#not only that but we literally met at the drink station as in full relapse of last sem when we also said hi there and hit it off

[thebigqueer]

literlaly terirble night last night

[if-u-seek-jamie]

A cry for help? No... I have the self control and I’m safe.  A cry for love and attention? Yeah, that sounds more like me lol I do way too much for attention.

This whole post is a major TW/CW for self-harm, depression, anxiety, BPD (and FPing), PTSD, mental illness, suicide, hospitalization, sex, sexual assault, abuse/intimate partner violence, trauma, substance abuse

I’m pouring my heart out and opening up more than I usually do on Facebook.  I’m feeling... desperately alone and misunderstood these days.  I basically am gonna spill everything going on in my brain EXCEPT for things that I am still ashamed of and keep secret.  LOL yeah, with everything I am comfortable being open talking about, I STILL have secrets.  Can you believe that?!  Me neither...  I’m also going to talk about some specific people in this post, as well, but as per my style of hiding/protecting identities, a lot of them are gonna be named “Bobbert,” “Bobbert 2,” “Bobbert 3,” etc., regardless of gender, because that is what I call everyone when hiding their identities.  There will also be names that I don’t protect, like Sara and Ivan, etc.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have pretty good self-control lately.  I don’t know, I don’t think I will actually hurt myself.  But wow, I keep getting the urge to.

Wow, I’ve barely posted anything but selfies on here in ages.  wh00ps.

I’m pretty open about the fact that I have mental illnesses on Facebook.  I’m an open book, everybody knows.  But I think I keep it kind of tame, and sometimes make jokes about it.  Like “lol I think I have a makeup addiction hahahaha can’t believe the people at Ulta don’t know who I am by now!”

It’s not a joke, though.  I have no idea how to cope with life.  I just.... overspend and overspend and overspend on makeup.  I go to Ulta just about every day if I don’t have the late shift at work, if I don’t have plans.  I’m just like “I need to get out of the house and makeup makes me feel pretty and makes me feel happy so I’m going to use that as an excuse to leave the house and go buy more.”  And I can’t stop.  And when I’m at home, I spend a good amount of time watching makeup videos on YouTube and reading through threads in Makeup groups on Facebook to come up with other products to buy.  I just cannot stop.

And eating.  I just keep overeating.  “I’ll save leftovers for lunch at work tomorrow.  hahahaha jk I’m gonna eat the whole thing now.  And then I’m gonna cook more food.  Midnight runs to the supermarket for some ice cream?  You bet!”  The binging is definitely real.  I’m glad I haven’t relapsed on the purging, though I get the urge.

I keep getting the urge to cut myself.  It has been over a year since I’ve done it and I hope I don’t give in.  But, oh my god, I have had the biggest urge to do that lately.  And I accidentally cut myself shaving last week while I was having these urges the most and that just made me want to do it more, but I also think it satisfied the urge at the same time?  I don’t even know.  I’ve also gotten the urge to get high but I refuse to ever let myself fall back down that hole.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I began high school, I was bitter.  I was very very bitter about the last couple years in my life.  These two girls...  We’ll call them Bobbert and Bobbert 2...  They bullied me relentlessly in middle school for being gay and fat.  It got so bad, I had to get the school’s police officer involved.  It was when I first felt suicidal.

And then that last summer before high school, I was the chosen target of my bunk at summer camp.  I was the chosen target of their bullying.  Why?  I have no idea.

So when I started high school?  I was bitter.  I’m not going to protect names this time.  I met this girl Audrey.  My instinct was to stay away from her because she looked like an angry person and she reeked of cigarette and marijuana smoke.  But we were assigned to be “phone buddies” in our literature class because everyone else was partnered up and we were the only two left.  And then she was in my gym class.  And somehow, we ended up becoming best friends.  I thought she was the coolest thing since sliced bread.  I really wanted to impress her, I really wanted her to like me and think I was cool.  She literally taught me what I should and should not like.  And she was... mean.  If you did’t agree with her on things, she would be mean to you about it... but it was always played off as a joke, and you had to laugh along with it, all the while seeking her approval.  But I thought that was admirable.  I thought it was so cool and badass and I wanted to be like that.  I became a meaner person when I was best friends with her.  And, a couple of my close friends know this, and it’s weird for me to admit on something that I am posting publicly...  But I eventually had convinced myself that I was in love with her.  She was my first BPD “favorite person.”  I was very codependent on her and I convinced myself that I was in love with her and I would do literally anything and everything to try to impress her or make her happy, or get her attention.

