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Abuse

A few minutes ago I saw a video of a hot model just strutting his stuff (Travis DesLaurier if you’re curious).

Somehow, I went from thinking he was pretty darn hot to getting excited about finding a man in my future who will only have eyes for me and smile when he sees me, the way DesLaurier does in the videos (unf).

I don’t know why that got me so excited. It was a strange feeling. And in part I felt excited because this man that I envisioned was new and unknown to me.

He wasn’t the Russian. I think that’s why I liked it so much. The Russian hasn’t earned a second chance, so whenever I envision myself with him at our current human “relationship” status I feel trapped. But this other dream dude that hopefully exists…he doesn’t make me feel trapped. He makes me feel free. He’s handsome (or at least he is to me), he isn’t afraid of opening up to me, he’s his crazy self, and he loves me and thinks the sun shines out of my ass even when I just woke up and have bad breath.

He could be the Russian (if he earns his second chance), but I currently think that’s highly unlikely. This dream dude is unlike anyone I’ve ever dated. He’s fascinatingly new. Mindblowing.

This is all pretty far away from where I was this morning. I was angry…because I had a dream with the Ex in it. And I was enjoying my time with him. Ugh. I’m sure I’m not the only abuse survivor who’s had these unpleasant dreams.

The worst part was I was happy. And that’s horrible because it messes with my head and what I know to be reality. It makes me think: Did I make it all up? Am I a liar? Am I a lying hypocrite instead of the victim/survivor I’ve been playing out all this time?

It makes me feel disgusting, in summary. It makes me ask the eternal question abuse survivors face: did I actually enjoy being abused?

So, I’m glad I had that ephemeral gust of happiness a few minutes ago. This dream dude doesn’t make me feel disgusting. He knows all about my past and he defends me to no end. Actually, this dream dude makes me forget the dark spots in my past. He makes me feel mine again.

Will it happen? I certainly hope so.

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I gave him one day.

The Ex doesn’t deserve a single second of my life. But two days ago he somehow managed to creep into the forefront of my mind. That’s ok, because yesterday and today were better days, especially today.

I was gonna discuss this at length in my post, but decided against it. I want to write about it and at the same time I don’t because I don’t want to inadvertently trigger myself. It’s unnecessary. So instead, I’ll just say this: Fuck you Ex. Fuck you. And your whole life/existence. You are a teenage girl abuser. You like little girls. That’s how disgusting you are. So fuck the fuck away. My mind isn’t your space anymore.

Listening to this right now. Always makes me feel good. Enjoy.

 

 

It’s incredible how butt-fucking ugly I feel today.

“I woke up like this.” Indeed.

I feel so ugly I don’t even want to go out. I keep looking at myself in the mirror…the acne that doesn’t seem to go the fuck away, the spots from past zits, the scars, the dark circles from not sleeping very well, the unsightly hairs that my genes gave me…

My face just keeps getting worse. I’d never been prey to stress-induced acne, but since I started figuring out my Rank Order List it’s kind of been a problem. Plus, anxiety has me picking at my face almost daily, which is obviously the #1 contributor to having all these spots and zits.

Why does feeling ugly get me down so fast? Because it takes me back to the worst times in my life: my pre-teen to teenage years.

Plus, it doesn’t help I’ve said no to going out with my mom two days in a row. She suggested we go shopping. I said no. Today she said she was going to the movies and asked if I wanted to go. Again, I said no. On both occasions it was just too early in the day for my taste, plus I’ve had terrible mornings these past days. It also just so happens that both the mall and the specific cinema she was going to give me terrible anxiety. I’ve never tried to explain this to her because she never understands my anxiety. She’ll just brush it off, roll her eyes, and say “Oh, please…” then proceed to think that I just don’t want to go out with her (which ins’t true 99% of the times).

But, going back to feeling ugly. I’m isolating because I feel ugly and I’ve got lots of anxiety. I know it. I don’t even want to go out with friends, and if I do, I only want to go out at night because the anxiety is less. Starting to feel it all bringing me down.

I can’t live here anymore. I think of The Ex. He might be anywhere. He might see me. His wife might see me. He’ll think he did nothing wrong to me. Worse, he might actually be proud of himself for “taking away my ‘virginity’ and being the ‘first one'” (he stated this back in the day…I shudder thinking about this). Meanwhile, she’ll think I’m a w***e, maybe even text me for just being in the same place as them.

How does this all make me feel? Ugly. And the acne. The fucking acne.

Makes me think kids in middle and high school were right: I was a “butt-fucking ugly” piece of shit “bitch”. I feel pathetic thinking about those people from the past while in my twenties.

Why was I so weak? Why couldn’t I just brush the bullying off like other people seem to be able to do? Why was I so fucking sensitive?

