Pushing people away and sabotaging potential friendships and romantic relationships 

Although I’ve been unable to break the cycle as far as pushing people away and sabotaging potential connections go, I’m aware that I do it.  I do it because I find it so hard to trust and to let people in. CI’ve also done it to remove myself as a burden to that person.  It is a common trait associated with BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder), which I have been diagnosed with in the past.  


There are a few people I’ve pushed away over the last few years that I truly regret pushing away.  The most recent was a transgender woman named Paige.  I also now regret pushing Holly and Stephanie away.  They had no malicious intent towards me, they were just out of their depth as far as helping me was concerned.  There are even people online who I regret pushing away or being rude to because I took something they said the wrong way.

I actually hope that some of the people I’ve pushed away get to read this.  While they may not forgive me, I hope they’ll understand why. But there are some that I would give my right leg to have another chance with.

I suggest watching the video on this page if you push people away or simply want to understand why some people engage in such behavior:

Pushing People Away, Yet Wanting Closeness | Abandonment & Being Hurt

While I can relate to the “why” part, I feel like fixing it is possibly beyond me, as it requires building of confidence and self-esteem.  I’ve never had either confidence or positive self-esteem.  But it is an issue I plan on raising with my therapist next time, if I remember that is.

Unable to love or be loved

I feel more anxious / keyed up than usual and it’s not a pleasant feeling.  It’s a nervous energy; it makes me restless and unable to relax.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to love again, even if someone was really interested in me.  I’m so terrified at the thought of letting someone in and giving them access to my already damaged heart.   I don’t want to go through the anguish of getting attached to someone, then getting hurt.   Since I broke up with S, I’ve dated people that I honestly didn’t care much for beyond friendship.  That way, I didn’t get as badly hurt when it all went sour.  With the exception of S, I’ve never found anyone with whom the romantic attraction was mutual, rather than one-sided.  Perhaps that was for the best, because the people I’ve been attracted to were either taken or they’d have hurt me.  Perhaps S  was my only true love and I’ll never experience that again in this existence.  As grim of a reality as that is, S is more than worthy of being someone’s only true love.  

I feel like I have nothing to offer anyone personality-wise and I’m not even nice to look at. As I hate mysslf for many reasons, it would be logical to assume that people aren’t attracted to me for many of the same reasons.   Even if I were capable of loving (or simply liking) mysslf, it would not make my flaws disappear, nor would it change the way that people perceive me.  So why should I lie to mysslf?

I don’t know why I spend so much time thinking about love and relationships, when both are out of reach.  Anyone remotely interested in me would have to break through the impenetrable layer of ice that my mind created to shield my heart from any further damage.  If anyone gets too close, I’ll just push them away and sabotage the connection through self-hate.

It’s a lost cause.  I’m in for a very lonely future, while being forced to see others experience these things that are out of reach for me.  


Hurting

I couldn’t face dealing with people today, so I emailed my care manager to say that I wouldn’t be able to go to the community meeting for the treatment housing.  I hope it wasn’t mandatory, but I just couldn’t have dealt with going to a part of town that I’m not familiar with or having to be in close proximity to people I’ve never met.  I feel too ugly to go anywhere and I keep getting hit by waves of sadness that are enough to bring me to tears.  I really don’t care anymore anyway.   Nothing is going to change the way I feel about existing and I’m too broken to fix.

I was reminded of why I’m scared and reluctant to leave my motel room earlier. I went down to the lobby to use the communal microwave to heat up my ‘slop’ meal.  While I was waiting, a guest was shooting at the desk clerk, complaining about the same problems that I write about: the smell of weed, noise, prostitution.  He was being extremely rude and I thought he was going to completely snap.  While I was stood at the microwave with my back to all of the chaos, I managed to record some of it:

I dashed back to my room and bolted the door.  There were shady men loitering around, which added to my anxiety.  I’m most likely going to be holed up in my room for days.

I feel awful.  Aside from feeling like a nervous wreck, I now wish that I hadn’t gone on that date.  I thought it went well, but now he wants nothing to do with me and has probably unmatched me on Tinder.  I just wish people wouldn’t do these things to me – whether it’s fake friends, saviors or people who date me out of pity.  I know I’m ugly, emotionally unstable, boring and unintelligent.  But when people dupe me into thinking they’re interested, it fucking hurts, because it validates every insecurity that I have.

Please don’t tell me to love myself, because how the fuck can I?  Don’t tell me that this is just my BPD either, because I am more astute than you think.  And don’t reach out to me if you pity me or just want to try to fix me. 

I clearly have no future worth sticking around for and I’m not willing to carry on existing this way.  I’m sick of being ugly and I’m sick of being alone.   Don’t tell me that I’m loved or that I’m not alone.  Don’t tell me that it will get better and don’t tell me to love mysslf.  

Reflecting on the monster that I’ve become

I’ve been told that the move in date for the treatment housing should be around the end of this month.   I met with the lady that will be my care coordinator and “go to” person.  We discussed my needs, my strengths and weaknesses and my triggers.  I have to go again tomorrow for a community meeting, which is being held at a location downtown.  I’m already very nervous.

Therapy was a combination of me venting and discussing the future (work, school and having a ‘normal’ life).   I told him about meeting T (the guy from Tinder) and how it didn’t go badly and how I overcame a major obstacle, after taking a massive risk by meeting him.  The general consensus is that actual ‘therapy’ can start once I’m in a stable living situation.  Right now, I’m in pure survival mode.
Speaking of T, he messaged me earlier to say he was spending the day with his son. I’m still trying to just distance myself, so as not to appear clingy or too keen. I’m talking to another guy I might meet for coffee, only he’s old enough to be my dad. But the way I see it is that if people are sincere and they respect me, I’d be willing to at least meet up. I’m tired of being locked inside my head anyway.

