I have always found it beneficial to hear other people’s stories and, in doing so, discover something about my own situation and look for helpful insights or actions that I can put to use. Conversely, I sometimes find examples of what not to do. These are constructive insights as well. I will attempt to keep my story as short and concise as possible. This is my experience with being in a relationship with someone who I believe has BPD and how I managed through the process.
The Dating Years
We knew each other in high school but didn’t date until college when we found ourselves home for break with nothing to do. From the first date, we were inseparable the rest of the holiday break. She seemed genuinely interested and excited about the new relationship, She had recently ended a long-term relationship and I was a little surprised she was this interested so early on. As we left to go back to our respective schools, the long distance dating began. I think the first warning sign was the insistence that we see each other every weekend. Ar first it was fun, but the drive was nearly 5 hours and there were times I just wanted to stay and spend the weekend with my friends. I thought it was very strange when I had discussed not visiting for a coming weekend just a few days before, only to find her at my doorstep late on a Friday evening as she decided to drive 5 hours, unannounced, to surprise me. Boy was I surprised.
The relationship continued however and I let some of the petty jealousies go by without saying anything. Like the time I found her late at night destroying a gift from a previous girlfriend. It was a beautiful piece of cross stitch that I liked very much. It was a nice gift. That is until I found her having peeled off the back of the frame and she was undoing the stitches piece by piece and destroyed the gift. I was very angry but her defense was that she was afraid she couldn’t compete with the former girlfriend who had so much more going on than her. So rather than confront her about her behavior, I ended up trying to console her. What I should have done was to ask her to leave to give me some time to think about the relationship but I didn’t do that. I would have to examine the reasons for that 20 years later.
But beside the jealousy streak, she was a good person, we were from the same home town, and I thought she would make a good spouse. After all, we liked the same things and had the same career goals. We were so compatible is was just hard to believe that I would find anyone else that could match it. I had made another mistake. I should have wondered a little more about all this compatibility. And there was the weird insistence that she transfer her last year of grad school (where she had a full scholarship) to pay full tuition at the expensive law school where I was living. Supposedly, she loved me so much she just couldn’t stand the thought of not being close-by. So that was a $40,000 decision I wasn’t expecting to make.
Well, even though there were some nagging questions, it seemed like it was the right time to settle down and this was the person I happened to be dating and we seemed very compatible so…I guess we should get married.
B.K. (before kids)
I couldn’t quite put my hands on it. Every time there was a moment of emotional intimacy, a seemingly invisible, thin wall would go up. Maybe the best way was to say there was an underlying level of awkwardness that made things a little uncomfortable. Maybe it was just the way the two of us reacted around each other. I had felt more at ease with past girlfriends but I couldn’t explain this invisible wall. Oh well, I was married anyway. And there were some strange occurrences. One was the time I picked her up after she had drinks with co-workers (we had both finished grad school by then). On the way home, she became very upset over something that happened at the restaurant and tried to open the car door and jump out at 40 miles per hour! I had no idea (and still don’t) what happened but I just decided she wasn’t very good at holding her liquor.
We had discussed, in detail, our plans for a family. Fortunately we were on the same page that we had professional careers and we would wait until we were established and well placed financially before having children. Well at least I thought that was the agreement. That’s before I came home one day and found her crying and saying that something had come over her and she just had to have a baby. Plus, she was suffering from some female problems that would make it very difficult for her to conceive and it would take years for her to get pregnant anyway so we had better start. Of course, my daughter was born 9 months later.
She also had a habit of disclosing information in bits and drabs. At first, she was only taking 6 weeks and going back to work. Then it became a few months and she would go back because 6 weeks was a very short period of time. Right before my daughter was born, I was informed she would not be going back but would stay home to provide the love and nurture that our daughter needed. So much for the law degree and the last year at the private school rather than the scholarship. It had cost $40,000 to transfer and she had made $25,000 before quitting to stay at home. Makes sense.
I’m sorry, What?!?!?
Having a family was a lot more fun than I anticipated. My daughter had me wrapped around her finger. Even though I had wanted to wait for children, I was ecstatic to have a daughter. Then a son was born less than two years later. Parenthood was upon me. But the job was going well and so things were stable.
