I've managed to not update at all, either here or in my paper journal. Which isn't good for my mental health, I think. Certainly cheaper than therapy.
So, generally, good news: I'm not completely screwed. I've managed to squeak myself by from complete disaster again.
In other news, it's coming up on a year since she left. I still don't know how I feel about how she did it. One day, she just didn't come home. She was just finally gone. I guess I had seen it coming, but didn't want to admit it. I wanted to believe her lies about fixing our relationship, etc, because thats what I wanted. And it didn't hit me for a while that she was gone. It took her coming back to take things for me to really get it. To get that she was leaving. It took me a lot longer to realize and understand that I'd been lied to and used for so long I'd forgotten who it was I had married, because I hadn't seen her in so long. The person who left me wasn't the person I married, because she wouldn't have cheated and left me like that. But that's the danger of loving someone with BPD, all it takes is the right person to come along and unbalance them. These days it's sad to see what she has become, a young photocopy of [redacted], she lost herself in this monster. And who knows, maybe she's happier now. And maybe I'll be happier one day.
If anything, I've learned to make friends. And to be a friend. And maybe I'll find someone else along the way, someone who actually likes me for me, and I won't have to bury so much of me to be with them. And maybe I won't. Maybe I'll continue to make more friends, and find my life in that. Or the chemistry. At this point my life is full of possibility, and I don't know where the next turn will be.
Also, I'm turning 30, and it feels weird.