Guys its been 4 years since I came out of the darkest period of my life. I was a major AFC, blue pill, genuinely good at heart kind of guy, but after my first BPD experience, I found myself in the rubble that was my then life, and somewhere while sifting through that rubble, I found red pill and sites like these who became a major online guru for me and helped me grow and become a man.
This is my first post on sosuave, I have been a lurker for more than 4 years now and I know sharing cluster B stories is like 2 war veterans sitting together and telling each other what they went through in a war. Nobody comes out whole in this one. Both understand each other in a manner that only they know. But some of us, come out battle hardened and want to aware others. Since my experience, I have also helped a close friend of mine, who was wrapped around the axle of an NPD and was beginning to become a shell of what he used to be. The first time I told him about personality disorders and read him out the symptoms, explaining in detail, he sat there dumbstruck and could not believe it. At first he swallowed that pill but then went into back and forth of truth and denial for months. Till he became sick of being treated like sh*t by his gf. I helped him recover and gave him some recovery books and other red pill books like rational male, book of pook etc. He too has come a long way. I really want to thank this site and all you guys here, I know a lot of you by your profile names, for helping me out indirectly in a major way. My life has improved a lot after taking the red pill.
Special thanks to a few guys here : Danger, Jophil28, kontroller-x, Die Hard, Bible belt. For people who are still recovering i really recommend going through all the material at shrink4men, so you can flush out all the denial out of you and go no-contact.
Anyways, I am from India (not in a part of the world where these things are well known) and below is my story. I first sent it to shrink4men in 2014, I am simply copy pasting it now for others to read. It is also on avoiceformen. This is my story and I was still very raw when I wrote it.
I have been a quiet lurker on Shrink4Men for past 1 year now. This site has helped me tremendously, so when an opportunity came where I could share my story with other users on this site, I couldn’t stop myself. Before I begin I want to clarify that English isn’t my first language. Please pardon me in case I make mistakes.
About me: I am from India , I grew up in the capital and am from what you would call as “lower middle class” , (I added “middle” as saving grace.) I love fixing things, I love helping people out, it gives me a sense of importance. I had a hard childhood, I grew up in a broken home, father was never around, but my mother helped me a lot. She ensured I got very good education. As I grew up I studied engineering. Logic and rational thinking have always been my strength. I also used to stutter as a child; hence I was an introverted teenager. In short, I had a hard childhood, fixing compulsions, rescuer tendencies, and a people pleaser — I was the perfect prey for a BPD girl and this is my story.
I don’t want to give her name here, so we will call her, “Ri”. I met Ri online. We chatted for a few months and then exchanged numbers. I loved talking to Ri. India is a mind bogglingly diverse country, language, accent and dialect change every 10 miles or so. I love this thing about my country. I am from a north Indian warrior clan, she was born in an east Indian trader community. We lived more than 1000 miles apart. We were in love before we saw each other. (Yes, I know). After knowing each other for months, Ri decided she would come to New Delhi for higher studies; meanwhile I had left my job to be in a business school close by her and take up an MBA degree.
The first time we met face to face. I was in love. I loved Ri. I loved everything about her. Her long black hair, her beautiful eyes, her voice, her east Indian accent, so I loved Ri and Ri loved me (or that’s what she used to say). The first few months were the honeymoon period. It was bliss. It was perfect.
How can someone love me so much? Me? Me, who had barely ever felt love from the outside world. I knew I would marry Ri. She meant the world to me. As the honeymoon period passed, I noticed a few unusual outbursts. I wrote them off as Ri being a bit on the sensitive side. The more I ignored the red flags, the more they grew worse.
In between, tragedy struck Ri and her family. Her father passed away. She hated her father. She would talk about him in such vile manner; I used to think of him as a horrible man. But when he passed away, Ri was in terrible grief. Every night Ri cried, I was there to console her. But no matter what I said, nothing stopped her. Her sorrow was like a bottomless pit and the way she would put it in words, it was so profound and so deep, I found it overwhelming.
As weeks passed, sorrow gave way to bickering and bickering led to daily arguments over things which were absolutely trivial in nature. Everything was always my fault. Then came a time period when fights became a daily thing. Ri was never physically violent toward me, but what she lacked in physical aggression she made up for in passive aggression, emotional manipulation, no win games and **** tests. She would say the cruelest things to me and yet pretend as if nothing happened and call me again tomorrow. I was the perfect white knight, I never fought back. How could I? Aren’t men supposed to be the silent rock?
Ri is a cutter. No matter how much I told her I loved her, she never stopped it. After every few weeks she would tell me, “last night I cut myself”. These weren’t tiny cuts; they went deep into her flesh. It never occurred to me she may be having psychological issues. Ri was exceptional at academics, just like me. She is a university topper and very well read. She is a high functioning kind. You can never win an argument against her.
Our relationship went from bad to worse. Honeymoon was over, that initial pink haze just disappeared and now I was taking a daily hit from her Fogger 3000 (F.O.G — Fear, Obligation and Guilt). Blame games, truth distortion, emotional reasoning — everything I said would be turned around and used against me.
Then the triangulation started. Enter downgrade future boyfriend. Ri found a drug abuser. The more I tried to keep her away from him, the more she went to him. She started from alcohol and went down to hardcore drugs. It became a daily thing and her behavior would become even more abusive. I found myself even censoring my own words, by now I wanted to say nothing at all, which could set her off.
Her name on my phone would scare me. I immersed myself in studies to distract myself from all the chaos. Ri shares everything with this drug addict. They talk dirty, they share facebook passwords, they spend all their free time together, while I am the sorrow of her life.
Ri would break up with me every week and then taks me back. My self-respect hit rock bottom and I didn’t have the wisdom left to ask myself why? My MBA finished and I found a job in another state. I had to leave Ri and move for a few months, until I could switch jobs and come back close to my hometown.
Ri’s core abandonment fear really came into play then. Ri cut me off. The other guy, he is her everything. He is what I once was. She worships him, while I am discarded. I must have done something to deserve this. May be she is right. May be I couldn’t understand her as she used to complain. May be I am insensitive and cruel. I left my home to start the job in another state.
(To be contd....)