But my daughter was not progressing as she should. So at age 2 1/2, we went to meet with a child psychologist who told us our daughter was autistic. It was devastating news to say the least. That began a stage of life where she underwent 40 hours of therapy a week with strangers practically living in our home to work with her. If that wasn’t enough to send us reeling, imagine the scene 18 months later where we got the same diagnosis for my son. Autism. Twice. A university even contacted us to see if we would be part of a study.
As far as I know, that was when the first suicide attempt occurred. I got a call that she had taken a lot of pills but that it was ok because she had thought about the kids and had made herself vomit. That led to a psychiatric visit where she was told she could be bipolar (I later found out they also suggested possible BPD) and she was given some meds. I wasn’t up to speed on bipolar and the kids were the primary focus of attention so I didn’t give this information its due consideration. I’ll always regret that. I just attributed it to the pressure of having two autistic kids and so I tucked my head and kept working.
The Ostrich
For the next 5 years or so, life was relatively stable. The kids got into a routine as they started elementary school, we moved to a new city, I sold a business and started a new one….well, that’s my relative view of stable and quiet. The children were still young and manageable and my wife was thrilled with the new house that came with a nice decorating budget. All of the underlying issues remained but on the surface everything seemed under control and so I continued to “whistle past the graveyard” and pour myself into the kids and work. Having changed jobs, I was at home more often to help with the kids.
Toward the end of this period, my youngest started displaying signs of behavior problems. At first it was some behavior problems at school, but eventually it spilled over at home. He began to lash out at family members, especially his sister, and would all of sudden go into a rage and bite, kick, choke, hit…anything to lash out. It only lasted a few minutes and then he was very sorrowful but the damage had been done. At one point I attached locks to all the doors in the house but his aggression was such that he broke the locks and the door jams. To control or limit his behavior, he had to be constantly monitored when he was at home to make sure he didn’t go after his sister. Most of the time everything was fine, but you had to watch for the signs that he was anxious and on edge. To better help the situation, he began to see a psychiatrist and was put on medication. Never would I have guessed what a long and difficult process that would become.
The Long Downward Slide
I don’t know if I can pinpoint the date, but at some point my wife began a slow, downward path into a deep depression. It started out slowly at first and I do remember coming home from a charity event (which seemed to be uneventful) and she just started crying inconsolably. That was the first sign. Over the course of a couple of years, she began to spend more and more time at home, would stay in her bath robe all day and neglect most of the housework. In retrospect, the slide was stunning but when you’re in the middle of it everyday, you don’t see it. You become sort of numb to it and can’t see it develop in real time. So the care of the children fell more and more to me such that, after several years of seeing the psychiatrist for my son, I couldn’t take him to an appointment one day and she didn’t even know the psychiatrists name or where the office was located. Somewhere along the line I realized what I had instinctively felt for many years. I was the lone adult in a household full of dependents (including a narcissistic mother-in-law but that’s a story for another day). This period of time marked about 2 years following the relatively stable period.
The 5 Alarm Fire Drill
I knew things were bad and weren’t getting any better but I had no idea how really bad everything had become. One day I was talking to her in her office off the kitchen (still in bath robe late in the afternoon, unkept, etc) when I noticed her arm. Apparently she had been wearing long sleeves for some time because I hadn’t noticed. But when she lifted her arm, I saw it. From wrist to elbow, there was a line of crisp, neat cuts all the way down. Then I realized it was on the other arm as well. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Why would someone deliberately hurt themselves? It made no sense at the time. Only later as I read the materials on cutting did I start to understand her perspective. Cutting made her feel better as though it was transferring the internal emotional pain to the physical realm.
At that point I knew she was in a deep depression and it was a wake up call to me that she needed some serious help. I asked her if she wanted to go to the hospital and she said she did. Once we arrived however, she begged and pleaded for me to take her home. It was incredibly sad because she could barely function. She was so out of it that she was compliant but when the time came to actually be committed to the hospital, she was very afraid. The doctors told me she would be there several days, at least 3, no more than 10. Leaving the hospital, I felt this overwhelming sense of relief. At least I knew she was safe and wouldn’t harm herself. But I also felt like I had one less dependent to focus on and the kids needed a lot of attention from me especially after having to explain to them that their mother was sick.
