“No one loves you” a voice in my head says. This sentence has repeated in my mind since I was 6. I thought back to it recently when I was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder. Searching for the root of it in a pile of unfair circumstances I was dealt in childhood. A needle in a haystack. The answer was not what I expected. You could do no wrong in my eyes, your words were facts, you were all that I knew, and I loved you unconditionally, I still do. To find the cause I had to ask myself when was the first time the voice said “no one loves you”? We were sitting in your minivan outside of the jewel osco, I was 6. You struck me across my face and tossed me by my hair, then you left me in the car to cry. Your love disappeared from my mind the moment your palm struck my cheek. I felt betrayed. I sat feeling the pain in my body, as it spread to my mind. The thought of you not loving me hurt more than the hitting. It was unbearable. I needed relief. I grabbed your chiffon scarf and strangled myself for the first time as you grocery-shopped. The tighter I squeezed, the more relief I felt from the unbearable hurt in my chest. I stopped crying and acted like nothing happened when you returned, I needed to appease you and regain your love. You never said sorry, I pushed you to that point you said. How could I express my hurt to you when it was my fault that you lost your temper? i deserved it. I was silly for feeling hurt by something that I caused. So I learned to turn it inward. Maybe so that I could still believe that you loved me? I find myself repeating this pattern in my relationships to this day. I will do anything to earn the love of those who hurt me. It’s a never-ending chase to try and prove to myself that I am lovable.
A veces no es paranoia, simplemente son los traumas que permanecen vivos dentro de tí