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Imagine holding and loving your favorite animal, let's say a dog. You're playing with it, it loves you, you love it, and you're both happy. Your mutual happiness makes the experience feel meaningful and fulfilling.
It was a good memory to have - warm like a slept-in blanket on a cold morning. The memory of that event is over, it was a good one, until the next good memory you have with the dog.
…but now that you think about it, maybe your dog didn't seem so happy the second time? You remember it staring off into the distance a lot - away from you. It would still play with you and lick your face, give you warm playful barks, and you would still feel good, but something in the back of your mind seemed to tarnish it.
The next thing you know, the dog is out of your life.
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You've been screaming at him in bouts of anger in between your happy memories, remembering none of it, and he's finally had enough. "If only I'd have known!" you think, but you didn't just know, you acted it. While "you" are awake, the "you" that abused your beloved friend is fast asleep, and no matter how much you fight or hurt, your efforts will never disturb its slumber - you are worse than impotent, you are its puppet.
You try to move on, blame the haunter, and not yourself, and say that you will be more vigilant in not ceding control with the next dog. Yet the haunt awakens faster than you can notice, and once more you find yourself, twice foolish, twice abusive, a rare case of an engine that is 100% efficient - converting 100% of the pleasure put into it as pain exiting it, just for wanting to enjoy sharing life with something else.
You are helpless. You can't trust or cherish the joy of your memories. You can't trust your feelings. You can't trust your motivations. So long as anything conscious is near you, you cannot feel safe.
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Borderline. tl;dr version - it's basically like being Asuka from Evangelion.
It's like one of those sliding tile puzzles, one space left empty to allow for the others to be rearranged into different images. There's always something missing, even if the surface might seem well adjusted and intriguing.
It's like being the opposite of a sociopath. I feel every emotion extremely intensely. I can burst into tears and cry like a girl simply from reading the news, and my anger is unrelenting. Conversely, my happiness is also amplified a lot. People tell me I'm the funniest person they've met, that I'm interesting and that I know a lot about a lot of things. Some tell me I'm the kindest, and that I'm great at consoling and comforting. Unfortunately, anyone who comes closer is inevitably swept up in my emotions and gets hurt. The typical symptom of a Borderline sufferer is a rapid-cycling between love and hate. All these things you feel are real, which leads to a lot of cognitive dissonance, which is absolutely exhausting. It slowly saps you of your will to live, it ruins your decision making skills and leaves you rudderless and without direction.
It feels like you're bursting full of conflicting emotions, and yet you're feeling nothing all at once. You can't trust yourself or your emotions, because your convictions and opinions are so easily shaken by a simple change in mood. It takes a very strong person to overcome this stuff. Unfortunately a lot of Borderlines are emotionally immature, idealistic and naive.
It's best for people like us to keep to ourselves. We only hurt our loved ones, even if we don't mean to. >>133
This is true with Borderlines, at least. It feels like you're an alien being trapped inside a volatile lifeform you have no control over.
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Anon, I don't know if you read>>135>>136
but…I am beginning to suspect I have this Borderline thing…
My ex-best friend has dissociative identity disorder. She described it as her head being like a house, where about a dozen different people live. Those people go on with their lives, and interact with each other, producing all the noise and hubbub that people typically do day-to-day. All this while my friend was trying to go about her everyday life in the external world. And of course she also interacted with the all the others. All of that put immense stress on her brain, and she frequently suffered from headaches. Some of the others would also forcefully take the body over at times of great stress, landing her in dangerous situations once or twice. Although she seemed to mostly have a civil, if not amicable relationship with most of them. With her most trusted ones, she would share the body's control, say with her using the hands to cook, and the other one using the mouth to sing.
She told me a bit about what kind of people the others all are, and they're such a varied bunch, with entirely different takes on how to go about life, why they do so, what things they like, etc. The classic view of a DID patient who has 'splintered their personality/feelings' is wildly inaccurate, judging by her. It is a condition that has disadvantages and advantages.
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I was in love with her for about three years, but that is not the reason we're not talking anymore.
She was the one to cut off all contact about a year ago, for no apparent reason. In fact, we were enjoying some particularly balanced, quality communication at the time, from my perspective. We live very far from each other, so our communication was mostly via internet. She used to frequently go MIA for a few months, so at first I wasn't too worried, but it's been a year now and she has ignored every single one of my attempts to contact her. At one point I was incredibly worried that a suicidal headmate of hers had taken over the body and killed everyone, so I contacted a friend of hers I knew. I was told she was doing very well, was attempting to finish high school (which she'd functionally dropped out of for a couple years), had found some new friends, and that she still talked of me warmly and frequently. Her friend promised to have her talk to me, but if she tried, she failed to convince her. So I wrote her a final email, explaining that she means a lot to me, that I'll always want to hear from her and that it's now in her hands to re-establish our connection. And that was that.
I still want to talk to her, honestly, but it's turning into an unhealthy obsession, so I'm trying to get her out of my head. I'd give anything to know what is going through her mind though.
iktfb, and I'm sorry.
What helps me a little bit at times when I feel those feels is just to tell myself straight up, "Dude, she just does not care" again and again. Eventually I get a morbid sort of chuckle out of it and continue on with whatever I was doing.
Sorry to be this blunt anon, but if she cared, she would be reaching out…you would, if you were her, but she isn't extending you the same courtesy. It isn't fair.
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Thank you for your thoughtful words, fellow betrayed anon.
This would be so much easier if her friend hadn't told me she still talks about me, you know? Now there's just this nagging thought in my mind that she might still come back.
It really isn't fair. Especially when I think about how no-strings-attached I'd made it for her. Perhaps she just realised that she didn't care for me that much after all when I started talking to her about my own issues.
I think I'll start saying 'she just doesn't care' out loud to myself when I fall in the nostalgia rut, maybe it'll help.
It's kind of odd, but your six sentences seem to have helped me along more than my friends' similar advice… Thank you anon, I hope you have a good week. And that the next person who wins your heart deserves it more.
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I just happened to read the Wikipedia entry for https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schizoid_personality_disorder
and to my surprise the lengthy description matches me almost 100%. So apparently I have "schizoid personality disorder," since some shrinks got together and decided that my type of person is a disorder. I've long known I'm "different," but I didn't think it had any formal classification. Should this really be considered a disorder? There are so many kinds of people in the world and it seems you could create whatever groups you wanted out of them. Not everyone can or should conform to what is normal and it shouldn't necessarily be considered a disorder, and SPD's alleged symptoms are all over the place for better and worse. The section on psychotherapy even sounds like brainwashing, like these people just need to be returned to "normal" despite the lack of compelling justifications for doing so. I think the average person today has bigger brain problems than I do.