Living With Bpd Means Feeling Like Someone Thrust Their Hand Into Your Chest And Ripped Out Your Heart

i know deep down i really am never going to make it, and this will end by my own hands

it seems impossible

It’s really weird growing up, because now I don’t tell anyone anything. As I know deep down no one wants to hear what I have to say.

I fucking hate looking in the mirror. Why the fuck do I look like that and why the fuck can’t I be different and how the fuck can anyone even tolerate being near me.

this is going to come off as obnoxious to the people who won’t understand where im coming from but im sure all the qties with BPD on here will relate at least to some degree 😵‍💫

i hate when i say “i hate myself” and people around me automatically turn to say “well (reason) so you shouldnt” spoiler alert but i know !!!!!!! i know that i shouldn’t but its so hard when you feel NOTHING on a daily basis. best day of your life? the good feelings last a solid 17 minutes. worst day of your life? you’ll feel like jumping off the nearest cliff or jumping in front of a passing car and feeling like you’re in the worst distress youve ever been but one nap later, youre back to feeling that pit inside while not even being able to fully remember what exactly had you so upset.

i hate that and i hate myself for it. does that mean i don’t care about myself? no. i still go grab a jacket when im cold. i still care whether im being put in a harmful situation or not. i still care about myself enough to not be putting myself in harms way 24/7. i just dont have the emotional permanece to love myself when there’s a void actively sucking and draining the emotions from me. its so frustrating when the people around you are like “just love yourself 😍” like girl don’t you think ive tried? i dont say “i hate myself” for pity or sympathy (no shame if you do tho) but as a cry of frustration.

it’s like watching a bridge about to collapse and trying to scream that no one should cross it but being unable to get the message across. i *know* there’s reasons why i shouldn’t hate myself but they just never feel good enough for the void. i hate being told how to feel when ive tried everything to change but i know it’s useless

and when all the distractions dont work anymore and its the end of the day, i’m left with just myself and the want for it all to please just fucking stop.

being suicidal at a funeral is the weirdest thing ever.

thoughts be like:

damn this is sad. they say all those nice things… would they do that for me too? who would come to my funeral anyways? what flowers would they bring? what would the speaker say i did in my life if i never really did anything. i dont want to see my grandma cry but damn i want to be dead so bad but what a bad person am i? its so selfish to want that!

I think I wanna get better but what if I'm no one under all the mental illness?