So when I went to her house and we met up with all her friends and they all decided to get high?  I wanted to try it.  And it was fun!  But after that?  Suddenly, every time I went to hang out with her, all she wanted to do was get high.  Every single time.  So I went with it.  I always just did whatever Audrey wanted to do.  And then she started hanging out with Alex (who she only became friends with because Alex and I were friends since like Kindergarten or first grade or something, but whatever).  Audrey and Alex had multiple classes together that year, and I had no classes with either of them.  So they grew closer with each other.  So then all three of us started hanging out together, and instead of just me and Audrey, it became me and Audrey and Alex.  And then we started doing harder drugs.  It got to the point when we were doing MDMA on a regular basis and my serotonin levels were shot because MDMA kills the serotonin in your brain.  I’d also steal medications from people, including morphine, which is a form of heroin.  Sometimes, we’d take pills even when we didn’t know what they were.  My brain was shot.  I was at the lowest I had ever been.  To top it off, Audrey and Alex were getting closer and closer and I was slowly but surely feeling shut out and neglected, like I didn’t matter.  One morning at school, I met up with Audrey and Alex and Audrey’s other friends in the morning before 1st block like we always did, and everyone stood in a circle and I was literally closed/blocked out of the circle, standing on the outside of the circle.  Ignored, unnoticed, neglected.  I decided that was the last straw, I lost it.  My FP didn’t give a FUCK about me.  All she fucking cared about was drugs and getting high and Alex.  But I was literally nothing in her eyes.  So I got home from school, and both my parents were at work and my brother was staying after school and my sister was away at college, and i was all alone.  So I grabbed a bottle of pills and chucked some down and I tried to kill myself because “She will notice me and care about me when I am dead.”  I was hospitalized.  When I came back home, I found out that nobody even noticed I was missing.  The only reason Audrey noticed - after a few days - was because my friend Jessica messaged her, “Do you know what happened to Jamie?  Didn’t you see her post on tumblr?  She took a bunch of pills and I don’t know what happened.”  When I got home, Audrey’s solution to my depression was just to get high.

Anyway, the reason I don’t protect Audrey or Alex’s names comes up now.

That summer was the first time I drank alcohol.  Like, yeah, I do all these drugs but I have never drank alcohol LOL go figure, right?  Anyway, we got our drug dealer, David...  he also had a fake ID so we got him to buy us alcohol.  And since he got the alcohol, we let him drink with us.  I’m drunk off my ass for the first time in my life.  David sees this “opportunity.”  He literally asks Audrey for her permission to take me off to a separate room and do whatever he pleases with me.  And she “consents” on my behalf.  So I’m laying there, 16, drunk, pants off, not really sure what’s going on.  And then I feel something rubbing against me.  And I guess I wasn’t as drunk as David hoped I would be.  Because I realized what he was doing.  And I flipped out.  I was not about to let him have sex with me.  He goes “Shh, shhh!  Stop freaking out or your friends are going to think something is happening!”  But I don’t really drop it so he gives up and we go back to join my “friends.”  Audrey literally gave me up to a rapist, and Alex was complicit in this.

That wasn’t the last time it happened.

