Living with a girl named Borderline Personality Disorder: A Short Tale of My Relationship

You don't believe in me, never have. And, you always leave.

Before I ever met you, I made a commitment in my heart and to God, about being honest and faithful and living with integrity. I carved out space for myself to be able to accept what The Lord was about to put in front of me. I envisioned what I wanted, put my goals into focus, then you came along and other things started to fall right into place. There were lots of red flags, mind you, but it was just some dates. There were no big commitments to make, so I went with it. 

Our first year was awesome. You were loud and rude and aggressive, but those things I overlooked. Yes you had two kids from two different men, with odd entanglements and you were only 33 at the time. Still, okay, not ideal but, again, it was just hanging out, no big commitments. Then the world shut down. You were on me like a hound. Never wanting to let me spend time alone or a part. Showing up outside of my place, unannounced at times. Okay, you were kind of clingy, but also kind of sweet, again, nothing to lose sleep about. We did everything together and did everything well. We got in fights and you would storm out, leaving my house. I always let you leave, telling you I don't go to bed angry and I'm not going to be with someone that is willing to. Okay, you started to make peace with me. You continued to leave, but you always came back. 

Then there were the big fuck-ups:

(1) One night you didn't take me home when I wanted. You keep driving, to who knows where. You said outright, "No, I'm not taking you home." I asked you to stop the car, but you kept refusing. I felt scared, I kind of panicked and I jumped out of the car, you didn't even slow down. I was terrified and thankful that I didn't bash my skull on the road. 

(2) You blocked my door once and tried to keep me from getting into my house. I wasn't trying to even argue or fight, I was just wanting to go home. You didn't leave me alone. You stood in front of the door, taking a solid stance to block me. I had to literally shove you away, then I went in and locked the door.

(3) After being drunk and walking out after dinner, you literally just jumped on me, pushing me then enticed a group of 20-somethings to fight me and gang up on me, screaming that I attacked you. I had to run blocks to get them to stop chasing me. You followed along, yelling and encouraging that angry mob to get me. You didn't even remember it because you blacked out. I had to walk all the way home (over 5 miles), then I had to wake up early in the morning to go to work. 

(4) You went home and partied with the guys that jumped me outside of a bar. They literally cut my face open and I was there bleeding on the sidewalk with no one to help me. Eventually some people ordered me to take an Uber to the hospital to get stitched up. I was left alone the entire time. 

(5) The first night into our new home together, with my kids here, you agonized that you were so anxious about packing up the rest of the stuff at the Fuquay house and you asked if it was okay to leave. I totally understood, but what did you do, you went out to Avaitor brewery and got fucked up and trashed with a group of guys holding their bachelor party. You didn’t pack a thing. 

(6) You have left me, twice, in anger, not wanting to make peace, but instead to go to another's guys apartment to drink, do ketamine and get fucked up all night. 

(7) On a Christman Eve, while my kids were with me, and I worked so hard to provide my first real Christmas for them, knowing how special I consider the time with them, you came over, lit, drunk as a skunk. You shouldn't even have driven. You were loud, made fun and mocked both of my kids that night. You looked silly-wasted and there was no way, in good consciousness, I could let you drive, so I took away your keys and you threw a fit all night. It was absurd. You stayed at my place, I had to babysit you, which took time away from my kids. 

(8) One time, at a lil party we were having with our good friends at your house, you started smoking weed. That, in itself, wasn't the problem. We had several talks about how I wasn't comfortable with your smoking. Not because I'm against weed, but because I didn't like how aggressive and rude you got when you started getting high. We agreed, you made a change and everything was going great between us…until that night. You said it, "Fuck it, I'll do whatever I want. You don't control me."I didn't even complain, that was a clear decision that you didn't care about me so I Ubered back to my place in Raleigh from Fuquay-Varina at 2:30am.

(9) On our 2 year anniversary, we were having an incredible evening, you got mad about something, started to ignore me, then you stayed and drank and chatted with other men at the bar. I waited outside for you for a long time, but eventually made the decision that you just don't care. You ended up calling me drunk, afraid and completely unaware of where you were.