After about a week, she was dismissed and her mood was greatly improved. I remember her coming home and announcing that everything was ok now, she felt better, and she was so glad to have her family back and for everything to be back to normal. I was stunned. I felt like what I witnessed was the culmination of years of serious emotional problems and here she was declaring that everything was back to normal after only a week.
For years, I had walked on eggshells around her. I had been on the receiving end of her reactions whenever I said anything that could be construed as criticism, no matter how softly I delivered the message. So, to avoid those type of reactions, I said nothing and just tried to keep the peace. But in this case I had to say something. Over the next couple of days I worked up the courage to tell her that everything was not o.k., our marriage was in real trouble, and that she needed intensive help. I told her I wouldn’t leave and would give her all the time she needed but she had to start intensive therapy right away..and not just focus on the past few years but to go way back to whenever this started and work on it.
That’s when all hell broke loose.
The Process
At first she seemed on board with this idea. But I quickly realized that all of her time and efforts were going into saving the marriage and not working on her behavioral and self-esteem issues. From the get-go I started being smothered by her time and attention. She would call incessantly until I picked up the phone or text me over and over again with small matters of no importance. She wanted to make sure I wouldn’t leave and pulled out all the stops to make it so. This started a year or two long period where I couldn’t help but cringe every time the phone rang.
She would pull out everything imaginable to know where I was and how she could be with me. While I was trying to get some separation so I could think, she came up with the idea of spending all day in my office so she could pay some rent to help my fledgling business. At one point she came to my office and said she wanted to make me a proposition. She started out by saying that her dad had left her when she was in high school and if I were to leave, it would devastate our daughter. Consequently, she was willing to offer me a “contract” that she wanted me to sign. It was basically a deal where if she showed absolutely no emotions for the next 3 years, I would stay. If she were to break that contract, I was free to leave. I sat there trying to wrap my head around such a crazy proposal. How in the world did she even come up with that? I also pointed out that her dad didn’t leave her, he died of cancer at a relatively young age. For her to equate that with leaving was just a bizarre analogy.
The behaviors just kept getting worse from there. She was constantly wanting to talk about the relationship. She wanted assurance after assurance that everything was alright. She would wake me up in the middle of the night to discuss matters. She would either make a lot of noise in the closet or turn on the lights and wake me up. I wasn’t getting enough sleep, was trying to run a business and take care of the kids at the same time. I was becoming exhausted day by day. At one point she suggested I was the one with the depression problems and that I should see a psychologist. I had to admit that depression seemed to be a real concern because I was losing interest in the things that mattered to me. I also wanted to see if there was something I was doing to make matters worse. What I didn’t want to do was to start marriage counseling. I was adamant about that. I was concerned that marriage counseling would be used as a straw man to cover up the real underlying issues. I didn’t see us having a marriage problem, I saw us having individual problems.
The psychologist was wonderful and quickly got to the meat of the issues. He readily agreed that marriage counseling didn’t make sense. What he did point out hit me like a truck. For all of those years, I didn’t speak up when I had the chance. Rather, I substituted truth for peace. And therein lay my problem. For whatever reason, I was afraid to rock the boat and bring issues to the forefront. And so I buried them and let them fester. But ultimately the truth always comes out and the peace I thought I had wasn’t a real peace at all. That was a big realization for me. It was also clear very early on that he thought the marriage was unreconcilable and so I think he was working on a way for me to see the most likely final outcome of the marriage rather than how to try and fix it.
Along the way he gave me some books to read and in doing so, I came across a term I had never heard; Borderline Personality Disorder. But as I read about it, everything started to click. For the first time, I started to be able to piece together all these disparate behaviors into one big category. I bought Stop Walking on Eggshells and all of a sudden the last 20 years made sense to me.
