I Just Want To Give Up. I’m Tired Of Being Damaged Goods N Hurting Everyone Accidentally.

the Gods answer things in the most wild ways. i made a new (old) friend!! here i was praying and wishing for michael to come back, but the universe said “nope! have this instead!!” and yk what? maybe this is better. turns out i can’t ever fully leave roc behind, and maybe i didn’t want to :’)

i wish i still had michael. right now he would let me talk about the weight of the world that is currently squeezing the life out of my very lungs- until i physically could no longer keep my eyes open and it turned some ungodly hour of the night. he would hear my deepest darkest fears, he would hear how i have to face them to make the right decision, he wouldn’t make me do it alone like i currently have to. he would stand outside in the rain, or pick me up a pint of ice cream from three hours away, or just take me on a drive into utter oblivion. he would let me lay my head on his lap in the backseat of his car, or he’d help me grab a blanket to go stare at the stars, and he wouldn’t complain about how my tears are soaking into his clothes yet again when he finally coaxed me to talk about it all.

he would stand by me until i felt like i could stand on my own again.

i hate this. i cant do this on my own. i don’t have anyone who could let me talk this out in the way that i need to. i don’t even know what i would say, but with him the words would just tumble straight from my heart right out of my mouth.

i need that safe space, i don’t know how to ask someone to do that- i don’t even know if you could.

curiosity the cat strikes yet again. god i hate everything

i pray so often for my friends and chosen family, but i just know that no one is out there praying for me.

bpd is a bitch.

i forgot how fucking delulu i get over this specific person. i need to just be fucking shot.

this study has me all sorts of fucked up. i feel super shitty for a lot of my behavior and my just entire being right now. i’ve always been told since i was younger that i was this unfeeling manipulative monster, what if it’s true? what if all the doctors are lying or just don’t know enough to tell me that i’m horrible? how i endanger people, act shitty, am just wholly the demon my father said i was?

how do you cope? how do you just move on from that self reflection that you possibly aren’t the way close people say you are? how do i know what is real? who to trust?

i need to talk to dez but i don’t even know what i would say-

Søren Kierkegaard, Diaries 1813-1855

i think my tumblr is scientific evidence for bpd mood swings