(10) One night, leaving Wilco, after having a fine evening you got mad about something, the reason never came up. You wouldn't get in the car with me. You walked home. I trailed in the car for a little bit. Knowing that you were about a mile, a mile and a half away from home, literally straight down the street, I sped ahead and allowed you space to walk home. What happened? You never came home that night. You, in your anger, decided to sit on the sidewalk, downtown Raleigh, in your cute "going out" outfit and passed out on the sidewalk, purse and everything just out in the open. Nothing happened, thankfully, but that kind of choice has a short shelf-life with wicked consequences.

(11) Remember the time we went out with Gabby and Alyssa, your coworkers? What happened? You left us at the bar, didn't tell anyone, just left, never wanting to come back. We spent the rest of the night calling you and running into everyplace we could think of. You got wasted, got mad, and stormed out drunk and alone late at night downtown Raleigh. Not a safe choice, Vanessa

(12) Or what about the time you jumped out of the bathroom, naked, totally 100% nude at 3:30am on Bragg St? I ran all over, as much as I could, looking for you. You never picked up your phone. I had to call the cops because I thought you went missing. You were crazy drunk, like sideways drunk and naked. It was a whole scene of ranting, of accusing, of police reports and whatever other shit we had to deal with. 

(13) What about the time you broke into my home, kicked out a window, scratched me above my eye making me bleed? Another drunken night, I tried to kick you out of my home, but you thought I was assaulting you. So you locked yourself in the bathroom. You wouldn't come out until I opened the door and walked away. You called the cops, but they arrested you for assault and breaking and entering. That was late 2020, today is July 6, 2022 and you're still dealing with it. 

(14) What about this past weekend, Pride Weekend, you went out while I was in teacher training for a yoga studio. Not a big deal, but when you start drinking by yourself, it always becomes a big deal. I showed up, you were "3 sheets to the wind." There was another guy there, who clearly liked you. You thought he was gay, he clearly indicated that we has not. You kept sneaking off with him to the bar to drink and grind.. I saw you all over him, he was all over you. I was about to leave, thinking it was clearly done. Then after some time, you came out upset, because he tried to kiss you. You were like, "It's hard being a girl. I just came out to have a good time and he tried to hit on me." Vanessa, you were grinding your ass into his penis. You held and rubbed your body against his face. You were mesmerized, staring at him. You never looked at me, not once. You completely ignored me. It's only hard to understand that you don't understand, being as sleazy as you were being and how easy you made it look for him to have you, that, yeah, of course, he tried to get with you. DUH, Dumbass! . You completely ignored me the entire time, but silly me, I knew that you were stupid wasted so I stayed only to make sure you were safe and look after you because you weren't able to look after yourself. You even walked away in a drunken stupor, eventually Homeless Brandon pulled you in, walking you back to me because he knew you needed looking after and were out of place. 

(15) What about that time, while I didn't have my license, you drove me and my kids back to Virginia? Do you remember showing up, drunk and rolling your ass off, from a late night on Molly? You could barely keep your eyes open. I felt afraid and after several times you veered off the road asleep, I insisted I drive the rest of the way. Even then, you argued with me, in front of my kids. I insisted that I drive the rest of the way. Thankfully I didn't get stopped, because I would have had my license suspended or revoked.

You have done so much. Said so many hurtful things. Have kicked me out of the house countless times. (16) Remember leaving me on the side of the highway to make it home by myself in the heat of the day. (17) Remember the text messages and voicemails threatening to throw away all of my things while I was at work? Remember all the times you told me, "I don't care about you?"

Do you remember telling me that you had been separated for years and "how single" you were when we met? Turns out, that was a lie. You had just had sex with the guy that molested your daughter a month and half before we met. I later learned that you two had a "hey, you up" kind of relationship ever since he was literally convicted of molesting your daughter and even confessed it to you. That probably went on for about 2-3 years. Even then, you continued to have an inappropriate amount of texting and relationship time with him all in the name of "it's for Jace." You guys were texting every day, all day long. 