My depression comes and goes, though even when it eases somewhat, I am still incapable of positive thinking or raising of hopes. My mental health has taken a huge battering from almost 4 months of social isolation and multiple scares at the motel. It’s changed me, but not in a good way. I’ve never been so socially inept and incapable of doing things on my own. I don’t know how long it will take to repair the damage, if it even can be repaired. It’s almost like I’m going to have to start from scratch, in terms of my social skills and coping skills.

What a total mess I’ve become.  My BPD has shifted up several gears.  I’ve never felt disconnected from the human race.    The way I overreact amd push people away is upsetting to me, even if some of them deserved it. I have no filter anymore.  I don’t like the total bitch I’ve become; this is not who I am. Trauma, social isolation and 5 1/2 years of chaos and uncertainty have changed me for the worse.   So much ‘bad blood’….

If my writing triggers you, upsets you or gives you the wrong impression of me…

It’s bad enough having mental health and situational issues and going through situational hell, without having people attacking me for it, or making me feel guilty.   If my blog triggers you or upsets you, don’t read it and don’t follow me.  No one is forcing you to read what I write.   I put “*TRIGGER WARNING*” at the very beginning of any blog entry that I feel could be potentially triggering.

This blog is a place of uncensored and unfiltered honesty.  It is a dark place right now only because my life is a dark place right now.   When something good (or even great) happens to me, I will write about it.  I am neither a positive person or a negative person -‘I am real and I am honest.  I am tired of being pigeonholed.   

I have gone through 5 1/2 years of hell, which includes social isolation, marginalization, the loss of my soulmate, sexual assault, abandonment, homelessness, destitution, abuse, a suicide attempt and loss of independence and functionality.  Do not judge me or make me out to be some sort of lunatic basket case, especially if your shit isn’t in order either.  I don’t come here seeking pity, but it would be nice to find understanding rather than condemnation.  

For anyone who gives a damn enough to want to know, I am in therapy and I take my (many) pills like a good girl.  Even my therapist understands that my current situation (living alone in an unsafe place and socially isolated) is highly detrimental to my mental health and makes actual ‘therapy: impossible right now, at least until I’m in stable housing.  I am not a danger to anyone else – the only person I’d ever be a danger to is myself. 

Please refrain from judging me or making me out to be some sort of basket case.  Until you’ve walked in my shoes you have no right to judge.  And please don’t pretend that you care or that you wants to help, unless you’re sincere.   I don’t want friends or boyfriends to solve my problems, nor do I seek that.   I see good people as distractions and an opportunity to escape my head and get to know someone else.   It seems to be other people that feel the need to be saviors, who end up turning on me when they realize I don’t need to he saved by anyone.

I know that I’m an ugly, worthless piece of shit and that I’m emotionally scarred.   I know that I don’t deserve to have anyone in my life and that I deserve to get hurt and treated poorly.  You don’t need to remind me, but that doesn’t stop some people from doing so..  I know that I probably won’t get better, because the last few months especially have allowed me to clearly see that I don’t belong in this world and as a result, I’ll never be happy or find peace and solace.

So please just unfollow my bog or stop reading it, if what I write bothers you, triggers you or gives you the wrong impression about me as a struggling human being with no other outlet for her pain.  I neither want nor ask for anyone’s pity (pitying me actually hurts me).  Thank you for understanding.

Longing for human company, but it’s out of reach

I hate the fact that I’ve become such a monster.  I assume people are out to hurt me and I can’t trust anyone’s intentions.

If I’ve hurt you and your intentions were genuine, I’m sorry.  Unfortunately I can’t read people and I’m wounded and the prolonged isolation and loneliness has ruined me.  I don’t mean to hurt anyone or to lash out, but I’m so afraid of getting hurt that I feel like I have to strike the first blow.  I get triggered because so many things trigger me these days.

I just want to die, that’s all.  I’m already dead to the world and dead inside anyway.  I can’t exist this way anymore, abandoned and left to die slowly in a budget motel room, where I have been since the end of October.  I long for human company, but it’s so far out of reach.  I need more than online friends, but I can’t even reach out to them, because it’s just words on a screen.

I’ve made *the* decision because there’s nothing left but pain.  So again, if I’ve hurt you and your intentions were genuine, I’m truly sorry (and only you will know what your intentions were towards me).

Almost as ugly on the inside as I am on the outside

I hate how ugly I am on the outside and always have, even during early childhood.  But I can honestly say that I’ve never hated who I’ve become as much as I do now. I am almost as ugly on the inside as I am on the outside. It’s as if the outer ugliness has been eating away at my soul for years, like a cancer.

I’ve never been so sensitive and easily triggered.  Not only am I easily triggered, but I have far less control over my reactions to triggers as I used to.  I take what people say in the worst possible way and i react ultra-defensively and sometimes even launch an attack.

Connecting with other people has always been difficult for me; now it’s as good as impossible.  I sabotage connections and push people away.  Because I don’t matter to anyone, people usually don’t take much ‘pushing’.

I despise the monster that I’ve become.  I’m still not being true to myself, because the real me is someone calm, rational and understanding I sabotaged 2 new online connections because I was triggered.  Instead of taking the time to read and comprehend, I react with an emotional outburst.

Then I wonder why I’m totally alone in the world.  I can blame my appearance for much of it, but now my personality sucks too.

I need to cry, then cry some more and take my sleeping pills early. I don’t want to be conscious.