My laptops broken
posts to write
My laptops broken
posts to write
Just found this illustration from who knows when I have no recollection of drawing this
***THIS IS IN NO WAY IMPLYING THAT I WANT TO HARM MYSELF OR OTHERS. ONCE AGAIN I AM NOT AT RISK FOR HARMING MYSELF OR ANYONE ELSE. NO SUICIDAL OR HOMOCIDAL IDEATION****
I can’t put into words how much I miss you right now. I want you back, I need you back I hate the person who replaced you. I hate valentines day so much, you used to love it. Last year you spent it with Max, you were so happy. Now I’m completely alone, living in this false reality that I’ve created. My mom is here visiting, I feel like I’m going to throw up in her face from trying so hard to act like I’m okay. You had your life together, you were filled with passion, confidence, love and hope. But that went away when you went away. I’ve been dissociated for so long, time just passes by, and I have no perception of it. When someone steps in to break the false reality, it kills. It hurts so bad, being reminded of the person you and everyone else used to know. The girl everyone loved, who laughed, sang, ate and cared so much for herself and others. The girl who had goals, dreams and saw a bright future for herself. Your pintrist walls with wedding dresses, engagement rings, inspirational quotes. Now look what I do to myself. All I do is hurt myself and everyone around me. I need you to come back, I would do anything to be like you again. Please come back I miss you so much. It hurts so much I just want to sit in my room and cry but I can’t. You hated being alone, and all I want is to be alone. I’m so ashamed of the reckless, worthless, hopeless person I’ve become. I’m not sure if I’ll ever see you again. I don’t see how you can come back after everything I put you through. I’m so sick of everyone asking what happened to your wrist? I’m so sick of hating myself and hurting myself and putting myself in these stupid situations and getting myself into trouble. But I can’t stop now, there’s no reason to. I know your not coming back, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to accept who you’ve become.
How do you know when you’ve actually hit rock bottom? How many destructive things can you do to yourself and the people around you, how many ways can you sabotage your life and the lives of others until you can say you’ve officially hit rock bottom? I can’t say I’m proud of my actions lately, but I can’t say I really give a fuck either. It starts with one stupid decision and next think you know your out of control and you know you’re doing things that you will regret but you don’t care because it’s too late, you’ve done enough to yourself, you can’t hate yourself anymore than you already do. There’s nothing more you can do, it can’t possibly get any worse. So you keep digging yourself deeper and deeper into this hole, where you should find rock bottom, but you don’t. How much more destruction can you take? How much more can the people around you take? You ask me to hold on, hold on to what? There’s nothing to hold onto in this hole I’ve dug myself in, and I’m alone here. I can’t climb out, I wanted to, and I tried, but It’s too hard. *THIS IS IN NO WAY MEANT TO BE INTERPRETED AS ME WANTING TO HARM MYSELF OR OTHERS ONCE AGAIN I AM NOT IN ANYWAY IMPLYING THAT I WANT TO HARM MYSELF NOR AM I IMPLYING HAVING ANY SUICIDE IDEATION*******
What is your first memory?
An unusual question – an older cousin first asked me this after completing a psychology course in college. But it was many years later, before the answer came to me of its own accord.
It was just a few years ago actually – when I had a random flashback of a scene that didn’t quite make sense. It was of my 2nd birthday. But instead of daylight festivities, I remembered my mom waiting until after dark to cut my cake, and to celebrate at all.
To add to my confusion, I had absolutely no memory of my biological father being present at the time.
It was for that very reason that I mistrusted the memory. By then, I had completed psychology courses as well, and knew all about how present situations can ‘change’ or ‘fix’ what we think we remember.
It’s been ten years since I…
View original post 384 more words
My last posts have been so depressing, and I’m so over it (for now?). Sometimes I might have a lot of intense, overwhelming, dark, irrational and slightly delusional feelings and thoughts, but then other times I realize that being borderline is really fun, and I’m really fucking awesome. For example, BPD is associated with higher than average IQ and intelligence. I’m incredibly intelligent. I’m also always extremely aware of what’s going on around me, what people are thinking and feeling to the point that I could probably tell a stranger more about them then they know about themselves.It’s also not just me who feels the intense emotions, I can make other people feel them too, and it makes dating so much more fun. I can be anyone, at any time. I also have this weird thing where when I feel like it, I can make people love me, hate me, want to be me etc. I can be extremely manipulative in a slightly freighting way (the people I’m closest with openly admit that they fear me). I see things that other people don’t, I know how people work and I can use that to my advantage. So I guess I can see how that can be scary for some people, but I can also be manipulative for the greater good. If you know me
you know not to fuck with me, I’m not going to elaborate on that one… And I’m sorry but I can’t leave out the whole “bpd magnet theory.” We are typically extremely attractive and the best in bed. I can’t say I mind being drop dead gorgeous, and the best sex you’ve ever had. Thought I’d try writing some positive things about myself 🙂 Cheers ❤