A few months later....  It’s my 17th birthday.  I go to the zoo with my family, but then instead of going home with them after, they drop me off at Audrey’s house so I can have a “birthday sleepover” with my friends.  We smoke.  We take some pills that we don’t even know what they are.  We meet up with David again so that he can get us alcohol again.  This time, he’s got a couple friends with him... Jeff and Ivan.  Jeff was like 23 I think, Ivan was his older brother, so mid to late twenties.  This is my 17th birthday with these grown ass men.  We break into this gas station that either Jeff or Ivan worked at, and we party in there.  I’m smoking, I’m on pills, and I’m drinking.  3 substances mixed together in my blood.  I’m on cloud 9, I’m barely even mentally there.  Next thing you know, the guys decide to play spin the bottle.  The oldest one, Ivan... he lands on me at one point.  And he just goes at it.  Just full on making out with my barely conscious body.  I felt myself fading.  Next thing I know, he picks me up and carries me to the corner of the room, and next thing you know, my pants are off, and I feel myself fading and fading and I’m not really sure what’s happening.  Ivan asks me “Sex?”  I can barely speak, but I mutter out a “No!”  And he asks me again.  And I say “No!” again.  “Why?” he asks. “I don’t know!”  I can barely speak, I can barely move a muscle.  I feel myself leaving my body.  I have no control.  And he starts going down on me.  And next thing I know, I pass out and I’m unconscious.  And I wake up laying motionless and drooling, naked on top of this naked grown ass man.  I don’t know how I got there.  I start shaking.  Trying to move.  I find out that my dear friend Audrey just stood around drinking beers with David, watching this grown man rape me.

I tried to remain friends with them, but that only lasted another month.  Apparently after watching Ivan rape me on my birthday, Audrey and Alex decided to start telling all of their other friends that I was a sloppy slut and I just went and fucked this older guy, and they started saying horrible things about me every chance they got.  And I stopped being friends with them... and they played it off like “Good!  Now we can go to more parties and do more drugs because we couldn’t go before because nobody likes you!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Then there was Sara.  The only person I ever “fell in love” with who ever claimed to love me back.  My next MAJOR “Favorite Person.”  I met her at an event the first semester of my sophomore year of college/her freshman year.  We were sat at the same table at this event, and I could tell right away that she was gay.  She was so butch and obvious.  And DAMN, was she fucking CUTE.  It was the very end of the semester when I met her.  Then we were on Winter Break.  And she found me on Facebook somehow and added me, and started messaging me and flirting with me.  I thought she was so adorable.  She talked to me about Disney.  She asked me about my dog.  I found out that my dog was sick and dying in this time, and she asked me about it and was there for me and that really got me right away.  I was already head over heals because “this super cute girl thinks that I’m beautiful and cares about if I’m doing okay?!?!?!”

So then Spring semester started and we met up right away.  And the very first day we met up, we kissed.  And just a couple days later, she started coming to my suite every day and sleeping over.  She would bring cookie dough and treats for my suitemates and me.  She spoiled me right from the beginning and it felt GREAT.  Everything happened VERY QUICKLY.

The first night she slept over was unintentional.  We were just hanging out in my room.  My roommate had moved out because she got pregnant, so I had my own room.  We were cuddling.  And then she attempted to get sexual with me, but I was clearly nervous and hesitant, but she was very persistent.  And then she just ended up sleeping over and rushing to class in the morning.  She messaged me later in the day, apologizing for pressuring me into sexual activity; that she could see I wasn’t ready and she “felt bad” for pressuring me.  I said it was fine.

A couple days later, I was in my suite when I got a phone call from her.  She had vertigo and had to go to the ER.  All she wanted was to talk to me.  So I talked to her on the phone.  She came back to campus not too long later.  We were hanging out in my suite.  She said she had a club meeting to go to.  So I was like “Oh, okay, I also have a club meeting to go to.  I was on e-board for this club but I had to quit, but I was told they were doing something nice for me tonight so I have to go.”  And she was like “Okay.”  But then later she was mad.  “Why are you going to that club meeting?  I was in the hospital today.  All I wanted to do when I got back was to be with you and feel better.  All I could think about, all I wanted was you.”  And I said “But you were going to a club meeting, too?”  And she says “Well I was going to skip it because I wanted to be with you.”  “But I made a commitment.”  “Well I should be more important!!  I was testing you!!!”  “But you told me that it was okay if I go and you said you were going somewhere else anyway!”  “FINE!  Go!  But we’re done!”  Keep in mind we’re not even an official couple yet...  So anyway, I go to the club meeting anyway...  But all I can think about is how Sara is mad at me.  I’m having an anxiety attack.  I leave early, crying, texting and calling Sara and begging her to forgive me, I’m so so so sorry.  She eventually goes “You’re right.  You made a commitment and I told you I was going somewhere else anyway so it wasn’t fair for me to get mad at you.  I overreacted.”  And we were fine.  Or not really....  I should have taken this incident as a red flag, but I didn’t, I blamed myself.

