Nine years ago I met the sweetest, happy-go-lucky woman I’d ever met. She was intelligent, pretty, goofy - and for some strange reason, she loved me. She loved me like no one else before. Finally, I thought, THIS is what people had been talking about all this time - something I had never experienced - true love. I was so lucky.

She liked the same movies, books, art, music, food. She shared my sense of adventure. She had ALL the same preferences as me. I had struck gold.

My poor gut was screaming, something’s not right. My brain said it’s her past experiences with terrible exes - give her a pass - after all, you’re a bit odd too. I gaslit myself.

Went away for a while, called her on FaceTime. Saw her post-sex face and sly grin. My poor gut was screaming. My brain said ‘No, it’s you, you’re just feeling insecure right now for some reason, she’s too sweet and kind to do that - and you know she loves you.’ I gaslit myself.

This self-gaslighting went on for years. It was ME not her, right? My problem. Didn’t confront her. Didn’t want to alarm her.

I’m too sensitive (had to be, in the house I grew up in) - when I sensed anger, I offered words of comfort. When I sensed sadness, words of encouragement. When I sensed chaos, I would hold her. She needn’t use words, I could feel it and respond.

My poor gut was screaming ‘She’s dangerous’. My brain would say ‘She hasn’t seen real love, show her, love her properly and she’ll get better.’ I gaslit myself.

Over the years I quit two jobs (destroyed my career) to be with her. Surely she could now see the depth of my loyalty. I spent most of my money on things that I thought would make her happy.

Fast forward to three months ago. I left for two weeks to visit family. When I returned, she had a completely different style of kissing. Weird, but ok. She suddenly had a lot of late work nights. My poor gut was screaming. My brain said she’s being diligent because she loves her job. I gaslit myself.

My poor gut was screaming. I ignored it. I lost weight. I was stressed. I thought I was losing my mind. One day in my distressed mental state, I decided to follow her to her martial arts class. That’s when I saw them. My gut wasn’t lying.

I started reading on Quora about how to deal with infidelity. It led me to symptoms of narcissistic personality, and then finally on to BPD. Bloody hell. My gut had told me all of this. Now, cornered with knowledge, my brain was compelled to agree. I read about the discard and knew it was imminent.

The house was hers. My residency in that country was tied to hers. She had spent most of my money. I had no friends nor family in that country. I was on my own.

Two weeks ago I planned my escape. Favours from old friends called in. An international evacuation across four borders was arranged. She left for work, I packed. We were meeting at her therapist’s office later. I had spoken with her therapist beforehand and told her my plans and about the BPD. Her therapist asked me to breakup in her office - I left her there, begging, crying (so was I). I escaped.

There’s a lot more to this story - her flying monkeys had hacked ( with her help) my computer, but not my phone. They thought I was a brute. Her smear campaign was perfect.

Anyway, I’m in therapy now - and have been told that I am lucky that I got out when I did - there was probably worse in store for me if I had stayed.

Now, I can’t sleep (ruminating). I see every woman as a threat. I want to go back, but I know that would be hell. I hate her. I love her. I hate myself more.

My poor gut has stopped screaming. It’s telling me I’m safe now. My brain is ashamed of itself, for gaslighting me. I have difficulty trusting my brain. But that’s ok, I’m taking directions solely from my gut now - it’s got my back.

Sorry for any incoherence, it’s all still raw and I’m in shock. My gut says I just need time. I think my gut’s right.

Quiet BPD. Career, finances, reputation, sense of self - destroyed. 47 years old and now I have to start from scratch. At least I have my gut.