Alright, let’s talk about this. Having a friend with BPD, or at least showing all the signs, man, it’s been a journey. And honestly? Exhausting is the main word that comes to mind. I’m not a doctor, just sharing what I went through, you know?
My Experience Trying to Be a Good Friend
It started out like any other friendship, really. We clicked, had some good laughs, shared stuff. I thought, ‘Cool, new friend.’ I’m the kind of person who tries to be there for my mates. If someone’s down, I’ll listen, offer what I can. So, when the emotional storms started brewing with this friend, that’s what I did. I listened. A lot.
At first, you just think, ‘Okay, they’re having a rough time.’ You try to be understanding. You make allowances. But then the ‘rough times’ become all the time. It was like one crisis after another. And my role? Apparently, it was to be the constant emotional support human. 24/7. Or at least, that’s how it felt.
I remember trying to keep up. I’d get these long, frantic messages or calls, often late at night. Everything was a massive deal, an emergency. I’d drop what I was doing, try to calm them down, offer advice. Sometimes it worked, for a bit. Other times, whatever I said was wrong. It was like walking through a minefield.
The things that really started to wear me down were patterns like these:
- The Mood Swings: One day I was the best person in the world, the only one who understood. The next, I was accused of not caring, of abandoning them, often for something tiny or a misunderstanding. It gave me whiplash.
- The ‘All or Nothing’ Thinking: Things were either perfect or a total disaster. People were either angels or demons. And I could flip from one category to the other in their eyes real quick.
- The Fear of Being Left: This was huge. It meant sometimes they’d cling super tight, needing constant reassurance. Other times, they’d push me away, almost like they were testing if I’d leave. Both were incredibly draining.
- The Endless Drama: There was always some conflict, some perceived slight, some major emotional upheaval. And I was expected to dive into it with them, every single time.
The Toll it Took
I genuinely tried to be a good, supportive friend. I read up a bit, trying to understand what might be going on, trying to find better ways to respond. But nothing seemed to make a lasting difference. It felt like I was pouring energy into a bucket with a massive hole in it. My own life started to take a backseat. I was always on edge, waiting for the next call, the next crisis.
I remember one specific period, must’ve been a few months. I made a super conscious effort. I told myself, ‘I’m going to be the most patient, understanding friend ever.’ I set aside extra time. I checked in more. I tried to be a rock. And what happened? It just got more intense. The demands grew. My ‘rock’ status just meant I was expected to absorb more and more. I ended that period feeling completely hollowed out. Like, seriously, just empty. That was a bit of a wake-up call for me. I realized my efforts weren’t helping them in a real way, and they were absolutely wrecking me.
You start to feel guilty, too. Guilty for feeling tired of it. Guilty for wanting space. Guilty because you know they’re suffering. But man, there’s only so much one person can take. I started to resent the friendship, and then I felt guilty for that. It’s a nasty cycle.
What I Ended Up Doing
Eventually, I had to create some distance. It wasn’t a big dramatic blow-up. I just started to… pull back. I stopped being available 24/7. I didn’t pick up every call immediately. I didn’t engage with every drama. I had to, for my own sanity. It felt awful at first, like I was being a bad friend. But the alternative was me completely burning out, and then I’d be no good to anyone, least of all myself.
It’s still a work in progress, figuring out what kind of friendship is possible, if any. You still care about the person, but you also have to care about yourself. It’s a tough balance, maybe an impossible one sometimes. Sharing this because, well, if you’re going through it, you’re not alone. It really is that exhausting.