Superbowl Sunday/Puppybowl Sunday that year was February 1st.  Apparently, at the Puppybowl Party, my friend Erica touched my thigh???  I don’t remember.  But according to Sara, it happened.  And I was no longer allowed to hang out with Erica without Sara’s permission.  “Sara, Erica doesn’t even like women!”  It didn’t matter.  She touched my thigh.  It meant she wanted me.  It meant she was a threat to Sara.  I wasn’t allowed to be her friend.

Sara wanted to wait until Valentine’s Day to ask me out officially.  She thought it would be cute if our anniversary was on Valentine’s Day.  I was NOT having it!  I didn’t want the holiday ruined forever if we ended up breaking up.  So Sara liked to joke around like “I’m breaking up with you!”  And I would keep pushing her by saying “You can’t break up with me if we’re not dating!”  And I kept pushing her and making it obvious that I was NOT happy with the waiting.  So on February 3rd, she caved in and asked me to be her girlfriend, and I was ECSTATIC.  I had a club meeting for Disney Club later that night.  I was on the e-board, so I was obligated to go.  Sara had work.  She texted me after her shift ended, she wanted to see me.  I was in the club meeting, so she had to come to the meeting.  She walks in the room and her face drops.  Erica is there.  Sara sits next to me angrily.  Her face is scaring the fuck out of me.  She’s clenching her fists.  She’s whispering nasty things to me.  She’s being so horrible to me.  Nobody notices.  I’m holding back tears.  After Disney Club meetings, everyone usually goes to Late Night Dining in the dining hall together, but Sara was ANGRY, so I told everyone I was gonna call it a night and Sara and I head back to my room.  Once we’re away from everyone else, she starts yelling at me.  “I told you not to hang out with her without me!”  “I can’t control who goes to the meetings!  I can’t tell her she’s not allowed to go, and I’m on e-board, I HAVE to be there!”  “Well you could have at least texted me and told me she was there!”  The yelling escalates and she’s screaming at me and I’m crying.  And then she very quickly stops and turns at me, and that was the first time she ever raised her fist to me.  The very first day we were “official.”

It got worse and worse every day after that, but I remember that one more than most of the others because it was the first time.  But every day after that...  She would find some reason to scream at me and insult me and throw punches towards my head.  Sex suddenly became rough sex and rough sex only, and no, she wouldn’t change it up because all of a sudden she “didn’t know how to have sex without being rough.”  I knew this was untrue because she wasn’t like that before.  But now, suddenly she was.  I had no choice.  There would be times when I wasn’t in the mood for sex, but to her that became all I was good for.  “I’m not in the mood.”  “I’ll put you in the mood.”  I would literally try to fight her and push her off of me.  My own girlfriend raped me.  So many times I lost count.  One time when she did it, I said “You just assaulted me.”  And she said “Fine, then I’ll never touch you again!”  And that was not what I wanted at all.  So then I just started taking it.  She would scream at me and throw punches at me and threaten to leave me at least three times a day.  I don’t even know how many times she raped me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Then there was Bobbert #3.  I loved him so much.  I still do.  He is still my FP, but we both handle it so much better now, and I’m not as attached as I used to be.

We had a relationship, but it wasn’t a *relationship.*  You see, he never loved me the way I loved him, and he never could.  He admittedly used me to experiment with his sexuality... and he tried to force himself to want me, but he couldn’t.

