Why I'm probably forever alone...

 ...and why I'm convincing myself to be happy with that.

(This isn't the reason I'm probably forever alone!)

I'm attractive. It's no lie, and there's no point in being modest about it because modesty's just a bullshit way of saying "I need to feed my ego so  I'm going to do it in a way where I pretend to be nice even though I know the truth, and you know the truth, yet we're both going to sit here and pretend neither of us know the truth." I've actually completely forgotten what I was speaking about. Ah, yes, fatal attraction. We all think with our penises and vaginas even though we all know we shouldn't. Literally every single time I go outside of my house (even when I'm inside and certain people are here) I either get the "eye rape" or someone tries to make a pass at me. If any of those people used their head to actually get to know me then they wouldn't want to know me. It's a fact.

So, what has this got to do with me being forever alone? I'm a recently diagnosed borderline, and by I mean I only found out about it just less than two months ago - this is approx. three months after the end my breakdown during which I worked as a call girl/courtesan/whathaveyou. Unlike my other mental illnesses I'm taking this one slow because it's so much more serious and it scares me when I read about it. I mean, with all my other illnesses I spent hours on end just reading and reading and reading and researching and Googling and Redditing and Pinteresting just to find out more. I would stay up for hours at night and I remember some nights I didn't go to sleep at all until 7 or 8am the next because all I wanted to do was know more and more and more, I was like a sponge, ready to implode with so much information. With this BPD none of that is happening. In fact, I don't read enough about it that every other week I forget the symptoms and forget what it's about and I have to Google it again just to find out again that I have it. Could this be repression at work?

Anyway, getting back on point, I'm forever alone. I'm mentally and emotionally repulsive and for this reason alone I just can't allow myself to let someone near me because I don't want to be a burden on them. No one deserves to deal with this shit. Don't get me wrong, if anyone asks me something along the lines of "what's the one thing you want so much that you'd sacrifice everything for it?" and they wouldn't accept any of my sarcy answers then I can't imagine myself saying anything other than "a relationship where I feel safe and protected." But that's only a dream, and definitely one that I can't let happen.

If you Google "BPD symptoms" you'll find the curse that is "chronic feelings of emptiness". That's exactly what comes into play on here. Before the breakdown, when my lovely boyfriend started ignoring me and when I started realising that this was his cowardly way of breaking up with me, that feeling of emptiness came back so fast that it was almost like the adrenaline rush of a slow, suffocating death. Whenever I tried to describe it, I'd say it was "chronic loneliness" but literally two minutes ago, when I saw the words "chronic feelings of emptiness" I realised that that loneliness I was describing may actually have been emptiness.

After my family, my boyfriend was the best damn thing to happen to me. When he pulled the trigger and tried to inadvertently break up with me, I still couldn't help but think he's the best thing to happen even though what he did instigated everything I put myself through. I'm pretty sure I've moved on from him now but still, all I crave is the happiness he brought. I was left so vulnerable when he left, I'm supposed to hate him. If he hadn't broken up with me then I wouldn't have had that breakdown and I wouldn't have become a call girl. I don't hate him. I want to hate him, I want to feel a strong desire to choke him with my bare hands, but I don't. I certainly think he's a dickhead and coward for dealing with our relationship in the way that he dealt with it, but for some reason that I seem to be completely ignorant to, I forgive him. I know he didn't cause all the things that happened to me - I did that - but he was the trigger, he doesn't know it and he didn't do it on purpose and so I guess that's why I forgive him. If it wasn't him, it could've been anyone else, right? When I was with him I told him these exact words: "you make me happy", and coming from me that meant so much more than "I love you". Did I really love him? Or was it just a deeply rooted desire to "love" i.e. an "attachment" of some kind?

One question I come across a lot is "is it possible for people with BPD to love?" and in my case, I honesly don't know. When I was with my ex I thought I loved him, but what the hell is "love"? I was definitely attached to him because I thought he'd keep me safe, but was that attachment "love"?