Epic blow job

I blew it. I also faked you out with the title of this post, but please keep reading. Not so much for your sake, but I could really use some feedback and other people’s insight on this.

I blew it. “What did you blow?”, you ask. “My relationship.”, I answer.

I’m going to try and tell this story with as little emotion as possible to try and keep it more factually based so I don’t accidentally sway you one way or the other.

Let me preface the story with a bit of background info and my own insight. A lot of this I knew, but pieces of it I realize now just after the last session I just had with my therapist, which also coincidentally happened yesterday, before the “epic blow job”. Along with this, let me also say that my boyfriend is a great man and has treated me very well since the beginning.

History: I am very very against pot. When I was a kid, my father made me smoke with him. It started with smoking and then escalated into other drugs and “behavior”. My father is my biggest trigger. Eventually I went to my mom and told her what was going on because I just couldn’t handle the secret anymore that he was making me keep. That resulted in my father leaving, my parents separating, and him literally and vocally blaming me for his failed marriage and life.

I guess to add to that, my previous ex, who treated me very badly all around, I later came to find out that while he had been in recovery and an “ex-addict”, was actually spending tons of our money on pot and was smoking behind my back. This was a big deal because A) it was behind my back and he was lying about it, B) we had very little money. There were times he would yell at me so bad and have me in tears because I “spent too much on groceries”, but he was spending it on weed behind my back. Between the two of us, we had three kids so this was really devastating and heartbreaking for me that I was so limited on money for food and no ability to ever do special things for the kids, but he was blowing the money on that.

So sort of a double whammy here with the pot thing.

Now to the current event: My boyfriend, well, ex-boyfriend, smokes. I knew this. It was hard when I found out but I really tried to just push it aside. He said he didn’t do it often, and I had no proof otherwise, but he was open and honest and it didn’t seem to be a big deal to him. A little after he told me and I told him it may be a dealbreaker, I explained to him a bit of my history with my dad so he knew why it affected me so much. He was sympathetic and we moved on.

Yesterday, I hadn’t seen him for quite some time because both of us had been so busy lately. He stopped by my job so I could give him his ticket to my dance recital (he wanted to go). As soon as I got close to him, and then when I kissed him, I could smell that smell. That, “I just smoked a bit earlier” smell. It killed me. I just said, “You’ve been smoking. I have to go.” and I walked back into work. The rest of the day I was literally physically sick. I kept having to run to the bathroom and I couldn’t function.

He ignored it, and by that I mean that he didn’t mention anything about it and acted like everything was ok. Later I told him that I really wasn’t ok and that I needed to talk but I had to focus on my dance for rehearsal so we’d talk later. He said he knew I wasn’t ok but to focus. I asked if he even cared, he said yes, but go focus, so I did.

While at my rehearsal, I was sort of ok and sent him a kiss text and he sent some back and it was happy times.

When I got home and we started to talk because he told me to go ahead and tell him what was wrong…and here is where I will just give facts.

I said: Today I could tell you smoked and to be blunt I just really fucking hated it. That wasn’t a pun.

He said: I do smoke on occasion and always have although it is much ;ess than when I was younger. I have to admit I don’t think it is wrong and it should be legal. I don’t do it often and when I do I don’t smoke much. I’m sorry it does upset you. I have to admit it is not something I am willing to change. I don’t want to lose yo over it but I think it is unfair to ask me to stop.

I replied and told him that I hadn’t asked him to stop and that I really wasn’t intending on  trying to make him change who he is.

I then felt sick and told him I had to go. Then as I laid here in bed, I kept repeating his response in my head and I got so angry. “it is not something I am willing to change”. I kept seeing those words and I couldn’t take it anymore. I kept seeing him smoking and it made me so sick inside. Then I thought, wow…I really don’t want to be with someone of which smoking means so much to them, or I mean so little. I tried to make myself just lay here and not act on my feelings…but I couldn’t do it.

I texted him back and told him what I just said above. I told him I just couldn’t do it. Us. And that I honestly didn’t believe he did give a real shit.

He replied back and said “I do care!!!!! I don’t know what else I can say. If you need me, LMK. I love you. Kiss 😦 ”

I never replied. I wanted to keep yelling and telling him how hurt he’s making me feel, but I haven’t yet.