And he has opposite mental health issues from me.  We handle our mental health very differently.  I became exhausting for him to deal with...  He began to neglect me.  I started feeling worthless and unlovable and like I meant nothing.  Feelings were becoming similar to how I felt with Audrey, but nowhere near as bad.  But I did end up having meaningless sex with someone else when I felt lonely one night (it wasn’t cheating; we weren’t monogomous or in a *relationship relationship,* ya feel?).  Bobbert #4, I guess?  And Bobbert #4 disgusted me and violated my boundaries, and I went with it to try to fill this neglected void, but I just fell into another deep depression.  But I stayed with Bobbert #3.  All I wanted in my life was for Bobbert #3 to love me.  I kept feeling neglected.  I eventually had a mental breakdown and tied a noose in my closet, and the breakdown got worse when I realized the material wasn’t strong enough and wouldn’t work.  Bobbert #3 and my other suitemate found me crying in my closet.  They got together with someone else and reported me to counseling services and I was so angry.

And I was just in this great depression from my PTSD from being with Sara and my obsession with Bobbert #3 and I failed all my classes that semester and didn’t graduate school on time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A month or two later, I was finally diagnosed with BPD and everything started to make sense and I have been able to learn when I’m being irrational or splitting, I haven’t engaged in self-harm behaviors since then, I have been able to pin-point and control my symptoms and I’m doing so much better with self-control but the thoughts and feelings I have are still real and I don’t know if they will ever be normal, but I haven’t gotten a new FP since the last story so who knows, tbh....  I’d like to think that I will be able to figure out how to love and be loved back, and I’d like to think that I will be treated right one day, and that I will have a non-toxic relationship one day.  I don’t know if it is possible, but I’d like to think it is.  I mostly blame like everyone else in my life.  My therapist blames certain family members of mine and things from my childhood, but I don’t feel comfortable writing about that.  BUT, while it feels good to be able to say “Hey, I was never the bad person in these situations!” I still know I can’t deny any responsibility.  Right?  I mean, maybe?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few friends already know this story and know exactly who I am talking about even though I’m concealing the name for the sake of this post so if any of you actually read this far, for the sake of this post, his name is Bobbert.

Some background info: 1) In my friend group(s), I am the most vocally sex-positive person of the group, and the least innocent friend. 2) In the past when I have had random hookups with people I didn’t love, it ended with me crying and self-harming and ultimately falling into a deep depression.

So back in April, my friend Bobbert randomly hit me up on Facebook messenger to ask me to “hook up” with him.

This was a man who...  I had ultimately *convinced* myself I had a crush on him because he liked to give me hugs and cuddles, and although he liked to do that with all of his friends, it seemed more excessive with me.  And so I felt special, so I convinced myself that I HAD to like him because he gave me attention because LOL me being me, I don’t know how to differentiate touchy-feely-attention from true feelings.

But I also never thought he would pull such a douchebag move.  To just be like “sooo you wanna hook up?”  He never seemed like the type of guy to do that.  I mean, just a few days before he asked me this, I could have sworn he was dry-humping me while we were cuddling- IN FRONT OF OUR FRIENDS- but I convinced myself that I was imagining that because he certainly wouldn’t do something like that without saying anything first, and CERTAINLY not IN FRONT OF OUR FRIENDS.  So I brushed it off.  But I still had a feeling that there was some tension between us of some sort, and I figured something would happen between us eventually.  But I did not expect it to be done so disrespectfully.  I thought whatever was going on would come up naturally, in a respectful manner, in person...  Not “do you wanna hook up?” over Facebook messenger.

My initial reaction was that, as the only vocally sex-positive and least innocent friend of the friend group, I was being objectified by my friend.  My heart honestly sank as I realized that I didn’t mean anything more than a body to this person who I considered a friend.  That I was being treated as an object.  After everything all of my friends know I’ve been through, and with all of my friends being fully aware that I have BPD and RAD.  I just felt like everything was becoming clear, and I am worthless, disposable...  I am an object that does not have feelings.  In addition, because I am prone to self-harming after meaningless sex, I wanted to try this thing where I *don’t* hook up with people that I am not in a relationship with.

So anyway, I eventually answered him and said “ummmmm I don’t really hook up with people like that...”  And he was like “omg I’m so sorry I made this awkward blah blah blah.”

