Today’s kaftan is from NYC guru. My friend Chloe gave it to me. When I opened the package I cut into the material and couldn’t easily fix it, so I put this Georg Jensen brooch on the tear. it’s 2 dolphins. It was my grandmother‘s, but my dad is the one who gave it to her. She loved Jensen. Her silverware was all Jensen. I’m having a difficult time managing my BPD right now. The thing is that I don’t really want help. I’ve been in therapy. I paid a coach $5000 to help me write and create. But I’m angry and resentful and I have to work on getting myself out of this place. It’s a challenge. Some days are good. Some are even great. But others are dark and full of doom. The BPD black and white thinking is a cloud over my head. You’re good. You’re bad. I am both. a year ago I got dumped by yet another boyfriend. They’ve all dumped me. I never want to leave, no matter how bad it gets. I beg to stay. I beg for another chance. I even tell them I’ll continue to be intimate with them. Or worse, I’ll try to find them another partner so they’ll keep me in their life. That didn’t work either, although the girlfriend I found him has worked out. a year ago, I made a big mistake. I said the wrong thing in front of his mother. He had asked me not to, but I couldn’t stop myself. It was familiar. It was messy. I thought it would be ok. I thought he was different. I thought we were different. We were not. It was the same as before. It was me against the mother. It always is. And I never win. How can I? We came home and he told me it was over. I was in shock. Maybe he would change his mind? How could he want to leave? But he did want to. Instead he suggested that we take acid. It was in my apartment. We had gotten it from someone a few weeks earlier and had planned to take it together. But I never thought we would take it in that situation. I could have said no. I could have said a lot of things. But I wanted the pain to go away. I thought the acid would help me feel better. I was so wrong. I’d never taken it before. I didn’t do my research even though my best friend had sent me a book on psychedelics. I wasn’t prepared. I don’t know how much he gave me or how much he took. He took more than me. The hallucinations began. Colors moving around the room. I cried. We danced. When he tried to kiss me, I felt disgusted. I don’t know why. Something was different. I thought about my boyfriend before him. I was still carrying a lot of that pain. I had pain on top of pain and it was heavy. after 4 hours I wanted to rest. But the drug doesn’t give a shit. It keeps going. That’s when my ex began to break down. I didn’t understand what was happening. It was quick. He stopped making sense. He wet himself. On my bed. I remember being grossed out but not having the ability to do anything. I wanted to help him but I didn’t know how. He started yelling. He got violent. I was scared. So I told him to just kill me. I didn’t want to live anymore. everything felt like a huge mistake. How would I recover from this? Sometimes I wish he had killed me that night. But instead he just pushed me a little. And then he fell straight back onto the floor. i was having a hard time deciphering what was real and what wasn’t. It was a similar feeling when I took ayahuasca a month ago. Everything got blurry and I just wanted it to stop. I wanted to feel better. But I had to get help. I called 9-11 and asked them to hurry. When they arrived my ex was in his underwear, yelling in the hallway of my building at 1:30am. I had also called his twin brother, but he hadn’t gotten to us yet. Neighbors were poking their heads out. My own head hurt because he had pulled out some of my hair. My face was red and blotchy. I just wanted to go to sleep. But instead they made us go in separate ambulances to different hospitals. He wasn’t even wearing shoes. Or pants. I didn’t know what would happen to either of us. to be continued tomorrow…