I’m not sure if I acted BPD-impulsively, or if that was valid and realistic. I’m not sure if that’s a reason to break up, or if it is valid and reasonable. I just don’t know. I’m trying to use mindfulness. I’m trying to use wise mind and tell myself that yes, this is a big issue for me. My issue, however, isn’t so much the actual weed, but my personal history and trauma that is linked to it. All of that, also, has nothing to do with my boyfriend, and he is just being himself. Maybe this is something that I need to work through? I know many people smoke. I can not like it, but do I need to break up with someone over it, especially if its a recreational thing and not a money-blowing addiction? I don’t know.

And that’s where I am. I have no idea if these were BPD symptoms. Or if they were realistic and normal. I have no idea if my behavior was called for, or if it was just another impulsive act of mine.


Thank you. Sorry this is so long. If you’ve made it here to the end, I appreciate it.


Going to the bathroom in the woods…

So my boyfriend texted me yesterday and asked if I’d go along on his camping trip in June. This is his thing. He’s huge into it and his business is built around it. He’s pretty incredible <<insert starry-eyed dreamy smiley here>>

Ok, I’m back. So, like any supportive girlfriend would do, I said yes. I really love this guy. I’m not against camping at all, and in fact used to go when I was a kid. My favorite part was always playing in the fire. I’m not as keen anymore on the no bathroom, no shower, let’s be one with bugs thing, but again, I love him. I want to support him and I think it’s really great (and baffling) that he asked me, and that he is inviting me into something that means a lot to him. That’s sorta big, right?

So now I’m nervous. Not only will it be the two of us, but all these other people that I’ve never met but who know him are also going. So here I am, having said yes to this camping trip which to me equals the following:

-Omg, I will have to go to the bathroom out in the woods, while I’m with the man I wish to find me sexy and to still want to have sex with me later

-Omg what if it’s really hot? There’s no shower…again, I’m not sure I’m ready for him to not find me sexy anymore

-Omg what if I get attacked by an animal? (Ok, that one I kind of threw in here. It has nothing to do with him, but yea this really scares me. Apparently we’re sleeping in hammocks, which is his thing, and we won’t be together like we would be in a tent. I’m needy that way…especially given the rest of the OMG bullet points)

-Which brings me to my next thing. Omg, the hammock. How the hell am I supposed to get into this thing? Is there a trick? Maybe I should just pull the “Oh I’m not tired. I’m good”, excuse. I need to do some research.

-Omg the people. I am not good at meeting new people…and not that many all at one time. I really hate being with a lot of people. I’m so nervous. Maybe I should take alcohol. Maybe this is a bad idea.

Put it all together now and this is what we have. A camping trip with the man who will no longer find my unshowered bathrooming (I think that’s not a word but you get it) in the woods self the least bit sexy anymore, especially after I’ve flipped through my hammock a number of times and ended up sleeping in the dirt, getting attacked by animals and then wandering off in the woods with said animals because I was too weird and nervous to be around other human beings who do know how to get in their hammocks and function around others.

For the record, this post is meant to be humorous. I find it funny, but the anxiety is very real and I really feel like I need to prepare myself and really have some plans and tools ready for my mental stability on this trip.

Happy memories of reference

I had a great day and night with my boyfriend yesterday. I felt pretty down in the morning. I think it was because yesterday we were going to my mom’s for a pool party and were to meet her boyfriend for the first time. It’s been really hard for me.

So, I stopped to see my boyfriend before the party, just for a kiss hello and goodbye. I felt SO much better after just seeing him for that little bit. I was happy for the rest of the day. Then he came to sleepover last night and it was so fun. I couldn’t sleep and felt hyper and restless so I rolled on top of him and told him I was bored. He suggested playing this phone game that I like so we each played on our own phones and competed. He kept falling asleep while trying to play, haha! Then I kept bugging him and waking him up. I felt a little bad but we were full of laughs, it was so fun!!! I love laughing with him 🙂

Anyway, even this morning when he had to go, it wasn’t as bad. I had to talk myself through it a little, but I didn’t cry or panic this time. There was a slight mental and emotional disturbance, and then I went back to sleep for a little.

I hope I will be ok today. I just wanted to write about this because A) I always write about bad stuff, and B) I wanted something to look back to when I’m not feeling well.

When you just feel sad

What do you do when you just feel sad? I’ve tried listening to music, playing with the kids, taking a nap…but nothing seems to get me over this overall general feeling of pure sadness.

