Look, I have Borderline Personality Disorder. I tell people that I have depression and that I have PTSD (I do have these both), but the real trap, the real me, lays within BPD. How can I be truthful about this to people who come into my life? How can I ask others to be “ok” with my random flipping switches – hot and passionate to cold and distant, in love to out of touch, kind to dead inside…all without a single warning? Even to myself.

I have lost a lot of people, rarely have I lost any to BPD…just two. Only two. The two people in my life that I truly loved. Funny in a way that they harbored the same type of personality of each other.

But here on my lonely and desolate island, as alone as I feel, I realized that there has always been one single person within arms reach. He didn’t have to say it, I didn’t have to tell him. He was and is smart enough to see the real me. The sick person that I am. And in return, I saw and see the sick person that he is. The best part is that we are not truly sick at all. We are successful, and smart, witty, and caring. We put others before ourselves and live to love those who society deemed not worthy of love. Society is the sick one. We are both…rather well. He compliments my strengths and fills in my blind spots and I try to do the same for him.

This man is my best friend. I claim he is my parabatai. He claims that he is independent of me. We can agree to disagree. But, I can’t help but feel that our bond transcends friendship, a relationship, or soul mates. I both hate and love him at the same time. Where my love for…Jo-…and Bi-…were a deep seated romantic love, and it pains my heart to even type their names…this love for my best friend is completely different. It’s something I have never felt with anyone else. It’s not even felt in the heart. It’s felt in the gut. It’s more than love. It’s unbreakable whatever it is. And I appreciate him.