.

How many red flags should a person tolerate

I just ended a 5 month relationship, I should have ended two months ago. Having had several people, whom I've befriended, reveal themselves as bonifide psycho or worse, I hesitate to believe the law of averages has brought me, yet another. They can't all be crazy? Can they? This is Hollywood, after all. The pool of narcissism is over flowing, here. Just this week, I met a fat, old, druggie, slob, who raved about his days in Europe, as a famous photographer of super models,  while blaming capitalism and Nancy Reagan's "Just say no" mantra, for his lack of success. He gave me a business card and tried to sell me headshots.  Any way...

ALICE, is a hopeful actress and musician in her late twenties. She is funny, with a sexy body and very, very cute face. Skin like a baby. The problem is, cute is unacceptable, to the point of lementing needed plastic surgery. Daddy issues emerged to be the source of this obvious low self esteem.

 I did not recall the first time we met, she did. A year earlier she must have been the victim of one my depressing conversations about my ex's psycho condition. I was a wreck, I have no memory of it. She had a psycho ex too and seemed to understand. We agreed to take things slow.

The thing about red flags is, you dismiss them as normal until you realize, there are red flags all over the place. Its tricky. Compared to the ex, Alice's seemed very healthy. However the flags started piling up. Temper tantrums appeared over the dumbest topics, in which she was proven wrong everytime. She began attacking me for being friends with women, who I've known for decades, and even  Facebook gaming friends, I've never spoke to. None are even in this state. Another flag I over looked was, her reaction to a youtube video, I was watching about narcissistic women. She had big a problem with it. When one such argument led to her calling me broken and, throwing my ex in my face, I should have walked. She apologized but before long, did it again with a screaming fit of paranoid accusations.

For many years I've said, if a person accuses you of cheating, and you are not, then they are cheating on you. I learned that the hard way.  Although I have no proof of cheating, she did maintain a relationship with an ex, who lives in her building. He watches her dog and they watched the Superbowl together drinking alcohol. When I tried to explain the insane hypocrisy of  her busting my balls, over a text  from an ancient ex, 3000 miles away, she accused me of being just like her jealous psycho ex, and accused me of taking out my ex's problems on her. It was blantant projection.

Finally, the other day, I passed out after work and called her late. She sucked me into her, not pretty enough, crap. Stupidly, I told her to be thankful because, she could be, the very ugly girl, I saw on set that day, placed next to a ridiculosly beautiful girl. Alice went into asshole mode and accused me of hating women. I couldn't help it, I called her a dumb cunt. Its just true, I can't deny it anymore. She then accused me of being disrespectful and is now giving me the silent treatment. It's not working.

I don't know, if that quailfies her as psycho or not. Psychology needs to get rid of all the labels and make a simple, degree of crazy chart. Maybe even a dating handbook inspired by Richard Simmons, Deal a meal. If you can move 3 of the 20 most common red flags, over to the Psycho side, then you're done dating for the day. Yay.

