Bpd Is A Bitch.

Untitled 9.20.23 Excerpt - "...casually smoking cigarettes out of the window of my childhood home. I don't know if it's the way the tar fills my lungs, or how the sad folk music plays softly in the background, or maybe it's the cold September breeze and the way I can see the stars- but I trust that the Gods will take care of me. I have no other choice. For tonight, I have given up. They have gotten me this far, and all of the pain has to be for a reason- right? I quietly pray into the night, for a best friend/soulmate to come back to me (I couldn't bear watching that stupid band play), for good grades, for my friends, for my ever-aging cat. I pray that my fate fares well, and that this horrible feeling passes quick."

better off without you michael- you’re just my eternal sunshine </3

very close to giving up. i feel like i need to go back to the damn ward. i hate that this is my life, and that none of it gets to be easy.

i am tired.

Untitled 9.12.23 (excerpt) - My head lolled against the cool glass of the SUV’s window, Bridgers blasting through air pods, the eternally grey world of Western Pennsylvania blurred by intermittent rain. I have the thought that my therapist is the only person on this planet who truly knows me. That she alone is whom I have laid my soul bare to and has been the only one to accept its abominable sin without falter. And even this yields to the fact that this is what she is trained to be. An artificial connection forged on the basis of years of schooling. No one will ever understand me just because they want to, nor just because they care.

This is the sacred duck he got an important message:

being “considerate of your bpd” my ASS, no improvement whatsoever, no regard for changing plans multiple times,, he just doesn’t fucking care it’s ridiculous like dez literally thinks we might have to break up and i’m thinking she could be right

it just keeps coming in waves. this soul-crushing feeling that i never can describe right. it hurts, it aches, it longs, it rolls but it’s sharp and stings. the great ambiguous birthday blues are settling into my bones for tonight.

TW for SA and R*pe

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

i just want to be pretty. i want to be good and sweet. i hate being this way. i hate myself. i hate the world for turning me into this monster. i hate it all.