Armed with this information, I asked him about it at the next session and he said it was a real possibility. Finally I had a name to put with my observations that something was seriously wrong. So I consumed myself with reading as much as I could. Moreover, I reached out to my mother in law to explain what I had learned and I also bought her some books on the topic and told her that her daughter had a serious condition but we needed to read and learn about it so we could find ways to help her. At first, the message seemed well received. But a couple of weeks later, I asked her if she had read any of the books. She said she had not because she had trouble concentrating on the material. At that point, things began to change and she started becoming hostile to me to the point where she said that nothing was wrong with her daughter except the fact she didn’t like rejection which was a perfectly normal response since I had rejected her. She then started telling people that I was having a mid-life crisis and everything that was going on was on account of me. I guess I was naive not to see it coming. To go to great lengths to buy the books and carefully sit down and explain to her what I had learned only to be completely rebuffed and then have the tables turned on me. Needless to say, the relationship with the mother in law was never the same and continues to be very bitter even today.
The Hardest Question Ever
So as the drama continued to unfold as she refused to acknowledge the depth of the issues, the behaviors worsened and the suicidal thoughts/attempts and the hospitalizations increased. Given that I had two children with special needs and a wife with bipolar disorder and undiagnosed borderline personality disorder, I was always on edge on seemingly moving from one crisis to another. Fortunately, there seemed to be only one crisis at a time and I was thankful for that because I didn’t believe I could handle all three of them in crisis at once.
But one day that’s exactly what happened. She was suicidal and in the hospital again and during an encounter at home, my son violently attacked my daughter. As I was trying to calm the situation and comfort her, she asked me the hardest question I have ever been asked. Through the tears and grief, she looked up at me and asked, “Why does God hate our family so?”. And it was with that question that I think I hit rock bottom. Growing up in a Christian home, I always had faith and always had a response for something like that. But over the years, my faith was shattered and in that moment, the only answer I could muster was that I didn’t know. Because it certainly felt that way. It felt like God had put a curse over us and I didn’t know why. What had I done to deserve this? Was I being punished? What did God want from us? If He was there, it certainly didn’t seem like He cared or was going to intervene in any way. I had the most dysfunctional family I could imagine and yet I was trying to hold it together for appearance sake. I was at the end of my rope and didn’t know what to do. I just knew that things had to change and it had to start with me.
Forced to Change
Ultimately, I knew that if I didn’t get some space and time to heal, I would be going down that rabbit hole of depression along with my wife. And I simply couldn’t allow that to happen because someone had to look after the kids. After a year of trying to be there so she could work on things, I was at the bitter end. I couldn’t keep it up any more. And so I brought up the idea of separation. It didn’t go over very well but I kept insisting that we needed time apart to gain perspective. I needed a break and I needed to be alone. The thought of not being around my children every day was absolutely heartbreaking but I felt that I didn’t have a choice. I had to heal and be there for them and this was the only way.
The separation started out ok. Ironically, the kids stayed at home and I leased a condo where my wife and I would move back and forth every few days. The thought was to not punish the children and allow them to be at home all of the time. In general, it worked fairly well. But about six months into it, I got a call while on a business trip and she told me she couldn’t stay in the house any more. The memories were too painful and she had to get her own place. By the time I returned from the trip, she had signed a lease and was moving out.
And so began the process of separating and ultimately filing for divorce. For the better part of a year, I wasn’t seeing any marked improvement or acknowledgement of the deep seated problems. Rather, she was running with the bipolar diagnosis and stating it was chemical and could be treated with meds. I wasn’t buying it and so, after being questioned exhaustively by my psychologist why it was taking so long to decide, I filed for divorce. The decision was excruciatingly painful because I didn’t want any more regrets. As bad as the marriage seemed to be, I still felt it was important for the stability of the children and I also knew that I had not been the best husband over the years having neglected to follow through on many of the warning signs I had seen. In addition, I had regrettably gotten into a relationship and was torn. Whether it was out of loneliness or any other reason, it didn’t matter. It only contributed to the difficulties in the marriage and was wrong. And so I wrestled mightily with fear, obligation and guilt. And as I was sure that God was punishing my family, I felt as though I would be punished in the future and that it was only fitting to find myself divorced and alone. That’s what I deserved. But in the end it was the least worst option I had.