BPD: The boy next door

Living in Los Angeles, and working in the film industry, one is never far from a mentally or emotionally disturbed person. This edition will focus on a 26 year old boy from Virginia with big dreams of being a star. Since he has always reminded me of a goofy looking Marc Paul Glossier, I will refer to him as Zack.
   I met this nice kids about 3 years ago on set, when he approached me saying, he lived around the corner from me, and wanted to know, if there where any available apartments in my building. I told him no, but took his number, and said, I'd call him when one opened up. Months later I did, and he moved in next door. Zack seemed totally normal. A hopeful actor with a friendly smile. He loved movies and trained boxing. It wasn't long before I noticed, the slightest criticism, or comment he disagrees with, evokes an odd look in his eye. A tough guy stare. I wanted to slap it right off his face, but maturity got the best of me, and I began avoiding this little punk.
   Unfortunately, Zac lives next door and would drop by to borrow my DVDs and try to impress me with his frequent road rage stories. We also discussed mental disorder, as I was studying it, at the time, to understand the ex. He revealed that his mom, had similar issues. Moving on, Zac asked me to drive him to the airport. During the trip, I commented on a radio news story, and Zac blew a gasket. He began screaming in a rage that, I was fucking him up mentally before his flight. I wanted to push him out on the side of the road, but maturity got the best of me. It rattled my nerves for days. He returned and acted like nothing had happened. At this point, I more then suspected he was some kind of narcissistic toxic person. I walked on egg shells to avoid, what I deemed, an inevitable confrontation.
    One day, Zac woke me up at 9 am with a problem. Once again, his mother had shut his phone off the family plan. He needed to borrow my phone, again. When he woke me up at 10 to return it, he was freaking out, saying his mother was evil. I said, she was just sick, and he exploded in an atomic temper tantrum. He began screaming " I will destroy you! I am going to be more successful then you! I am so much smarter then you! It was quite a fit, to which I responded, "ooooooooooooh". While wiggling my fingers. "Go ahead". Of course he did nothing but demand a DVD he lent me months earlier. While I was looking for it, he was screaming, demanding it, then he attacked my front door and flat screen TV. I called the police, who made him apologise and talked me out of pressing charges.
   The grand finally came a month later.  I checked outside, his car was gone, the coast was clear. Oh shit! He is sitting outside at 8 am, drunk. I duck back in but, too late. He begins telling me, if I ever need him to watch my dogs, he'll be there for me. LMAO! I decide to fake an errand and leave for hours. I come back and he's gone. Soon after a friend of his shows up with a baseball bat looking for him. Zac robbed his marijuana. I talk the guy out of getting himself in trouble and he leaves. Moments later Zac shows up, shirtless and desperate. He's freaking out about a little girl trapped in a car. I don't believe him but, I tell him to call the cops. His phone is broken suddenly, so I give him mine. He calls 911 and rambles the incoherent story, hangs up, hopeless. He goes inside and the cops call back. I give them the info, and they say, they were just there last night...
  So What happened while I was sleeping that night??? Zac got a DUI and his car impounded. He came home and tried to force himself into a new female tenants apartment. She called the cops, who then, talked her into letting it slide, as a drunk mistake. In the morning, Zac left her a perverted apology written on four paper towels, then robbed his friends weed, and then with my help, called the cops on himself. They took him away in cuffs as, the female tenant, weed guy and Zac's girlfriend all show up. We all read the child like, pervert note together. It was loaded with transparent nuttery but most disturbing was his excuse for the attempted break in. He blamed it on his girlfriend leaving early, and that he couldn't cum with her. He followed it up by mentioning she had a cute kitty, and if she wanted to date he would love it.  I saved it, and gave it to the cops later that night. He was held for evaluation, for three days. He has been out a week now, hiding in his apartment. No sign of his car yet. Just a BMX bike parked by his door. I have to admit, it was very satisfying. I know, it's wrong to take pleasure in such things but, Ahhhhh haaaa.

Moral of the story: No revenge is necessary. They will destroy themselves. Guaranteed.
  

BPD EX HOOVERs

So it happened. I got the Christmas call and the follow up New Years talk. It was as if nothing had happened. Then she mentioned, she was dying of cancer. She said, she'd call the next day but it was weeks before the next call came. She gave me what I thought she would never. A full admission of guilt and error. A bawling, sobbing, crying apology and a desire to come back to me. She really beat herself up. Confessed she didn't know how to attach and doesn't know what the truth is. We talked for hours over the next several days as she opened up about the abuse in her youth. Her feelings of worthlessness. Wow. I was really proud of her courage and thankful for her trust in me. Then after an abrupt claim of sickness, in mid conversation she was gone again. Silent.

I spent these days bouncing between fantasies of us reuniting and trying to see through the problem to whats really going on. I can only speculate but the fact is, whats happening is a combination of feelings and fantasy. I didn't believe the claim of cancer. I pray to God she's lying and God knows I would support her in any way I could if it is true. She sounds so convincing though. However, she has been so, on other horrible fantasies. Maybe, its so convincing because she believes it. After all she admitted. She doesn't know the truth.

Here's my best guess or possible explaination. She is caught between two halves of one personality. One that knows the truth and the other that believes the lies.

The LIE personality is born from the abuse. It believes the lie that she is unworthy of love. The lie, the abusers told and programmed her to believe with their abuse. It's the side of her that harbors all the pain and finds ways to numb it with denial and fantasy. It's where the emotion of the trauma is buried and bleeds out in paranoia and anxiety. It's the where the subconcious words of the abuser still whisper from before she can remember. It's still the scared child feeling at fault for her neglect.

