Worse: It was her one and only girlfriend ever.
I think pressure caused me to feel desperate to find a girlfriend. I had finally moved into my first apartment, so I had all this freedom finally, but I also had some people “joking” with me that I wasn’t a “real lesbian” if I didn’t have a girlfriend. Like, it’s fine if you don’t think lesbians should be lesbians, but don’t force attraction to all genders on everyone.
I also kept getting criticism because I had had boyfriends before, even though no one knew what my relationships with those guys had been like. I’ve only ever kissed a guy once, and I didn’t even want to at that time.
There was always one specific boundary I had because of my mother.
My mother is not someone I think of often, but of all the boundaries I could ever have — and this is hella taboo — I will not pursue a relationship with someone who has bipolar disorder. My own experience being raised by someone with bipolar disorder, regardless of the situation, has resulted in the disorder itself being a trigger for my PTSD.
I simply have zero tolerance, as it put a damper on my entire upbringing and continues to put it on my well-being.
I’m well aware how high the highs can be and how low the lows can be.
Mental health affects everyone in different ways. This isn’t to generalize everyone with bipolar disorder, but my experience with people who have the disorder has always only resulted in toxicity that I simply do not have the capacity for.
And yet…I felt as though I should ignore that boundary, because why not? I needed to be more open-minded, give her a chance because we were getting along so well — because if I don’t, aren’t I super judgmental?
My issue is very much that my mother used me the most during her manic states, and the worst part was that I could never tell at the time which was the real her and which was “bipolar” her. Because everyone told me that I needed to understand that there was my mother, and then there was the bipolar; they told me I needed to ignore the cruel, unloving parts of my mother.
But there were no kind, loving parts of my mother.
I ignored that boundary, and fell deep in the bullshit.
The highs are high. They feel amazing, especially when you’re the center of it. It’s amazing. So why didn’t I notice the fucking pattern? Because this woman I’d matched with started saying shit that fit into the pattern of mania, and I just…fucking ignored it all.
She was really interested in my DID because of a comic character named Crazy Jane.
Not only did I have the same name as the character, but I also have dissociative identity disorder! So?? Isn’t that amazing??
Because at the end of the day, the fictional version of DID is not as amazing as the real-life experience.
She fucked my whole system up.
Dormant alters came out, and it was as bad as back in 2012. The original primary host (not to be mistaken for the “original alter”, as there is no original), who is also the legal name of the body, came out, and everything was disastrous and messy and altogether awful.
I daresay we split, but I don’t know where that alter is so~
Those three months last year are really fuzzy. I remember:
- Dissociating over nail polish colors
- Lots of rapid switching, which is super exhausting and generally unhealthy
- Eating less and less
- Lowering our standards, values, morals, etc. for someone who did not actually like us
- She decided to steal her ex-girlfriend’s dogs and spicy toys
- She kept asking for permission to do shit (like moving somewhere??) when we weren’t even a thing
We spent a lot of time towards the end wondering if we were just part of a manic episode.
Random blocking behaviors and ghosting are ridiculously childish. Ghosting in and of itself shows emotional immaturity and displays the person’s inability to communicate effectively. I hate how acceptable it’s become, but it also illustrates how a person who presented themselves as confident, cool and good at communication simply isn’t. Falling out of touch with people happens; people get distracted, no big.
Her ghosting me ultimately had me reflecting on the entirety of the relationship: I was very likely part of a manic episode, she was very much a coward, and she displayed an overall lack of emotional maturity. I don’t care for the shitting on your ex games, where you make their lives miserable because you’re so salty. I don’t do the whole stick-around-for-whatever-happens-because-I-might-be-ready-later bullshit. You’re not ready for a relationship? Bye. That’s it. I don’t play games.
It made me realize that both she and her ex likely caused the demise of their relationship, thanks to pandemic lockdowns. Sooo many couples broke up and fought because suddenly they actually had to spend time together.
Things we learned
- We don’t have to use DID like a parlor trick to impress people who are fascinated by dissociative identity disorder, especially at the risk of our well-being.
- Nail polish colors can be dissociating.
- Not dating someone with bipolar disorder is a definite boundary not to be dismissed.
- Hard passes:
- People still living with their exes
- People who don’t know what they want and say they aren’t ready for a relationship, regardless of “whatever happens, happens”
- People who do not understand autism/are dismissive of my autism
- Life is easier single. Like, much easier.
- All we really need is a cat. But do I have a crush on her vet? Yes. 🤦♀️
+ lots of fodder for writing books 😏
There is one more piece of my “Single Lesbian” story series, but I don’t feel like telling it and don’t know if I will tell it anytime soon. I wanted to share my experience on matchmaking apps, but it takes a lot out of me emotionally to write and requires me to go through the memory library — which is super triggering and hella exhausting.
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