u/EveningLook1826

My bf has BPD and for a while now, he’s been avoiding letting me follow him on Instagram or any social media. My account was private for some time, and he got upset about it. I accepted it, and then he started controlling who I follow, making me delete almost everyone. Honestly, I didn’t even care. I preferred to just keep family there.

I feel like he’s acting suspicious, but I’m not 100% sure.

That’s not all. This past month, he told me his phone got stolen and that one of his brothers was lending him a temporary one so he could keep working for Uber.

A few days later, I started sending him videos on Instagram, and he told me to send them on WhatsApp instead. I told him I thought he didn’t have it anymore since it got stolen. But he said he still has the same phone number. Is that even possible?

I’ve also seen women showing up in my suggested/recommended feed, so I checked their followers, and he was following them. Then he unfollows them… I honestly don’t know what to think anymore.

He’s also pulled away and told me I should move on with my life, not to wait for him, that he needs to leave and delete his social media.

Less than two days ago, he texted me while drunk, and it sounded like he was crying. For a second, I thought he got rejected by someone… and that’s why he was like that. I don’t know why. But the next day, his Instagram account was gone. My mom reached out to him on WhatsApp, and we got a bit of closure. But I’m still worried.

PS: When we talked, he seemed really mature and determined, like he does want something with me but needs to work on himself first to make it work. He’s always told me there’s no one else. But when he’s irrational or chaotic, he mentions other girls or compares me to them or to his ex. His ex isn’t around anymore because she realized he was too crazy. But I don’t know… maybe there’s someone new? I can’t think clearly, and I can’t even think badly of him, even if I had proof. He always seemed way too obsessed with me up until the last minute. Any advice?

NOTE: dear mods ,

I posted this in English but I think when I edited it, it got switched back to another language. I’m really sorry — I want to believe it’s still published in English since I copied and pasted it from the translator.

How do I let go when death feels like its following me?

NOTE: I don't speak English, I had to use a translator, so if you have any questions or anything, ask me because translators are usually terrible.

This is currently a draft I had in my notes. It hasn’t been edited or cleaned up, so it might be messy, raw, and hard to read.

Note: Long-distance relationship. M26 BPD / F22
This is me venting. Please be kind.

I met this person with BPD when I was just 19. I’m 22 now. He’s 26.
He told me about his disorder the moment we started talking. I didn’t think twice about it. At 19, I was blind to the red flags—or maybe I chose to be—even though he basically handed them to me on a silver platter.
Back then, when he told me he had BPD, he also showed me his paperwork and the psych records from when he tried to end his life. He admitted he almost never took his meds. He numbed himself with clonazepam, and when that wasn’t enough, with alcohol. A lot of alcohol.

He made me feel like we were soulmates. I still think we are.
Then one day, he panicked. The moment things started feeling real—family, a home, kids, marriage—he vanished. Blocked me everywhere. I still can’t wrap my head around it. His love felt so pure, so real, so all-in. And I still believe it was.

I started breaking down when he’d disappear for days without a word, refusing to tell me what we even were. He knew about my abandonment issues. He knew how obsessively, desperately I loved. And it destroyed me that he could leave me overnight like I was nothing, after whispering, “Rest, dear, good night, I love you so much.”

All the love I had for him curdled into fear. Into resentment. At 19, I didn’t have the patience or the strength I have now. I was angry. I couldn’t understand why he kept leaving me alone after pulling me in so close.

He insulted me, so I insulted him back. When he realized I wasn’t going to wait around anymore, he tried to kill himself. It was horrifying. I never thought he’d actually go through with it, but he did. He turned his threats into reality. And I didn’t even find out until a year and a half later.
I was so furious when he came back that I told him to try again and “get it right this time,” to just leave me the hell alone. For months after that, he hovered. Sometimes he’d forget I existed. Other times, it felt like his whole life revolved around stalking my socials. He’d send messages and delete them. He’d like every single one of my story highlights like a man possessed. I begged him to stop. That was my mistake. It cracked the door open. We started talking again. He seemed calm. Present. Ready to try. Spoiler: He left again. Again, I was left shattered. When he tried to come back, all I had for him were insults. He finally left and didn’t show up again until 2025, with his creepy Instagram lurking. By then, I had moved on. I’d rebuilt my life. I told him I wanted nothing to do with him. But I was too exhausted to fight him off.

