"We need to secure your permanent residency through the spousal route if youโre going to stay here," my husband-then-boyfriend said one night as we lay in bed, replete from our dosa delivery.
"If they didn't kill me, they at least stunted my growth. There's no clear distinction between reality and my inner world; my thoughts and emotions manifest externally. I was never allowed to develop boundaries or individuate from my parents." / "This is why I lack a core identity."
Parts of this text belong to the most lucid descriptions of borderline syndrome. I'm not saying this in order to be able to label you (I think diagnoses should at most be treated as disposables-they reduce the dynamic to the static and stop you from thinking) but to pinpoint the mechanisms that you describe that resonate so much with me.
I have experienced it up close, in a long and intense relationship. Her parents were distant, too. Both surgeons. She didn't receive much affection from them, nor space to develop her identity in any way (except off course career-oriented).
"These boundaries mean nothing because I am in flux"
When I met her, I finally found somebody to talk to, to think with. I was utterly thrilled by her flux. It allowed her to not cling to ideas - to think freely in her groundlessness. To think ruthlessly Nietzschean one day, and smash him to pieces with a hammer a week later. I learned so much from her. Yet at the same time she held on to me as if it meant her life. From the moment I showed her affection, she wrapped me with her heart.
"My dissociation fuels my craving for stability around men, as objects and regulators of my self-worthโthe axis of self. The rituals and rules ground me." / "Those without families often latch onto those who do, like lampreys"
Being with her was painfully intense, especially in the beginning. I started to notice that she escalated our fights, sabotaged our relationship, sometimes also broke up with me, because of fear of abandonment. Something you make happen is less scary than something that might happen.
"Imagining or anticipating abandonment feels as real as if it had already happened. Whether it truly occurred is irrelevant because my internal experience feels just as real." / "we often sabotage ourselves, attempting to preemptively avoid the rejection we've come to expect."
What do you do, when life is an open wound that keeps bleeding, and you cannot identify with the wound, only with the stream that happens to flow from it? When a touch of soft care to this wound gives such a relief that it comes with immediate grief of anticipated loss? Do you strive for stability, or cherish the gift of unveiled sensation, perception, thought that much of the numbed masses will never have?
I just want it to stop. My mind torments me everyday. One minute Iโm over the moon, but the next minute I just know Iโll let everyone down. One minute I feel sheer ecstasy, and the next minute my ribs are being pried open, and my heart is torn out and pulverized. It doesnโt even have to be in a romantic context. It just hurts the most in a romantic context. It could be at work when I fuck up somehow in my scatterbrained state. It could be at the grocery store after running over an old ladyโs toes by accident.
My mood lability and fear of abandonment has impacted my ability to hold down jobs, get anyone to take me seriously, meet deadlines (ex. this book), and Lord knows what else Iโve messed up on.
I want to feel numb. I want to be โfunctionalโโ I want to be lovable.
I donโt want to be exhilarating. I donโt want to be unstable. I donโt want to be easily swayed by love bombing. Itโs awful. I wouldnโt wish it on my worst enemy.
Do you think thereโs a way towards being more solid, having some kind of emotional inertia, being more grounded?
Or is an easy way out is less likely than what you are doing now, which is already transformative?
My ex is still kind of uprooted. (Sheโs 32 years old, we were together for 7 years, until 3 years ago.) She is still swayed by the affection of a guy who really pays attention to her. Now she has been heartbroken for a couple or months about her 2nd lover since me (although he never wanted an exclusive relationship). She has been writing beautifully about it.. first in the form of a letter to him, but now that kind of escalated to a longer text.
What did become more stable is her sense of direction in her professional life. Sheโs an artist and found the concept/idea she wants to focus on (stickiness) - sheโs been pursuing that for some years now.
Sometimes I wish I had romanticised her less, didnโt put her on a pedestal and insisted she (or we) would get professional help. What happened instead is we both became numbed by the relationship. At some point I didnโt even know what I felt anymore.
Incredible transportive work. The way you inhabit your Self is remarkable! Rather like a "home invasion" at times, stringing us (and you!) along for the ride. There's an agressive defiance and boldness, sure, in these beautiful sashimi-like assemblages. But what is striking, what's cutting! and what lands on our clean wooden block is not just the dream of the sushi chef, but the chef's exacting pursuit of the dream. Living Art sliced right to the edge. Thrillingly.
"If they didn't kill me, they at least stunted my growth. There's no clear distinction between reality and my inner world; my thoughts and emotions manifest externally. I was never allowed to develop boundaries or individuate from my parents." / "This is why I lack a core identity."
