Favorite Person Syndrome: Like Heroin, But With More Crying in the Fridge

Let’s talk about the emotional rollercoaster that is having a Favorite Person when you live with Borderline Personality Disorder.  

Not the “I like you best” kind of favorite. I mean the “you are my emotional oxygen and I will spiral if you text me ‘k’” kind. The kind that feels like heroin—euphoric, addictive, and absolutely wrecks your ability to regulate emotions like a functional adult.

For me, that person is my wife. Keisha. Keeper of the Calm. Emotional first responder. Snack distributor.  

She didn’t sign up to be my FP. She signed up for love, chaos-adjacent companionship, and maybe a dog or five. What she got was a front-row seat to my emotional whiplash, complete with glitter meltdowns and existential dread at 2 a.m.

The Highs Are High

When my FP is present, engaged, and emotionally available, I feel like I could bench-press my trauma. I’m funny. I’m focused. I’m borderline charming.  

But the second she’s distracted, tired, or—God forbid—has her own feelings?  

Cue the spiral. My brain goes full gremlin: “She hates me.” “I’m too much.” “I should disappear.”  

It’s not rational. It’s BPD. And it’s exhausting—for both of us.

The Crash Is Loud

I’ve weaponized silence. I’ve cried in the pantry. I’ve rage-cleaned the bathroom while composing apology texts in my head.  

And through it all, Keisha has stayed. Not because it’s easy. But because we’ve learned to name the chaos, not shame it.  

We’ve built a system:

•  Check-ins before spirals.

•  Safe words for emotional overload.

•  And a surprisingly useful “Intrustive thought flowchart” (I made it one day as kind of a joke, and did not expect to actually use the damned thing)

What I’ve Learned

Having a Favorite Person isn’t inherently toxic. But unmanaged FP dynamics? That’s where the emotional carnage lives.  

So we talk. We repair. We name the patterns.  

I’ve learned that I don’t need to suppress my intensity—I just need to own it, regulate it, and occasionally laugh at it.

Final Thought

If you’re someone’s FP, bless your emotionally resilient soul.  

If you have an FP, bless your spicy little heart.  

And if you’re both? Welcome to the circus. We have glitter, coping skills, and a Chaos Control Canine named Hera who judges your spirals with quiet dignity.

Split happens, but I happen louder!