I feel like I’m on the verge of tears but I don’t know why. I feel like I just want to lay under a blanket all alone in silence. I feel like it’s hard to breathe because I just lack the strength to keep inhaling and the sadness puts such a weight on me, it’s hard to fill my lungs. I feel weird. I look around and see life happening all around me and I feel so far away from it. Like, why does life seem to be so much different for everyone else? Why do I seem to experience it in such a different way? Why is it so sad for me? How do people stay happy, involved, but most of all, connected? I struggle to stay connected but I feel like I have no control over it. I think I am disconnected more than I am connected.

I know there are times that I enjoy life, its just so rare. I wish I could be that version of me all the time: happy, motivated, connected, “in the moment”, fun, smiley, enjoyable. There are days that I “stop and smell the roses” and I just enjoy life. I wish those days far outweighed my bad days…but they don’t. 😦 I don’t remember when I felt like that last. That’s not to say that it was a long time ago, I just don’t remember. Just like when I feel that way, I can’t remember when I felt badly, I just know that I previously did.

Instead, I’m feeling down. I feel sad. Uncomfortable in my own skin. Unloved. Tired. Slightly suicidal…not in a raging “I want to kill myself” kind of way, but more in an depressed “Sigh, I’d like to die” kind of way.

Is it bad that I pray for God to take me?

Extreme misinterpretations…or are they?

BPD Interpretations of possibly very innocent things. I’m not sure. To me they are horrible.


Me: Severe thunderstorm watch xoxoxoxo

Him: Yep

What I hear: You are so annoying. Stop texting me. I’m trying to work. You’re ridiculous with this fear of storms shit. I don’t know why I ever fell in love with you. I’m going to leave you. I can’t handle this.


Me: Look what the garbage disposal did to my ring! <inserted a pic of my mangled up ring>

Him: I bet that made a lot of noise

What I hear: I don’t give a fuck about your stupid ring you whiny baby. Once again, stop texting me this nonsense. I’m too fucking busy for your insignificant bullshit. I clearly don’t care about what happened to your ring and why would I? It doesn’t affect me. You’re overreacting.


Him: I’m not going to text you when I leave because I really want you to try and get some sleep. Ok? Will you try and sleep?

What I hear: I don’t want to text you because I really want to be done with you once I walk out that door. You’re a god damned mess and I really need to think about how I’m going to break up with you, instead of texting you when I leave here. You’re nuts and this is too much for me. I can’t wait to leave. Don’t text me.


I think it’s only fair to state that my boyfriend has never ever ever talked to me this way in even the slightest bit. This isn’t my mind coming up with things based off of any factual history of how he’s treated me. In fact, he’s been pretty damn amazing to me. This is just a reflection of me…and my illness…and what I’m going through inside.

He’s evil! Wait no…that’s me.

So the downward spiral I said in a post yesterday that I was sure to happen…happened. My boyfriend offered to come over last night and just hold me til I fell asleep. So he did just that. By the time he got here, I was so disconnected from everything, I was just like this shell of nothingness. I was so numb but I could still feel some fueling emotions deep deep down that I so wanted to let out but I couldn’t figure out how. It just wasn’t happening. It felt somewhat better having someone there. To touch someone and feel someone touching me. It was like he was holding me in existence even though my entire being was fighting against it, but he was keeping me there. Keeping me alive.

Then came those words…”I have to go now.” That was all it took. As soon as he started walking toward the door, the panic set in and the tears started to surface. He walked back and hugged me and all he said was, “I feel so helpless right now. I have no idea how to help you.” After a few moments of my just clinging to him as if that loss of skin on skin would be the death of me, he pulled away and slowly left.

I died inside. I crashed. The emotions erupted from the inside out. I couldn’t breathe and I just remember pulling at my hair and rubbing and grabbing all over my skin as if I were trying to shake off the poison that felt was seeping out of my skin all over my entire body, or shake myself from out of the torture shell I was trapped in. He told me before he left, to try and sleep. I told him I would.

But I couldn’t. I’ve been so angry at him. I feel like he is hurting me and I’m trying so hard to think clearly, because I’m not really sure how he is hurting me. I mean, I know the things I would list if asked, but are they real? Were they intentional? Is it my BPD? Is it valid? I just love him. I just want him to love me, but everything he did and said, my brain was interpreting as proof he didn’t love me, didn’t care, and was going to leave me. I recognized the splitting. He was evil…but no. I am. I am so bad for people.

I called my friend over and over, and then I saw my therapist’s email, responding to my mindfulness questions from earlier in the day. That took me a few feet further under. My friend finally woke up and called me back. I hardly remember it all. I just know I was crying and trying to catch my breath. I couldn’t pinpoint what emotion I was feeling, or what exactly I was thinking.