Early on, do you remember giving me advice about how to spend time with my daughter? What made this moment stick out was that you and her had talked about how she felt I pawned her off to a friend's house and that made it seem like I didn't want to spend time with her when she came to visit. You never told me she ever said that and felt that way. You knew full well how much I sacrificed and fought to spend every second I could to be with them. Even so, you chose to hold that little conversation to yourself, you took her time from her, allowing her to be away, while you made plans for us to be together, then proceeded to lecture me on "I need to spend time with her???" I let you know right then, how lied to and disrespected I felt.

You keep accusing me, like I made you move away from your address in Fuquay-Varina, I never made you move. You wanted to. You were fresh just coming off the trauma of what Phil did to you, your daughter and your family. Years later you still kept the same bed it happened in, a bed that we shared. You didn’t put any effort into making a change to that, buuuut you went ahead and bought yourself boobs, paid for a slight upgrade and renovation for your downstairs living room.  You kept sleeping in the same bed where it all went down? It's mind boggling to me, that you put money towards yourself and not towards making statements to let your kids know that you care about them and that they are safe. What about Skylar saying how much she didn’t want to live with you as long as I was around? You told me many times, I don't care what Skylar does. "It's only two years, she’ll be done and gone anyway,” That’s exactly what you communicated. I fought for our new place saying, I believe that a home is a place everyone should feel comfortable in. It's a place where people need a sense of rejuvenation and space. We moved in together with the sole purpose to raise a family together. 

The house is empty.

It has been more empty than full. 

You literally never even showed up to a court hearing for custody of your son. You didn't care, were completely checked out, never talked to me about any of the process until you came home and said, "I just signed everything over to Phil." I was like, "What???" You continue to say things like "I will always love my kids more than you." Okay, awesome. You should. I was never competing for that. You just gave him up, because you care about yourself more.

For the longest time, I just left. Never arguing, never yelling, because I believed that this was your choice, not mine. I knew I had to stop the bleeding when you left one night and you said, "I'm going out to drink and fuck whoever I want." 

Vanessa, you're thrown about by every whim and desire. You lean into and suffocate whatever person will lend you their ear. You have no respect for boundaries. You torment me to no end. There is no person I have been more open and honest to. No person I have bared more and shared everything with, no person I have been more transparent with, no person I have tried to show more commitment to. I have always been 100% honest with you, from the get-go. Still, you don't trust me. You hold all of these insecurities, but still you’re the one who has literally, and multiple times, gone out with other guys to get fucked up. What if one of them drugs you, what if you're not in a place to help yourself? 

All of the people we have met, don't hang out with us any more. We have made so many friends along our way, but you eventually cross some major boundaries and inappropriate lines and we end up fighting about it. You suffocate everybody with your neediness. 

I used to sleep peacefully. Vanessa, do you remember that you would make fun of how still and coffin-like I slept when I first started dating? Now you get angry and mock me at how messy and chaotic I make the sheets. I can’t even sleep through the night without a nightmare that I tell you about. And that nightmare always involves you making my life a nightmare, isn’t that right?

Do you remember how many times you tried to get me thrown in jail and arrested? What if, just once, they believed the bullshit you were spewing? What if??? No one else knows how you get when you turn a corner. You’re so good at hiding it, but your eyes look different, your voice drops an octave, the way you talk and reason changes. The moment I notice it, it’s much too late. What kind of terror will ensue the rest of the night. 