Parts of this text belong to the most lucid descriptions of borderline syndrome. I'm not saying this in order to be able to label you (I think diagnoses should at most be treated as disposables-they reduce the dynamic to the static and stop you from thinking) but to pinpoint the mechanisms that you describe that resonate so much with me.
I have experienced it up close, in a long and intense relationship. Her parents were distant, too. Both surgeons. She didn't receive much affection from them, nor space to develop her identity in any way (except off course career-oriented).
"These boundaries mean nothing because I am in flux"
When I met her, I finally found somebody to talk to, to think with. I was utterly thrilled by her flux. It allowed her to not cling to ideas - to think freely in her groundlessness. To think ruthlessly Nietzschean one day, and smash him to pieces with a hammer a week later. I learned so much from her. Yet at the same time she held on to me as if it meant her life. From the moment I showed her affection, she wrapped me with her heart.
"My dissociation fuels my craving for stability around men, as objects and regulators of my self-worthโthe axis of self. The rituals and rules ground me." / "Those without families often latch onto those who do, like lampreys"
Being with her was painfully intense, especially in the beginning. I started to notice that she escalated our fights, sabotaged our relationship, sometimes also broke up with me, because of fear of abandonment. Something you make happen is less scary than something that might happen.
"Imagining or anticipating abandonment feels as real as if it had already happened. Whether it truly occurred is irrelevant because my internal experience feels just as real." / "we often sabotage ourselves, attempting to preemptively avoid the rejection we've come to expect."
What do you do, when life is an open wound that keeps bleeding, and you cannot identify with the wound, only with the stream that happens to flow from it? When a touch of soft care to this wound gives such a relief that it comes with immediate grief of anticipated loss? Do you strive for stability, or cherish the gift of unveiled sensation, perception, thought that much of the numbed masses will never have?
I just want it to stop. My mind torments me everyday. One minute Iโm over the moon, but the next minute I just know Iโll let everyone down. One minute I feel sheer ecstasy, and the next minute my ribs are being pried open, and my heart is torn out and pulverized. It doesnโt even have to be in a romantic context. It just hurts the most in a romantic context. It could be at work when I fuck up somehow in my scatterbrained state. It could be at the grocery store after running over an old ladyโs toes by accident.
My mood lability and fear of abandonment has impacted my ability to hold down jobs, get anyone to take me seriously, meet deadlines (ex. this book), and Lord knows what else Iโve messed up on.
I want to feel numb. I want to be โfunctionalโโ I want to be lovable.
I donโt want to be exhilarating. I donโt want to be unstable. I donโt want to be easily swayed by love bombing. Itโs awful. I wouldnโt wish it on my worst enemy.
How is your ex by the way? Do you ever want her back? What do you wish happened?
I understand. Sounds awful on many levels.
Do you think thereโs a way towards being more solid, having some kind of emotional inertia, being more grounded?
Or is an easy way out is less likely than what you are doing now, which is already transformative?
My ex is still kind of uprooted. (Sheโs 32 years old, we were together for 7 years, until 3 years ago.) She is still swayed by the affection of a guy who really pays attention to her. Now she has been heartbroken for a couple or months about her 2nd lover since me (although he never wanted an exclusive relationship). She has been writing beautifully about it.. first in the form of a letter to him, but now that kind of escalated to a longer text.
What did become more stable is her sense of direction in her professional life. Sheโs an artist and found the concept/idea she wants to focus on (stickiness) - sheโs been pursuing that for some years now.
Sometimes I wish I had romanticised her less, didnโt put her on a pedestal and insisted she (or we) would get professional help. What happened instead is we both became numbed by the relationship. At some point I didnโt even know what I felt anymore.
https://open.spotify.com/intl-es/track/41ExyRHV6Yib5ZsqIroFMn?si=dafd41c915764dd1 the song
Incredible transportive work. The way you inhabit your Self is remarkable! Rather like a "home invasion" at times, stringing us (and you!) along for the ride. There's an agressive defiance and boldness, sure, in these beautiful sashimi-like assemblages. But what is striking, what's cutting! and what lands on our clean wooden block is not just the dream of the sushi chef, but the chef's exacting pursuit of the dream. Living Art sliced right to the edge. Thrillingly.
solipsistic
Well, yes. This is an entirely self-indulgent exercise. The fact that it took you this long to catch on really speaks volumes about you, doesn't it?