And The Ex….The fucking Ex….who still has such a strong hold on my life so many years later…I want him gone. Away. I want him to disappear….into a black hole so that every little bit of mass encompassing him becomes nothing…

I want my life back.

 

 

 

I saw G this past week. It went great. Hadn’t seen her in quite a while.

She was happy to see me in such a good mood and said that I seem to be doing great. She said she was proud of me. I love making her and R proud 🙂

Mostly we talked about men. About the Russian and C. She told me that she thinks I am moving too quickly once I meet a new guy. In other words, I jump into bed too fast. She said I should take the time to get to know guys better because for all intents and purposes any new guy could be the man of my dreams or an asshole. So, it’s better to get to know them than to get so involved initially and then get hurt after only a month or two have passed (like the Russian).

And, she said, I have to be very clear on what exactly it is that I want out of a guy. If it’s just sex, then fine. If it’s a relationship, then fine. Just as long as I am clear that that’s what I want, nothing more or less.

At first I felt taken aback and terribly embarrassed. I thought she was calling me a s**t, which was triggering because the Ex’s wife called me that a few times. I even emailed her afterward because I was triggered.

I mean, is it wrong for me to explore my sexuality as a single twentysomething who’s only beginning to enter the dating scene? Is it wrong for me to explore what I like and enjoy about sex on my own terms after being abused for 5 years? I was horrified. I couldn’t understand why G, who had never seemed particularly conservative to me, was disagreeing with me.

But then I asked my friends, got their input, and I finally understood what it was that she wanted to say.

She wasn’t calling me a s**t. She was merely looking out for me. What she was trying to tell me was that I have to be more careful who I open myself up to (figuratively and literally, ha!) so that I don’t get hurt. I have to protect myself emotionally. She just wants me to think things through before I let myself get carried away. She’s not disagreeing with my exploring my sexuality, quite the contrary, she knows that means I’ve progressed.

But she also knows I’m sensitive and naive when it comes to dating, and I can get hurt easily. She knows I can easily get triggered into thinking about the Ex if any random asshole hurts me in the smallest possible way.

She’s trying to protect me.

And that means so much to me.

Being alone in so many new cities during interview season has opened my eyes to who I could be. When I’m alone and far away from my home city I’m so confident about myself, my body…you’d be surprised to see how I carry myself. I have almost no fear regarding dating and meeting men because I feel good enough for most anyone. It’s crazy!

But I know I’ve taken that newfound confidence and gotten a bit carried away with it. It’s good to know I have it in me in spite of all my issues, but I have to be a bit more careful with it. It’s like discovering some magical power you didn’t know you had. I have to learn how to manage it now, I guess.

So there’s that. Going to try and take it slower with the guys now. I think it’s best.

 

 

Tomorrow I’m going back to the city that I adore.

The interview for that top program I got invited to is on Monday. I am scared shitless and unprepared. Just getting invited to this place is awesome. Matching there is….unimaginable to me. That is, if I like it. I might run out of there on Monday at the end of the day hating the place, so who knows? Either way, I want to give off a decent impression. I don’t know if I have what it takes, to be honest. They tell you to just be yourself, but is “myself” really enough for these people?

Unfortunately, I won’t be staying with the Russian. Actually, I don’t even know if I’ll be able to see him. Apparently, he’ll be in his home city for the weekend, so I’ll have to stay at a hotel (there goes the money I had managed to save up so far). I don’t know where I stand right now with him.

The week I spent with the Russian went great. I enjoyed my time with him very much. It was all good at first, but then the two last days I don’t know what happened. He saw the ugly side of me and I saw the ugly side of him, which is fine…thing is, I don’t know whether he’s still interested or not since we had a bittersweet goodbye and we’ve barely spoken this week.

So, those last two days he showed me a side of him that I wasn’t very fond of, mainly because it reminded me of the Ex. We went shopping and I freaked out thinking he might have an obsession with money like the Ex did after I saw how he behaved at the mall. I even asked him how important money was to him. I think that pretty much prepped me up for a bad day, as I spent the day really quiet, triggered, and on edge. He noticed I was abnormally quiet and I had no other way of responding except “I’m ok”.

By the end of the day I was pissed as I was tired and hungry and that’s never a good combination with me. He’d already said a few comments during the day that kind of ruined the moment. When we got back to his apartment he said something that made me snap because I felt unappreciated and again, it reminded me of the Ex. And unfortunately I couldn’t hold it in anymore: I started crying.

He noticed I was crying in the bed and he lay next to me, holding me. I was trapped. I had to give him an explanation for my random crying. And so, I said it: “I was abused for 5 years.” Then I went on to explain that I can be very sensitive to things that make me feel slightly unappreciated and that all of this was new to me as I had never dated anyone long-term since the abuse.