How about the last time? Do you remember how angry and unreasonably upset you got about how I asked a question? I was trying to be sensitive around a sensitive issue and you lost your fucking mind. I was trying to calm you down, reassure you how much I cared about you and you just kept on interrupting me every single time I tried to say anything. Then you started yelling, and you know my policy on yelling, it's totally unnecessary and if you want to make this a yelling conversation then okay, you're choice, let's go. But then you shut down even more because I was yelling, but you yelled and cussed at me several times before that. After much arguing, I left to give you some space, but as I was heading out I got a text from you where you thought I stole or hid the champagne we just bought from the store. I didn't take it, I understood why you thought that, because it wasn't in the house. Apparently, as it turned out, we forgot it at the store. Perhaps the good Lord knew something that we didn't and kept it from making it to the house. So, I had a drink, came back home to get the receipt to go back to the store. But, you were already drinking champagne. I was like, WHAT? Where did you get that? And why didn't you say something. You Instacarted a bottle. At that, I was crazy anxious because I know that only bad things are to come when you've been drinking alone and are feeling angry. We continued to argue, I was getting upset because you keep bringing your anger into this house and into our lives and you just keep drinking. I am so sick of the fighting and the chaos. So I slapped the wine glass out of your hand (it was a plastic glass, no worries) and walked over to dump out the rest of the bottle. That move made you lose your shit. I took your phone away because I was worried about my safety of what kind of texts, rants, social media defecation and/or phone calls I would have to suffer from. But you weren't too bothered at that, what threw you over the edge and made you lash out at me was the dumping of champagne. As I grabbed the bottle and walked over to the sink to pour it out, you jumped on my back wrapped both arms around my neck, squeezing my Adam's apple with your forearms, your legs wrapped tightly around me, every fiber in your body was felt squeezing in hopes to choke me out, not wanting to see if I could peel you off me, I frantically thought about what you would do if you did, in fact, choke me out, so I dropped my head to the floor and, in turn, you got body slammed to the ground too and my neck was free.

So, we argued some more. At some point, you continued to repeat how much you hate me.

“Omfg” I'm thinking. Here's another situation where you're going to get me fired. You got me fired once already after you went on drunk and mad text rants talkin’ about how sick you are of me and that you're going to throw everything I have in a dumpster. You kept on saying “I DON'T GIVE A FUCK and IT'S YOUR PROBLEM, NOT MINE.” This had been going on for a day or two and it amped up so much and to the point where I actually took you seriously, so I moved out at the end of day. I got fired the next morning for not showing up to work. So here we are, I just got a job that requires a car or mode of transportation. The moment you see a way to hamstring me, you do.  So I got the car keys, fully believing In my heart that you were going to leave me high and dry, and I walked out to the car thinking that you wanted to steal it first. 

Random texts from our relationship

Apparently I was on the right track because you left out the opposite door to race around and take it. I jumped in the driver seat, you jumped in the back seat. You were screaming and yelling and you would not calm down. 

So we go for a drive, probably around for an hour or so. I just wanted to be safe and ensure that I can go to work in the morning. You kept saying in the car how much you just wanted to go home and go to bed early. You wanted your phone back, but I said, I didn't trust you. I told you how badly I felt about it, because I don't want to ever take your things, but I was scared for my life and well-being that night and what kind trouble would happen. I said, I don't know what kind of trouble you'll cause, because I don't trust you. So I was about to leave you be, then as I'm about to walk out of the house, I went looking for my hoodie in the laundry basket. Guess what I found there? Not my hoodie, but a second bottle of champagne that you ordered and wrapped in the unfolded towels to hide. You sensed that I found it, because you jumped off the couch coming my direction. "Give it to me," you demanded. Of course I wasn't going to hand it over. Finding that bottle was exactly what I was afraid of in the first place. You weren't wanting to have a chill night and go to bed early, you wanted to get fucked up on champagne in hopes it'll settle anger's craving. You said to me, "That's what you were scared about, huh? You'll see how it's going to be now, now that you're taking that bottle. Give it back now!" One, that was

Vanessa, when we used to argue I wouldn't say anything and I would let you leave when you left. You kept coming back and you would “make peace.” We always made amends. 

Then you left, you started not coming back home, but instead would leave to get fucked up, do drugs with randos, sometimes you made it back, sometimes you called, but either way you always blacked out. 

