Trigger. Not Just The Lone Rangers Horse

Well I knew that it was going to happen sooner rather than later. I just didn’t know when. Living with Borderline Personality Disorder, one is ALWAYS waiting for the other shoe to drop. Right on our fucking heads. The good times are amazing, the bad times I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy (well maybe that bitch that fucked my husband six weeks before we were married), I wish that shit squared on that whore. Along with Ebola, SARS, Malaria, Meningitis, Equine Encephalitis, Mad Cow Disease, Chronic Wasting Disease, Swine Flu, Bubonic Plague, HPV, HIV, Chlamydia, Gonorrhea, Syphilis, UTI, Renal Failure, blindness, deafness, muteness, Leprosy, Legionnaires Disease and the absolute worst case of dysentery there ever was. I pray for this vile creature to come down with EVERY single one of them EVERY night. I’m already going to hell for my own shitty past so at this point praying for someone like this slut to suffer so greatly will not impact my immortal soul any more than it’s already impacted. Go big or go home is my motto.

Obviously I’ve triggered. No matter what I trigger over this horrific part of my life ALWAYS gets thrown in for good measure by myself.

I’m not sure if my trigger was the upcoming holidays, having two extra “guests” in our 800 square foot condo, or if it was the fact that my husband was exhausted from work, in a shitty mood and said some (in my opinion) awful shit that Daddy Dearest used to say to me. I completely fucking lost it though. Every single time, I think I’m making progress, that giant shoe drops and shows me who’s boss…..and my boss is BPD.

FML😏😏😏

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The Sheeple Apocalypse

As I was channel surfing through what seemed like an obscene amount of cable TV channels (I’m a reader, TV blows), I could not help but notice the horrific number of IQ lowering reality shows. In my opinion, the absolute worst of the worst celebrates some slut who’s only original claim to fame was fucking a semi-celebrity’s wannabe singers brother and videotaping it for posterity and having…….wait for it……her money and fame hungry whore of a mother leak it to the press for publicity. Eeeeeeewwwww much?!? No wonder your husband had his dick chopped off and started wearing your panties, Kris.
As stomach churning as this is, it’s not even the thing that makes the vomit creep up to the tip top of the back of my throat. The thing that makes the vomit come so perilously close to projectiling like pea soup as my head spins ALL 360 degrees around atop my shoulders is that enough mindless, soulless, impressionable minions and brainwashed keyboard soldiers have bought into this shit to keep this family of fancy gutter sluts on television for 15 seasons. Yes, you read that correctly. Now excuse me while I go eat a Tide Pod, smoke some fucking potpourri, snort some bath salt and wait for the Sheeple Apocalypse.

Yoga Pants: A Blessing or a Curse

Ahhhhh, the almighty yoga pants. What can I say, I’ve owned and worn hundreds of different pairs in hundreds of different sizes. I like to think of them as my pajama clothes, because most of the time my Fibromyalgia won’t allow any other material to get near my skin. EVERYONE loves a pair of yoga pants, therein lies the problem….as my dear old Gran used to say, “Just because it comes in your size doesn’t mean you should wear it.” Boy was that woman on fleek about that subject.

I’ve been small, I’ve been large and every size in between, and the most difficult decision a woman will ever have to make is deciding that her yoga pants are just NOT flattering anymore and that the time has come to move on to sweatpants.

Now I know you young hot bodied thangs think for the most part that yoga pants are God’s gift to mankind, but let me let you in on a little secret, sisters, camel toes are not flattering on anyone. Ever. Period.

For Pete’s sake will someone feed that thing, it’s so hungry it’s eating her yoga pants!!

Thank you my pretties for listening to my rant for the day😂

TTFN💕💕💕💕

My Story: The First Violent BPD Trigger

My FP who also happens to be my beloved husband and I have not always had it easy. Between my undiagnosed BPD and crazy exes, we had our hands full.

One of the main reasons I fell so madly, deeply, head over heels in love with him is because he is so kind and gentle and above all genuine. He told me that he loathed men that cheated on their significant others.  I think his exact words were that they were the scum of the Earth. So having the rug yanked cruelly out from under my feet THREE weeks before our wedding fucked me up. More than I’ve ever been in my entire life, and my life has been far, far from a bed of roses to begin with.

Three weeks to the day before we were to become husband and wife, he sat me down and told me he had been having a year long affair with his co-worker. Said co-worker being the kind of whore who constantly throws herself at her latest victim in her quest to suck and or blow her way up the corporate ladder. This bitch is a predator through and through. She sensed a vulnerable moment in my then fiancé, and she pounced again and again and again.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never held my husband completely blameless. No matter what the excuse, what he did was not a mistake. It was a choice, but I digress. By the time this whore had her claws sunk firmly into my husband to be, she strung him along for months and months because she is somehow related to his boss and threatened his job if he blew her off.

Deep down I think I knew, but I didn’t want to believe my gut at the time. I was blinded by love.  Before he confessed I couldn’t even wrap my mind around the idea of him doing something so despicable and painful to me. That betrayal was the most pain I’ve ever experienced in my whole life. I lost 40 pounds, I prayed to Jesus for death to take away the mind numbing pain. Obviously Jesus had other plans for me….I’m still trying to figure out what they are. I internalized this pain for about six months and out of nowhere I lost my shit. By losing my shit I mean I grabbed the steering wheel while my husband was driving 70 miles per hour on the interstate, almost sending us careening down an embankment, threw the car in park while he was driving 5 times, and tried to jump out 3 times. After it was all over I barely remembered a thing. I was in a dark swirling fog and my mind couldn’t process anything for at least the rest of the day. My husband insisted on a psychiatrist appointment for the following day and fortunately someone had canceled and I was able to get in to see him.

The next day with my husband by my side we went to the appointment. Within 20 minutes of hearing about the horrific day prior and other behaviors I was exhibiting that were concerning my husband, I had a diagnosis. Borderline Personality Disorder. That was such a huge pill for me to swallow but it explained so very much. As it turns out, the former affair partner whore, Mary Ann and my Daddy Fucking Dearest are my main triggers….it doesn’t help that that white trash skank still works with my husband reminding him and myself of our darkest hours as man and wife or that my narcissistic, abusive father still goes out of his way to make me feel like a worthless piece of shit.

My husband and I have always had a soul deep connection and unbreakable bond and that’s what pulled us through his horrific betrayal to the other side, and I was able to forgive him and our relationship has forged an even deeper bond by getting through something so traumatic.

I can’t say I’ve forgiven Mary Ann, because I have not….I know as a Christian I should but the Borderline in me wants to drag her into the street and beat her ass until her mother has a hard time recognizing her. I’m a civil, middle aged woman with morals and manners but when it comes to this bitch my BPD makes me feel primal. I personally think that she’d have a hard time sucking her way up the corporate ladder and destroying another family’s happiness with her jaw wired shut for 6 to 8 weeks. This is my story and I’m sticking to it.

#BPD, #BorderlinePersonalityDisorder, #relationships, #marriage, #cheating, #betrayal, #theotherwoman, #whore