He was great about it. He was quiet for a bit and then we ended up talking about how abuse is no stranger to him, as his closest friend is currently entwined in an abuse-related situation. He was then vulnerable with me and answered my question about the importance he places on money and explained that he didn’t have an obsession with money or brands, but he liked quality things, as his family lived in extreme poverty when he was young. I think I just phrased it terribly, but the point I’m trying to get across is that he was open to me just as I was open to him….and I appreciated that so much because I hadn’t seen him be so vulnerable with me before.

He then told me that what I said didn’t change how he saw me (after I asked him). A bunch of points in his favor there.

Then, before I left for my first interview (where I’m currently at), I asked him whether he would mind my coming back to stay with him this very same week. And he didn’t like the idea. That took me by surprise. He tried to explain he had to clean his apartment and that after a week it was so dirty…blah blah. I was kind of hurt and left him with a cold kiss, but then after I left I realized what he said was code for: “I just need a break to be alone in my own apartment again.” So, I texted him:

Screenshot_2015-11-05-21-15-53

Whether or not it’s true, I took his triple hearts response to mean: “Thank you for understanding.”

This week he’s been super busy catching up with work. He knows I have an interview back in the city on Monday and was open to my staying with him again. So, I texted him to confirm:

Screenshot_2015-11-06-16-11-49

“Oh ok” is code for “WTF I’M GONNA HAVE TO SPEND $400 ON A HOTEL NOW AND I DON’T GET TO SEE YOU EITHER???!!!”

“On the same page” is an internal joke we have for when I asked him whether he was looking for serious dating or just fooling around, and “72” is the “right answer” if you want to call it that. I wrote him a few things after that, including that I don’t know when I’ll be coming back to the city and that I’m excited to see “what’s in page 73”. Again, that’s another internal joke. When I was with him last week he said he wanted to see what was “in pages 73, 74, and in the next chapters”.

But he hasn’t answered. No surprise there, he’s terrible at paying attention to his phone and I was witness to that during the last week. Of course, that doesn’t work well with the Borderline in me…

Whenever he takes longer than 5 minutes to answer. No joke.

Whenever he takes longer than 5 minutes to answer. No joke.

I don’t know. I’m so confused. I hate dating. I hate it so much. I don’t know what to make of his silence and I’m probably reading too much into it.

But yeah, I like this guy so far. There were those bumps where he reminded me of the Ex, but I’m sure that will happen with any guy I date, due to the fact that the Ex was unfortunately my first “everything”. I mean, his being a man reminds me of the Ex, for chrissakes.

I’m just so insecure and so weak…and I think he can sniff it on me. I was so strong during my visiting rotation at the city when we first met, so protective of myself and my heart, but now that I was with him this week all that went to shambles and I’ve gotten so…dependent. I’m back to being a weak mush with no personality and mildly depressed.

I’m all alone in this strange non-walkable city right now, missing him, wanting to make things right with him, with severe black/white thinking and uninspired to be a psychiatrist. I’m afraid of getting even more depressed because I feel I have no support. There’s no G or R here obviously, and I’m incredibly pissed at MM and how she’s distanced herself from the family for the past two months. I have my friends, but they’re not quite cutting it right now, much less since they can’t be here physically. I have no one. In a span of days my mood went from great to crap. My mood was great the day of the interview, but the loneliness got to me now.

And I need that strength back you guys. The interview at the top program is on Monday, the pre-interview dinner is on Sunday….I mean, how the hell am I going to convince them I’m a good candidate if I can’t get that strength back?

I am so worried. And depressed. But I haven’t reached the point of no return. I just have to figure out a way of returning. 😦

I purged a small portion of my dinner a little while ago. I feel like a failure for not getting rid of more, but I let it all fester in my stomach for too long after eating.

I have petechiae around my eyes now, as always happens. But, and this is new, while purging I could feel the acid burning my throat. Plus, the fact that dinner was particularly spicy didn’t help matters either.

It’s been about an hour since that happened and I can still feel a chunk of barely digested food/vomit hanging around the back of my throat. It refuses to go down no matter how much I swallow. Glamorous, right?

Triggers today: eating too much, my distended abdomen, the number on the scale this morning, not being able to take dance class due to being away from home, feeling mildly depressed and barely moving today, all the new things and changes happening in my life…

November marks the most difficult month of the year for me. I get depressed any time of the year, but November is pretty consistent since my teens. Being on the interview trail now has its pros and cons…I have a huge distraction to keep my mind off November and all it represents, but the pressure also has the potential to break me on a month I am already fragile to begin with.

Today was the Ex’s birthday. After waking up I checked facebook on my phone and smiled at some silly videos. But my smile instantly disappeared the second I noticed the date the screen was displaying.