Anyway, I was like 45 min away from home when this happened, and I was with friends...  So at the end of the night, I took the 45 minute drive to think and reflect and when I got home, I messaged him again and I was like “Listen...  I was flustered when you messaged me because I was at this club meeting...  I have noticed there has been some tension between us, I would be lying if I said otherwise, I think we need to have a discussion.”  So then the next morning, Bobbert reads my message, but doesn’t message me back for a few hours and when he does he’s deflecting like “oh sorry I was just sleep deprived and loopy, I don’t want to complicate our friendship in any way....”  biiiiitch, you already complicated our fucking friendship.  So I’m not taking his bullshit, I’m like “nah but we still need to talk.”  Again, he reads my message and waits A COUPLE HOURS to respond and he just says “yeah you’re probably right.”  So anyway, this goes back and forth with him leaving me on “read” over and over again and I’m feeling more and more disrespected and angrier and angrier the longer he keeps me waiting.  But eventually we agree to meet up for dinner a couple days later so we can talk.

So we meet up... and I’m pretty good at standing my ground at first.  He’s kind of derailing, avoiding the subject, and I’m like “Bobbert.”  So eventually he’s like “Jamie....  I would be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to you....  But I’m not wanting to date anyone while I’m in grad school.�� And I’m like “Okay....”  And I just basically tell him I’m not attracted to him at all.  Even though I had just a week earlier been convinced I had a crush?  I don’t know, And anyway, he’s like “So I’m sexually attracted to you but not romantically, like, at all.” Like, ok Bobbert, then why did you bring up dating half a minute ago when you said you’re not ready to date while you’re in school?  Like if you already decided you didn’t wanna date at all, why did you bring that up in the first place.  Are you deflecting or are you just that dumb and heartless or? So I’m basically just like “ok.” & he’s like “So we’re on the same page?  Not romantically interested in each other at all?” & I’m like “Not at all.”  Whatever. So then it’s my turn to talk  I wanted to make him realize why the way he objectified me after all my experiences with sexual violence and dating violence was an issue.  I wanted him to realize that trying to build up intimacy with me just for sex, knowing that I have BPD and attachment issues, was extremely disrespectful of my well-being.  But then I realized that I didn’t really want to talk about my history of sexual assault and domestic violence and mental illness in the middle of a crowded restaurant.

So we went back to my house to talk somewhere more privately.  I set clear boundaries.  I explained to him why I was offended and hurt.  I explained to him that I have trouble saying no to people because I really really love attention, and he was giving me a lot of attention.  I asked “Do you respect me?” and he said “Yes.”  I believed him and boundaries were set.  But then two seconds later, he cuddles up to me.  And then he starts groping me.  And I say, “Ummm... what’s going on?”  & he’s like “I’m cuddling you... sexually...  Is that okay?”  And because he had just told me he respected me, and I felt like we just had a respectful discussion, I was like “Yeah I guess.”  And one thing led to another, and even though I had set boundaries, we somehow ended up hooking up anyway??????  I was not enjoying any second of it.  I even told him “I am not enjoying this.  At all.  This is never happening ever again.”

And then we didn’t see each other again for almost 2 months???  I really want to remain his friend.  I don’t know how possible it is.

We went to Six Flags together a couple weeks ago.  And then things got a little too flirty again.  And ya know what?  A lot of that was my fault.  I instigated and initiated a lot of that.  There was excessive hand holding and hugs and cuddles and hands on thighs.  And a lot of that was MY fault.

I just tell this story to show how vulnerable I am right now, how desperately I desire and crave love and affection and attention.  I literally cannot resist it.  Even when I know I’m just hurting myself...  I will engage.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anyway, I kind of just hate myself.  I think that I am too much to deal with.  I will never be loved and I don’t deserve to be loved and I am meant to be lonely forever.  And I try and try and try but I’m only 23 years old and I’ve already dealt with so much abuse and assault, I’ve lost count.  These weren’t even all of the stories, either...  Just what is the point of life anymore when I’ve gone through all this?  I’ve gone through enough personal trauma to last 3 lifetimes, and I’m not even 25 years old yet.  This is just SOME of the stuff I have to battle with every day.  Just a little glimpse.  I just don’t understand why me...