He came back right as my world was collapsing—my father figure lost to cancer, my grandma, who was like a second mom, gone by suicide. The people I loved most were disappearing one by one. And I clung to him. He became my lifeline, even though he barely said a word. In a later fight, he even mocked their deaths. I don’t want to spiral here. The point is: I was too broken, too empty to push him away. If he wanted to stay, fine. I also couldn’t bear the thought of him trying to kill himself again. Losing so many people changes you.

He tried to leave again, and I couldn’t let him. He forced his way out, and I, desperate and alone, turned to one of his best friends. I had no one else. He’d made sure of that. His friend was going through a divorce, something eerily similar to what my partner and I were living. Nothing ever crossed a line. But then he started talking to me about fetishes, always hiding behind “I miss my wife, we used to do this.” I opened up. I talked. I never saw him that way—God, we were both just grieving the loves of our lives.

Here’s the plot twist that still makes me sick: I spent months talking to a ghost. His “best friend” never existed. It was him the whole time. My partner. Catfishing me. He twisted everything I said, used it against me, and now he hides behind “we can’t be together” like he’s the victim.

We’ve talked about kids. About marriage. How am I supposed to breathe when he uses the most sacred things as weapons?

I honestly think he’s a good person drowning in feelings he can’t control. He’s not in treatment. He doesn’t want to be.

When he gets angry with me, he drinks until he blacks out. He’s sent me countless messages telling me how badly he wants to hit me for “betraying” him—when I never did. I’d already left him by the time I was talking to his fake “friend.”

He’s thrown jealous fits over me trying to move on years ago… and then swears he’d do anything to keep me. He’s obsessed. So I don’t get this new version of him—cold, distant, like I’m nothing. It flipped so fast. When I went to the beach with my family, he was impossibly sweet. I was sure he’d lose it because, right before I left, he had a meltdown over me wearing a bikini. But he didn’t. The second I got back, he turned. Distance. Cruel words. He tells me it’s all revenge for betraying him. Other days, he says he has a family, or that some other girl is five months pregnant with his baby. I don’t know what’s real anymore. We’ve torn each other apart, but I still cling to this insane hope that love fixes everything. Does it? What do I do? (Don’t tell me to go to therapy, haha. I know. Especially for the codependency, the grief, the abandonment… all of it.)

PS: He says I must have a disorder too because “normal people don’t act like this.” But I’ve seen specialist after specialist, and no one’s ever given me a scary diagnosis. So is he trying to make me feel crazy, or is something actually wrong with me? Yes, I’ve self-harmed. Yes, I’ve threatened him so he wouldn’t leave. I’ve let him get away with so much. I promised I’d wait for him, and he told me his fetishes are nothing like mine—that he’s into orgies, harems. He’s hypersexual, so maybe it’s true, but he’s also so possessive it makes no sense. I don’t know if he’s serious or just punishing me for talking about fetishes with his “friend”—who was him all along. Maybe I shouldn’t have. But to me, it felt normal? I’ve done BDSM quizzes online with friends before, just for fun. No feelings attached. I just… I need an opinion. Advice. I know we’ve both been awful. But I just want this to get better. I want us to be happy. It’s been years. I can’t lose anyone else.

UPDATE FROM TWO WEEKS AGO:
He left again about a month ago. I finally let him go, and it gutted me. I couldn’t get out of bed for days. Then he reappeared, saying his car and phone were stolen at gunpoint. He showed me security footage—it’s real. Someone held a gun to him. The thought of him dead terrifies me. Like that wasn’t enough, the next day my mom’s bus caught fire. She’s okay, but I almost lost her too. Two people, less than a week apart. Things are “calm” now. He has his episodes. He keeps saying he borrowed a phone and will disappear again soon, that I should delete all his socials. And the final blow: this week, my cat almost died from rat poison. I feel like death is following me, taking everyone I love, and it’s making me cling harder. Like every day could be the last.

This is just me venting. That’s all. Please don’t attack me. It’s my first time posting on Reddit.