Every year during the month of November I expect the Ex’s wife to pop into my life once again and call me a whore and threaten to ruin me. It’s tradition.

Ironically, November is the Russian’s favorite month of the year. Oh dear…

So far, 2015 has been different in a good way, so I hope November 2015 is no exception.

Well, since I don’t want to be a complete party pooper, I’ll post some good news first. For some reason I forgot to post this back in September:

I PASSED STEP 2 CK!

And with a decently solid score if I may say so myself. Touché.

anigif_original-grid-image-27785-1417376698-14

Now that I’ve given you the good news, I’ll give you the party-pooping part of this post: I had a nasty BPD flare-up this weekend.

And guess who it had to do with? You got that right! The Russian of course!

Second weekend in a row it happens, actually. And it was the same thing all over again: apparently he was spending the weekend with his parents (who live in a state nearby) and he barely texted or communicated at all. (Whether or not it’s true that he was with his parents, I’ll just have to believe him on that. Either way, we’re not yet at that stage where we’re totally exclusive so…*shrug*.) Of course, he only informed me of this after the fact…after all the borderline-ness just decided to come by and say “Hey dumbass, I’m still here” and create a messy goo in my head.

So, while The Russian was apparently back in his home city for the weekend, I was wringing my hands and going nuts at home. Abandonment. That pretty much sums it up. The abandonment I felt was so terrible, it just got the best of me. My thinking went literally from realistic to a complete gob of black/white extremes and freakish splitting. My head was filled with: Obviously he’s with someone else. Obviously he’s taken and you’re just the sloppy seconds…because you’re always the side-piece, and you always will be. It’s all you deserve because you’re a pile of shit. You’ve got a sign on your forehead that says ‘use and abuse me’, you idiot.

“You’re the sloppy seconds.” That phrase got stuck in my head the moment the Ex’s wife said it to me. And it’s been there for a few years now. Every time I like a guy it’s what pops automatically into my head. Sad, right? I’ve gotten better at silencing the voices of the Ex (and his wife) this year, but the thoughts are always exacerbated by dates, men, or crushes. See the connection?

So, this past weekend, the thoughts of self-harm and dying were at an all time high again. The negativity, the hatred toward myself, and even some symptoms of depression were there. I was angry at literally everyone. Any slight anger I had toward a certain person got inflated into this nasty monster of hate. I was genuinely and irrevocably pissed out of my damn mind at MM for making me feel abandoned with her lack of communication lately, at R and G for canceling appointments this month, at my two best med school friends for being so busy with residency and not having time for me, and at the Russian for just suddenly disappearing. I was kind of afraid of myself to be honest. I hadn’t felt that amount of pure anger in quite a while.

And here is where the embarrassing part comes along: it all went away in literally one second the moment I received a text from the Russian saying “baby”. That’s all it took. One word and one emoji later, it was as though nothing happened. A switch had gone on during the weekend and the moment the Russian reappeared the switch went back off. Granted, I was withholding my texting and calling as a test to see if he even remotely thought of me. And it took just one word on Sunday night to put the monster back  to sleep.

I am so embarrassed. Why? Because I wasn’t able to calm the BPD down. And I’m afraid of the Russian ever finding out what truly goes on in my head. I’m afraid of him (or any other guy I might date, for that matter) finding out I’m not as calm and composed as I look and I have a dark past and present still going on in my head. I’m afraid of that scaring them away, making them think I’m just some “crazy chick”. It’s all funny in the movies and TV, but it’s not at all funny when you‘re the “crazy chick” in real life.

In summary: I’m afraid of ever having to tell a boyfriend/date/whatever, about my mental illness. I’m simply terrified of it. Will they take a step back in horror and run away for dear life? I hate having secrets, but the fear of abandonment is so strong.

I dropped hints here and there at the Russian back in September. I told him I was having nightmares and it was a long story and I was sorry after my tossing and turning one night didn’t let him sleep. He was worried, and said it was ok. But how am I ever going to bring myself to tell him that the nightmares I was having were of him turning into my abuser while he slept next to me?

How will I ever bring myself to tell him that I’ve had problems with mental illness? How will I ever bring myself to tell him that I have problems with chronic recurrent mental illness and that he might have to deal with that at some point if he so decides to pursue a relationship with me? How to tell him that it’s been drilled into your head that you’re a “piece of shit” and “abusable”? How to tell him he’ll have to deal with stuff like depression, suicide, anger, restricting food, purging, terrible self-image, loss of sex-drive, anxiety, fears of abandonment, and company…and that he can’t do much about it except be a source of support?

How do you tell a guy…that you’re incredibly imperfect?

I’m afraid of my mental illness eventually making me lose a guy who’s actually worth it.

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