I just felt so alone in the midst of all that was happening inside me. It’s like fighting a giant all on my own…




Baby me

How can someone save me from myself? I feel trapped. Like I’m screaming an SOS to the world but no one can hear me or see me. Why is this happening? I’m so angry. No…I’m hurting. That’s what I am. I don’t even know if I know why? I feel like no one cares. The smallest things…ugh I hate me. I accidentally dropped my ring in the garbage disposal and it totally destroyed it. I sent a picture to my boyfriend and all I get back is, “I bet that made a lot of noise.”

I just wanted to throw my phone against a wall. Somewhere in my head I guess I know that his response was ok? But I just hear myself screaming inside, “YOU DON’T EVEN FUCKING CARE!!!!” That’s how I feel.

Then earlier…I am terrified of storms and I’m always afraid if my loved ones aren’t with me, that something will happen to them in the storm. I’m not sure where the fear comes from. Anyway…I texted him because I saw there was a severe thunderstorm watch and I said, “Sever thunderstorm watch xoxoxoxoxox” He replies, “Yep”…and again I scream inside, “YOU DON’T EVEN FUCKING CARE!!!!!!”

I mean, he might as well just ignore the shit out of me. I am SO angry!

Do you ever feel like you just NEED someone to validate the shit out of you? I don’t fucking care how old I am. I can’t help it. I just get in these modes and I feel like a little kid or something. It’s like a small child being lost and telling a grown-up that they’re lost and the grown-up saying, “You’ll be fine, kid.” I feel like no one really hears me. 😦 😦 😦 😦 😦

I want to scream, and cry, and throw things, and just go crazy until someone notices me and realizes that I’m hurting inside and to stop treating me like an annoying little gnat. I feel constantly swatted away. I wish I could runaway. I wish I had no ties to stay where I was. If I had to do life over again, I’d make sure that I’d have nothing keeping me anywhere. That was my entire plan growing up because no one ever cared and all I wanted to do was go on with life on my own and never get attached ever again to anyone. I didn’t want to meet anyone, or know anyone, or for anyone to know me.

I just don’t want to live. I should have made that decision a long time ago.



Mindfulness and…stuff

So I’m sitting here feeling like I need to write. I’m not sure how to say what I want to say, because I can’t quite seem to pinpoint what it even is that I want to say.

I’ve been mulling over this mindfulness stuff. I’ve only had one appointment but this is what I’m to be working on. It’s hard. My mind is often racing and trying to be mindful is like sifting yourself through a ball pit while trying to keep your eye on one specific ball. Yea..you probably just imagined that and thought, “Wft is that even possible?” I guess it would help if all of the balls were white and you had to watch the one red ball. But nope. This is a multi-colored ball pit.

Anyway. I keep going back and forth between being excited that I’m finally doing DBT, to being afraid that it won’t work, and to being flat out doubtful that anything could actually help me. I keep hearing the words, “This is something you will be dealing with the rest of your life”, echoing in my head amidst the colored ball pit of thoughts and it’s just discouraging.

On a more positive note…oh who am I kidding. I mean, I’m not all negative about this. I know it will be hard. I know its not a cure, but I know it can help and if I put the effort in, it will pay me back with a bit more happiness for myself and my loved ones so they have just a tad bit less uncontrolled crazy, and bit more controlled crazy, to deal with for the rest of their lives.

Loved ones. Sigh. I sort of feel like I’m going to have another down-spiral directed at my boyfriend soon. I despise that I can see the symptoms nearing me and I can feel the emotions creeping in from different angles, and yet I can’t seem to stop them. I think that’s my biggest struggle with DBT. In working on this mindfulness aspect, I guess I had this idea that it would soften the intensity of my emotions and thoughts if I could just manage to practice mindfulness. Wrong. At least I think I’m wrong. I can sometimes control my thoughts enough to not go completely postal, but it doesn’t ease the emotions. It’s instead like I go through a period of time where I am forcing thoughts that contradict the emotions, but I live in that state of contradiction until the emotions decide they’re going to leave. Basically, the only thing I’m really managing to do is to not hurt myself, hurt others, or break the shit out of anything until it passes. I don’t necessarily feel any better inside.

Ok I think this went more negative than I planned on. Sorry. I’m not as blah as I sound here. I’m just reflecting.