I had a friend with BPD

I would like to share my story about what has happened recently. I am puzzled. Any opinion or advice is welcome. This will be long and personal, so please skip my post if you don't feel like reading through.

I know a person who was diagnosed with BPD about a month ago during their hospitalisation at a psychiatric hospital. I met them when we were ten years old at a Minecraft camp. We shared a room for a week there. Five years later we met again as classmates in high school (coinciding?).

Before we became high schoolers, both of us struggled with anorexia nervosa and questioning our sexual orientation, meaning falling in love with someone for whom “you shouldn't have such feelings”. They were hospitalised for 6 months at children's intensive care and psych ward because of anorexia before they transferred to our class.

Three years later after becoming classmates, we started to hang around together. I fell in love and it was beautiful and bewitching. We spent hundreds of hours together. I have known the feeling doesn't flow both ways. I was quite eased with disclosing my crush to them, but my feelings went far beyond an ordinary “crush”, which seems to be the case for me every time I fall in love. I adore the person, not their mask, not their polished presentation in front of people, on social media. I love them for their flaws and the smallest things. Grins, hand movements, way of walking, for the turmoil and mayhem in their mind.

I could see they were so troubled and hateful of themselves. There were so many red signs. I wanted to be a friend. I knew I won't become anything more. We became quite close friends. They shared with me their insecurities and for the first time ever, a person was willing to be with me this much. Yet it hurt very bad. Especially if they mentioned their ex (unluckily their ex was our classmate from English group). After 5 months I wrote them “I love you” just to confirm basically it's all worthless.

A month later, I tried my best sincerely to help as they were abusing pills, self-harming, not in a safe place. I was strained and afraid. I prayed for their well-being. I am someone who has been also hospitalised at children's psych, and I was simply too weak to handle this. I sent them contacts for help, but they did not want help. They didn't even go to a psychiatrist for months as they should. Ditched them without their parents knowing.

Few days during this intense worrysome time, I on an impulse swallowed 20 pills. If I haven't messaged them, I would be dead by now. I had 28 more pills but they called emergency, ambulance brought me to the intensive care where I was given antidote and warm care.

I spent two weeks at a psych ward.

They eventually kept abusing their old psychiatric pills and after a few days when I was in the hospital, they ended up calling a hotline. They were in a psychiatric hospital for two weeks and met someone. I know they slept with someone and lost virginity, most likely to someone from the hospital.

I think they act and achieve things, befriend people without realising what they're looking for. They don't care. It's either max or zero. Out of borderlines. They are utterly angry. It's stupid to abandon someone with BPD, especially if I'm someone with mental health issue and institution history. Their personality and approach simply was so hindering to see. The peak point was when I had a vivid dream where they and someone from the hospital kissed and... These visions accompany me often.

I couldn't bear the ridicule. The pain. The uneasiness. The fake face, fake voice and denying nature of them. Yet I have loved them and wanted to help them. I truly wish the best to them. But this can't go on. Estrangement is said to be a bad solution. I would choose estrangement over something not genuine. I can't stare into nothingness no more. I feel grudge, anger, hopelessness and atrocity about how the hell could I fall in love with someone like them. They were broken, drowning, unwilling to seek any good, which in my opinion has to be found inside oneself. True happiness doesn't come from the material nor superficial.

So I acted on impulsive intuition again (as I do most of the time yay). I cut off from them. And I felt eternally glad. I know they have people, they are a popular kid and have a bunch of close friends. Something I never got to know.

I cut off. Because of jealousy? Love? Too much trouble? Self-defence? Duty? I don't regret cutting of. I feel disgusted at their being, yet I am grateful for what common experiences we had, even for the suicide attempts.

I wish them the best.

Let's heal.

And goodbye
or rather
farewell.