Then you would leave and go to our places, our regular hang out and chill spots. That's when it started being a real threat to me.  You would talk so much shit and spread so much hate about me, while you were mad and angry, to my friends and/or our friends. You stopped coming home. One time you passed out on the sidewalk on Person St, but other times you would go home with the bartender (who was married and someone we knew, but still) You wouldn't call, you wouldn't text. You drank and went out, started spending so much time and talking to random men, making it seem like you were available at our spots. 

Overall, the point I'm trying to make is that you are and have made it a practice threatening my safety and well-being. 

You don't just get mad. You get mad, get fucked up, pull others and anyone else around into our stuff, lying and accusing me of everything. You have tried several times to get me arrested and thrown in jail.  All of those moments have been around 1. It's late 2. You're drunk 3. You get unreasonably vengeful. And this goes on for days, sometimes weeks. This is what happens now when I let you leave. Now, letting you leave, causes me nothing but incredible anxiety because all the trust is worn through. I have no idea what kind of unnecessary chaos is to come, because you refuse to show a little bit of consideration, a little bit of self control and a little bit of self awareness. 

But I live through it (this and more) because I have to. I lost everything, every single thing. Then I lost my kids and time with them, but you knew all this. I never hid any of that from you. You loved how honest and real I was with you, remember? Now you accuse me of being a loser and taking advantage of you. I work my ass off. I have never stopped looking for opportunities or jobs, never. I'm always putting one foot in front of the other and making my way. I have always looked for ways to give, support you and show you tokens of love. I always rejuvenate, always forgive and I'm always willing to talk it out and make peace.

Do you remember our time having dinner at Garland, after going through a short, short period of trying to be sober, you looked at me and said, all I want to do is drink? You got mad at me for whatever reason, you look disgusted by always having to choose non-alcoholic drinks and mocktails. You clearly and adamantly cried your desire to drink. Do you remember the look on my face? I couldn't imagine those words coming out of your mouth. You stated how much you hated being sober and talked about how much all you wanted to do was drink. After all the problems it has caused, and it was, in fact, your choice to go sober, but you yelled at me like I made you do it. You found some excuse to make yourself feel like I wasn’t being supportive enough, which wasn’t at all true. I have been nothing but supportive, in fact, you used to comment at how supportive I was. You warp and make a weird warp of reality to justify your anger’s thirst. It’s unbelievable. 

Do you remember months later, getting mad at me saying and going on about, "I don't even want to drink. I just want to stay home every night and be chill." Do you remember all this? Because shortly after you said this, the very next weekend, you went out and bought more wine, and in fact, you went on for days going out drinking by yourself. I can't make this shit up, none of it. I wouldn't want to, why would I? 

Why do I put up with this? I don’t know. I love you, that’s the truth. I love you with my whole heart, and for some reason the Lord put us in each other’s journey and story. For some reason, the Lord helped carve out a space in my heart for you months before I ever met you. For some reason, we keep coming back to center. For some reason, you keep shining, so brightly, at times, and I see the girl who I fell in love with. Because I know the real you, the real you is amazing. The real you draws people in and breaks down their barriers. The real you is kind, gentle and sweet. The anger isn’t you. It’s just your hurt masking itself. That’s not the real you, because I know how much you hate that person, but, Vanessa, if you hated it so much, why don’t you do something about it? You keep doing the same thing and expect different results. That’s pure foolishness, you already know that though. You talk about how much you love people, your kids and even me, at times, but you don’t love any of us to change. You don’t seem to love any of us to out us first and yourself last, to consider our safety before your own, to consider our feelings before yours. Vanessa, you’re a good person with a great heart but you continue to hide behind the guise of the “but it’s hard for me” mindset. This is the only place in your life where you give yourself an excuse.

I put up with it, because not doing so, will result in you getting angry, because you’re very needy, and if your needs are meant you’ll terrorize, threaten and harass. I have felt for a long time, like I’m living and negotiating with a terrorists everyday. I have to do this thing, in order to have a basic life free from insult and abuse. 