No More Roller Coaster
As prepared as I was for a contentious divorce, it never came. It was actually quite smooth and straightforward (although later she would tell me she was so depressed that she made decisions she regretted). We basically split everything 50/50 and we made arrangements for joint 50/50 custody with the kids. Unlike many horror stories I’ve read about the divorce process, thankfully mine did not get ugly and the kids didn’t have to go through any additional suffering as a result.
Throughout the process, she seemed to swing from one extreme to the other. She had periods of being suicidal and then there were moments of clarity. As the divorce was underway I remember having a conversation sitting outside in front of the house. She acknowledged many of her issues and said that her self-esteem was nonexistent. She told me she loathed herself. She also admitted that she had never enjoyed sex which explained a lot about the last 23 years. But it was a genuine and real conversation that seemed to be more intimate than any conversation we had ever had before. There was pain and it was difficult, but even though I wanted and filed for divorce, what I really wanted was for her to be well. That was more important than the marriage and it was more important than being angry and assigning blame. I just wanted her to be well.
As you can probably predict, the moment of clarity left soon thereafter. Even after the divorce was finalized, she would have more suicidal episodes and have to be hospitalized. She was in terrible shape and sometimes had to see the psychologist daily. The divorce may have been final but the reality of parenting with two special needs kids was fully present.
God’s Grace and Providence
My daughter’s question kept haunting me. I had moved away from God because I couldn’t see that it really mattered all that much. Look at where my faith had gotten me thus far. Nothing was going right and I was sure that my happiest days were in the rear view mirror. I just wanted peace in my life. But yet, something started drawing me closer to God. As the chaos subsided, I began to see that the feelings I had over the last few years were just that; feelings. Just because I couldn’t understand it didn’t mean it wasn’t real. Perhaps God hadn’t abandoned our family. Perhaps God wasn’t punishing us at all even though it felt that way. I should know better. I lived in a household where feelings drove everything. I began to realize that I was letting these emotions and feelings drive my behavior as well. I had fallen into that trap and it was time to find my way back. It was time to begin to restore my faith.
The Un-Fairy Tale
Life didn’t magically turn around. My kids still have autism and recently I had to place my youngest into a residential facility. Life will always be hard for him and he will never live independently. And I am helpless to change that. My daughter is in college and has achieved more than I ever dreamed for her but she will continue to face challenges as well. She is socially awkward and immature. I worry about her a lot and sometimes feel as though I’ve shortchanged her because her brother got the bulk of my attention out of necessity.
My ex-wife has had a remarkable turnaround over the past year. After being depressed and suicidal, she met someone and is in a happy relationship. I’m glad for her. Although I see a lot of warning flags and I worry about her bipolar swings, she is stable and happy and that is much better than being depressed and suicidal.
As the divorce was being completed, I started dating. But before I did, I sat down and wrote out a list of qualities and characteristics I would be looking for in my next relationship. When I finished, the list had 57 items. I wasn’t looking for anything right away and certainly wasn’t expecting it. After all, my situation was not completely enticing: two special needs children and a BPD/bipolar ex-wife. I was pretty sure this would be a deal breaker for almost anyone I met.
And so I started dating again. And I used the checklist. I wanted a standard that would be easy to identify and compare against. And so it became quite easy to discern when someone, though a perfectly nice person, didn’t match the criteria.
So after wading back into the deep end of the dating pool, there was someone I met who was in alignment with my list. Some of the items were easy to check very early on. Some would take a lot more time because they couldn’t be answered until you fully knew a person. And so we started the dating process and slowly but surely, every single item began to be checked. She’s not my soul mate and I’m not her’s either. We don’t believe in that. She had an independent life before I came along and she doesn’t need me to complete her. She is a wonderful mother and is kind and generous beyond words. She is optimistic. She has good, long-standing friendships with both males and females. She works hard. She is both mentally and emotionally healthy (a big deal for me but at times she’s been concerned that’s my number one criteria!). She is a wonderful and lovely person both inside and out. We have our disagreements and we work them out through conversation and compromise. We will never be perfect people or a perfect couple. But we are committed to loving each other and to having an extraordinary marriage, not because it’s magical but because we both commit to work hard at it. Our wedding is planned for January, 2015.