The TRUTH personality is the real her. An amazing, smart, fun, giving, sympathetic, beautiful woman. Who just wants to be loved and seeks to free herself from the lie. She knows she's all of these things. That's the truth.

I think its very possible she is making up the cancer story so she could find a comfortable place of sympathy to apologise for what she did, without fearing my imagined wrath of "I told you so". At least I hope it's that. I do not have her condition and I am starting to understand why the people who say ultra compassion is the appropriate way to help. Its hard when you are hurting yourself. I have mostly followed their advice anyway but being in my own pain at the time, it did not help me to get better. It prolonged my pain.

I  feel a lot better now. The pain has passed, but the desire to love another hasn't come yet. I can handle talking to her and understand her pain, without feeling my own now. As much as I may wish to be with her forever. The risk of taking her back is terrifying. I am not going through this hell again. I can love her this way and protect myself.

As for the hoover. I think the true personality surfaces for what ever reason triggers it to reach out to someone who she knows was good to her. To make amends or hold on to someone else's view of her, confirming her desire of self worth. Yours is a stronger counter voice to the abusers, then she can muster for herself. Its like she's employing you as a defense attorney, to battle the abusers prosecution, in the trial in her mind. This blog helped quickly to release the pent up emotions in me. I will suggest that she writes one next time we speak. As her attorney, I believe this case should be thrown out of court.

BPD relationship horror story..... Episode three The Return of Medusa

For all you who are wondering if you will ever see your BPD ex again. In my experience it's only a matter of time.

 I remember the end of my relationship with Medusa. She had disappeared smoking crack and finally called me, to tell me, she lent her car to a guy to cop some more crack and he never came back. Instead of hanging up, I enlisted my poor friend to drive me to her. We picked her up at the white trash house and went searching for her car in a very rough neighborhood for hours. My friend hated her guts and still does to this day.

We finally found the car and my friend went home. As I was driving her home, I criticized her for lending her car to a skelly crack head and she punched me in the throat. Nearly causing an accident. I took a bus home.
The next day she called and apologized. She was exhausted from partying and like many times before wanted me to come sit with her.

I took the bus and when I got there she asked me to apply coca butter to her body. I did this many times before. As night time approached she was feeling better and then suddenly decided to inform me she was going out on a date with some other guy. I wanted to leave but she made me stay in her room until the guy picked her up. I watched from her window as my girlfriend drove away in some older guys luxury car. I was in shock. She showed no emotion and belittled me for my lack of money and maturity. After she left I walked home. She never called again and neither did I. I was screwed up for a while after that, but knew she was going to make that guys life a living hell. A year later via a small world, that guys cousin, who was friends with my friend (coincidentally a childhood female friend who is the next BPD girl I will talk about) found out that Medusa had gotten into a brawl with that guy and she busted her breast implant. The guys whole family hated her.

Three years after our relationship was over and I had totally forgotten about the entire thing, she made her return. I woke up at 6 am to a knock on my window. I looked outside and saw this hot chick I did not recognize. I said. "who are you"? She said. "its me Medusa". She had grown her hair long and lost some weight. So I let her in for a bit then went to my friends house. We were alone in the kitchen and she began to confess how horrible she was to me. I had buried it so deep that when I realized what she was saying, the muscles in my face began contorting before I realized what was going on. The emotion hit me and I ran into the bathroom before my friend came back into the room. We went to rent a motel room and had crazy sex with ice cubes. I thought she had changed but then she dropped the old, " when your my age you will understand" line. I was her age now and did understand. She was a loser. She wanted to get back together but knew my family knew about her and didn't push it. I said I'd call but there was no way I was going to put myself through that hell again. I contacted her on Face book recently. She's 44 now and still single. She just broke up with someone. Nothing has changed except her looks are gone.

What led to her BPD? My guess is being adopted by a cold horrible crow of a mother who tortured her father. That bitch was a nasty, gold digging, ugly woman who should have been slapped in her yenta mouth every time she opened it. A total miserable C#@!  That poor husband was too weak to protect his daughter or himself.