Praying that the Good continues…
In the past 3 days, I have had to face some embarrassing and humiliating truths about myself. I don’t know how long it will be before I can stop apologizing to my husband and to God.
But I do believe that some real good has come from my face-plant of ridiculousness. My husband and I have had some very productive conversations. I’ve seen myself in a couple of “snapshots” that are awful to view, but necessary if I ever want to stop the madness of my self-inflicted emotional injuries.
I know I’ve said this before, but, honestly, I cannot understand how any person with a more severe case of BPD makes it through a day. Borderlines are now on my prayer list because there is no way I’d still be alive is my case was more severe. So in spite of the irrationality of a BPD, the fact that so many fight to get through a day and make it is amazing and noteworthy.
I’m so thankful today is a holiday. It is needed for me. Taking a walk with my husband and hashing through feelings and memories with him is so good for me. I’m 99.9 % certain that he loves me. For a borderline, that’s as good as 110%. I’m 98% sure that my daughters love me. I know my grandkids love me because they’re still at the age where they would tell me if they didn’t. But they run to the door and scream, “Gigi!” when I show up and let me hug them and kiss them. That is such an incredible feeling. Why can I believe that I have the power to love them as much as I do outside of God’s love? That’s so stupid. God must love me so much more than I love them. Why is that so hard to believe?
I feel like the prodigal, standing in the middle of the road. My father has run to meet me, thrown his arms around my neck, covered me with kisses, called for a PAR-T to be thrown…and I’m still standing in the middle of the road saying, “I don’t believe you really mean that,” and believing that My Father doesn’t really mean it.
That’s the best definition of my borderline that I can give you.
I absolutely despise it.