Looking back 5 years ago, I never imagined the twists and turns my life would take. I was in the middle of a storm and what few options I had looked like really bad choices. The task of moving forward and changing the dynamic was daunting and even overwhelming. It was all I could do to get through the next day, much less plan for a day where there would be peace and happiness again. But that day did come. It was a slow, methodical process but it did occur. I’m optimistic again. I’m looking forward to the days ahead and the trajectory my life will take.
For those of you in a relationship with someone who has BPD, I’m not telling you to either stay or leave the relationship. Those choices are based on facts and circumstances I don’t know and each of you has to work through the emotions you feel and decide what is right for you. But what I will tell you is that, if the dynamic is to change, it’s up to you. The BPD person in your life is unlikely to change, especially if not required to do so. As long as you keep doing what you’ve always done, you should expect to get what you’ve always gotten. The reason the relationship is cyclical is because you haven’t done anything to break the cycle. Let’s face it, you're the adult and if it’s to be different, then it’s up to you. For some, instigating and demanding change is a way to improve your BPD’s behavior enough so that you can stay in the relationship and have an acceptable relationship. For others, it may be the beginning of the end. By demanding something different and by drawing boundaries, you may be nearing the end of the relationship. My whole point is to stop going in circles and start moving forward. Most people in a relationship with someone with BPD has one or more issues themselves. Everybody does. By working on being the healthiest person you can be (physically, emotionally, spiritually) you will start to break the cycle because you will find yourself changing. You will start becoming a better and healthier person and that will change the dynamic of the relationship. The question is whether you can live with the consequences. I’m amazed at how many people would trade the comfort of a bad relationship for the unknowns of an improved or new relationship. We are all afraid of change. It’s hard and it’s not easy. An so, for some of us, we choose to do nothing and just maintain the status quo. But if you aren’t growing, you’re dying. Growth is hard but necessary. And ultimately, growth is the only way to a happy and peaceful life. I hope everyone who reads this will take away just one thought: self-examination is one of the most difficult tasks in life. We lie to ourselves way more often than we lie to other people. But self-examination brings maturity and personal growth. My encouragement is to not let your present situation and circumstances prevent you from taking that bold step forward to examine yourself, be honest with what you discover, and give yourself the gift of personal growth such that all of your relationships improve.
UPDATE
It’s been about six months now, and so I think an update to my story is appropriate. In January, I married a wonderful woman and here are some observations:
Unlike the gut feeling I had 20 years ago that something wasn’t right, I had no such concerns or worries this time. The wedding weekend was filled with family and friends and it was as comfortable as the first marriage was uneasy. I’ve learned to listen to my gut instinct. But because I had taken the time and done the work to make sure this was the right decision, the sense of peace was overwhelming.
I’ve been extremely fortunate because the blending of families has been extraordinarily easy. I know that’s not the case for many second marriages but that’s been one less concern for me and for that I am thankful.
I realize just how happy I am. I find myself singing in the car again. I find myself looking forward to being home. I enjoy the laughter in the house. I enjoy knowing that whatever disagreements we may have are inconsequential in the overall scheme of things and will be kept in their proper perspective. I feel loved for who I am and what I aspire to be, not what I represent or what I provide.
I have a new perspective based on something I recently read. I’ve always hated the term “soul mate” because I think it’s a trap and leads people to think that there’s only one person in the universe to whom they could be married. Further, it creates the “right person” myth that says if you just meet the right person, everything will turn out all right. Instead, I believe that by becoming the right person, you will naturally gravitate toward people who reflect your character, beliefs and values. To me, there were many people that I could marry, find compatability and a healthy, loving relationship. Likewise, my wife could have literally chosen from dozens and dozens of pontential relationships that would have led to a healthy and happy relationship. I’m not unique, I’m not her soul mate, I’m just glad she chose me. But one idea I’ve come to embrace is that, even though we were not “soul mates” at the beginning, now that we are married, something has changed. Now that we have committed to each other to love, help and support each other, we are now walking on a journey where we will become soul mates over time. We didn’t get married because we were soul mates, but because we’re married and committed to each other, we will become soul mates as we grow old together.