Letter I can’t send…

It’s been a bunch of dark days for me lately so I’m trying something a bit different this time.  I know I’m not going to send this directly to the person it’s for and the odds are against them seeing it, but maybe if I write it all out anyway it’ll keep me from doing anything stupid.

Dear L.,

It’s basically been a month since I’ve actually spoken to you.  I know it’s not the longest we’ve ever gone without speaking but it feels like an eternity this time because it kind of is.  This time we’re not speaking because you’re gone.  My worst fear came true and I hurt you too badly to ever hope that you’ll want to talk to me again in any capacity.  I can’t bring myself to message you or email you because I don’t know if any attempted contact would just make things worse and I know how terrible it feels when someone that’s hurt you just kind of “pops” into your life unexpectedly.  I don’t want to do that to you.  I’ve done enough.

I wonder how you’re doing.  I wonder how your family is doing.  I wonder if you’re feeling more comfortable at work since you had talked about things not being great for a bit there.  I wonder if what I did or said actually damaged your relationships with other people and I wonder if you’ve been able to repair them.  “Wonder” isn’t really the right word, it’s more like I think about all that and hope that everything is okay with you.  I never stop thinking about all that, actually.  And I never stop wondering that if I had tried to talk to you months ago about the things that I’d bottled up for so long, we’d still be friends.  Maybe I would have found out what the underlying problem was and gotten help for it sooner.  I almost said something on New Year’s Eve.  Almost.  But I assumed that if I did say all the stuff I’d convinced myself was true, you’d not want to talk to me anymore.  Yet another way I screwed things up, I guess.

I’ve had plenty of time to find out more about this disorder and how it’s affected everything and I’ve rethought things that I assumed were reality.  The only thing I’m certain of is that I can’t trust my own brain or my own feelings most of the time.  I’m questioning EVERYTHING now.  Every single decision I’ve ever made is being dissected because I can’t be sure if I was really responding the way I wanted to or if I was “acting out.”  I have no idea.  Some things are obvious but others I can’t be sure of and I hate it.

I should have talked to you.  I should have trusted you.  I should have listened to you.  But I didn’t.  I hurt you and I hurt people you love and I lost you.

I’ve come so close to texting, emailing or messaging you so many times.  I replied to the email you sent me after I sent that stupid, wrong, and hurtful Facebook message and immediately after I hit “send” I blocked your email addresses so I wouldn’t have to face further consequences.  I was being a coward again.  I’ve unblocked your email addresses and unblocked you all on Facebook because it felt like hiding.  It was hiding.  I was trying to control your response, just like you said.  I was denying you the opportunity to say whatever you thought you needed to say and that’s just yet another example of me “acting out.”

People keep telling me that it’s the BPD that’s responsible for the way I’ve behaved and while that might be true, it doesn’t absolve me from accepting responsibility for it all and it doesn’t mean I get to walk all over you guys.  I completely understand why you don’t want me in your lives anymore.  That still doesn’t stop me from hoping that maybe you haven’t given up on me completely and that someday you might contact me.  I hate that little spark of hope.  But it’s there.  I want to kill it and stomp it into oblivion.

I’m trying to learn all I can about how to manage this disorder and in the process I’m just becoming more and more convinced that I’m pretty close to the lowest life form in the world.  You guys put up with so much from me.  I’m sorry.  I almost want to ask you guys for advice on how to put up with me because I don’t want to put up with me anymore.  I’m scared all the time.  I’m so scared that I’m going to hurt more people because I don’t know how to control this.  I’m getting help, sure, but I can’t be on disability forever and keep hiding.

Anyway, I’m just hoping that you’re well.  That you’re happy.  That your family is well and happy.  And I miss you.  There is not a second that goes by that I don’t miss you.  I’m so sorry for everything.  I’ll always love you and I’m sorry that I took you for granted.

Astrea

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