You don’t care about me. You yell over and over and over again how much you don’t care about me, like you want to drill it into my head. I never get mad at that. That’s your choice. I never want to argue and yell for someone to care about me, that’s not how love should work. I deal with it. 

Now we have soooooo many triggers. I’ve gone through this shit before, that’s why I work so hard through things the way I do, because they are anger management tools, but you don’t trust me. You always assume the worst. You always think that I am manipulating. You always just assume I don’t care about you, that it’s my way or no way at all. Your way is holding shit in, going to bed angry, waking up angry, spouting mean comments all day, drinking alone, not communicating your needs or wants and making threats. I can honestly say that I have jumped through every hoop and loop, at least once or twice, you have asked me to, all in the name of meeting you where you are and giving you what you need to. It never works. You continue to change the rules. You’re constantly making different demands. All I ask is this:

1. Don’t go to bed angry.

2. If you need space, go, just say what you need.

3. Even if you’re not ready to make peace at that moment, just say we’ll come back to it.

4. Come back to it.

That’s it. This is the only thing I have asked for this entire relationship from the get-go. This is the only expectation I have had. Seriously, this is the only fucking thing I want out of a partner, everything is bonus and awesome. It was clearly and passionately communicated before we were even a thing. Having an angry-free home is my top priority. This is the only thing that you will not even try to do. 

You go to bed angry, all the time, like ALL THE TIME. No exaggeration. We sleep in separate beds more often lately. You do not communicate you want space, you just leave, and go drinking or drugs or both. You don’t communicate that you’ll come back. You just never, not even saying a word. 

And you just want me to assume you’ll come back??? I used to, but then you started going out with other men and getting blacked out, fucked up with other dudes, spewing “Mike hate” to anyone within ears reach. Like, what????!!!!. Come on, V. Let’s keep it real. 

 

There is so much hurt. You won’t trust anything I do, then you blame me for not trying anything at all or not meeting you where you want me to, but you never say anything. You admit you’re difficult, but you never give me grace. You don’t have a “shake it off” mode,” you go right to destructive and reckless anger. You don’t say, “I’m sorry.” You say, “Fuck off! I hate you! I don’t care! I’m so done with you! I can’t be with you! Get out of my house! I’m getting a restraining order! I don’t fucking care about you! I hate you!” And, somehow you later end up saying how upset you were that I didn’t hold space for that, that I should have heard that you just want a little space?  I mean, that’s a little extreme, V. 

You have manipulated every bit of truth to justify your anger, to somehow justify your feelings, but it’s just not true. I know the truth, I know the true story. I know every bit of the truth. I realize, as I write this, that you might think you can refute any thing I have written here, but I know in my heart and before all of heaven that nothing you can say is valid.

We are living and tasting the fruits of all your bullshit and reckless decision-making. It’s bitter and lonely tasting. Tastes like shit, pure fucking hateful shit. You have done all of this, I have not one regret in saying that. You have made a terrible mess of things. 

Anger is stealing and ruining everything for you, but somehow you continue to believe its voice. Again, you don’t change because changing requires you to let go and think of other people more than yourself. I’ve never seen a more, on-the-surface, well-to-do-person, choose to be more fucking reckless than you. You have every advantage at your back and you just piss it all away. 

It's insane. Fucking insane. 

I'm watching someone bleeding all over the sidewalk, standing there. Screaming out to anyone who will hear for help, but when they stop to hear what's wrong, you spill your blood all over them, you don't tell them anything that is real, then you stab that person for stopping to help you. That person, of course, then cries out and gets mad, but you don't look surprised. Instead you get mad at that person and accuse them of hurting you. It's odd. It's insane. It's crazy. Then then person leaves, another comes, then the same thing happens. 

Hurting people just hurting other people. 

it's fucking insane. 

Yes I'm upset and maybe this all sounds angry and full of malice. It's not meant to be. I'm sad and hurt more than anything. I hate how broken our home and dreams have become. This is just a love story, that is filled with a lot of emotion and brokenness. It's so bad.