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Bpd Feels - Blog Posts
aosjdsidskfhfnfrgijfk ghnti ITS BEEN OVER 30 MINUTES WHY ON EARTH HAVEN'T THEY TEXTED BACK
My Platonic FP pays attention to me?? AND downloads my art I show them into their computer so it could forever be with them?
Guys, I'm so lucky o(*////▽////*)q!!!
(If they even dare to interact with others more then me i'll slit my throat open.)
"but it was a joke!" okay well your joke made me want to kms but thats fine since you were just joking ig
but being numb/feeling empty is a whole another level of worse.
sometimes the emotions get so intense that i'd rather be numb.
someone please see i’m struggling and be gentle to me!!! wipe the blood from my skin, hold me, kiss me, comfort me until i feel like something, until i feel like i’m worth existing
how do you break up with someone that you love
idk if I wanna rip my brain out of my head or my heart out of my chest first
sometimes all you can do is accept your inner void
Emotional permanence
is the love still there,
even when you’re not?
to that one person
no revenge bcz one day ull realize i only had the purest intentions towards u, i never hurt u, all i did was love u, n i hope ull realize it n that itll haunt u for the rest of ur life
you might not like me anymore but ill always love you. ill never meet someone who is as amazing and pretty as you, and, in turn, youll never meet someone whos even a little bit similar to me, and i hope that fucking haunts you.
bout ready for a btec home lobotomy
(plz botch it up more plz botch it up more)
i swear death would be more fun than whatever the fuck is going on with me
｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡
ﾟlobotomise me please
ﾟ･｡･ﾟ
knowing i wasn’t born this way and i could have been okay is what kills me the most
i will either over-love or not love at all
pick your poison
it’s hard to get me to say ‘i love you’ but once i’m comfortable i say it far too much
you’ll get sick of it soon enough
someone please take me out (to dinner or with a gun - i’m not fussy at this point)
You know what’s hard to swallow?
When you thought you had it all figured out. Not life, per se, but yourself - ever changing or not.
When you thought you had figured out the root of your problems, and praised yourself for being so darn self aware.
And then, something flips, the moment you give in to vice that you thought you had uncovered the secrets of. Why you drink, why you smoke, why you can’t seem to stop.
You thought you’d figured it out - why it pulled you in, and then, nothing makes sense anymore.
The moment of realising that you don’t know your demons, you don’t know why your eyes seem to always gaze back at the glass of wine next to you, and then the bottle. Why it seems to call out to you, louder than anything else in the room - a scream in an endless sea of whispers.
You give in, because the absolute soul crushing feeling of once again being wrong about yourself is worse than faking the reasons, but you know you’ll make up another. And you’ll believe it.
And the cycle will repeat.
Random vent, but I hate the way BPD is romanticised in the media.
Babe, it is not something to romanticise, it isn’t a trendy hard-shelled girl in a horror movie, or a sarcastic depressed teen in a coming of age series.
It is anger. It is a rage that fills your body to the point where you can’t hear yourself over your heart beating at the pace of a Metallica drum solo.
It is trying to keep it together over and over, and falling apart over something as simple as your shirt getting caught on a door handle.
It is hitting yourself in the head out of anger. It is ripping up clothes, it is punching the nearest thing to you, it is tears falling down your cheeks while you scream out of rage.
It is numb. It is sitting in the same position for hours because there’s no point in getting up. It is boredom and tunnel vision. It is being trapped behind a screen in your mind, watching your life fly past, nothing feeling real.
It is abusing substances to feel something other than nothing. Something other than anger. A fleeting moment of euphoria and ego boost.
It is pushing everyone away, and going silent. It is pulling everyone back in with love bombs the second you feel like they’re going to leave you.
It is compulsive lies, even over little things. It is defending yourself even when you know you’re in the wrong. It is crying during a fight to turn the situation around, turning yourself into the victim, making endless excuses.
It is knowing all of these horrible things are a part of your personality. Knowing that what you hate the most about yourself, is stuck with you.
It’s not romantic, it’s not cinematic, it’s not poetic. I wish it was, but it’s not.
Quiet BPD in a nutshell:
“I can’t take it out on anyone else, so I take it out on myself”
“I’m scared of the day I explode”
“My knuckles are bruised and bleeding from punching my walls, but at least your face is fine”
A playlist for the BPD girlies who love the manic-euphoric feeling of a night club
Oh and yes… It’s also kinda how I imagine a Slytherin party… Totally not a freak fan girl.. ha ha… sigh
Also, Bill Skarsgard? Ummm yes.
Funny thing is.
I don’t even know who reads these posts.
But somehow, I trust yall more than I trust the people I know best in my life.
Funny.
How bpd and ED brings people together …
You know what I wish?
I wish I could speak to someone who understands what it’s like having an ACTAUL ED. Not just “oh my god I didn’t eat breakfast I’m so anorexic” haha. Fuck you.
I wish I could speak to someone who understands having to be a mother to your own mother.
I wish I could speak to someone who understands what it’s like to not know yourself because you’re always looking out for someone else.
Because you are always having to be the person who is there for everyone; the person that no one is there for.
The therapist.
The one who swallows their pride because how dare they have an opinion.
How dare they have feelings.
How dare they be a person.
How dare they be a person and not a therapist.
If someone had to ask, “what’s the worst part of living with bpd?”
I think I’d say, trying to explain to someone what it’s like to not know who you are. Trying to explain swimming to someone who’s never seen water. Trying to explain purple to someone who’s blind.
It always results in a response along the lines of “But I know you”.
Which forces the conversation to an end, with a sigh. Realising that no one will ever truly understand what you are trying to tell them.
Realising that, the person they know, is based on themselves. Or the current movie character obsession of the week.
Trying to explain to someone that, if you were left alone, without any form of influence - real, or fictional - you would be stuck in place.
When you’ve only been in a relationship for a few weeks yet you’ve convinced yourself you’d die for them. 🙂🙃🤡
i hate that im relapsing. i wont tell anyone, not even my girlfriend. i hate that i fought so hard to defeat this disorder before, gaining 30 pounds in less than a year, all to go right back to my destructive habits. but i cant stop. i cant fit in my clothes, im taking up more space, and i wish i liked myself enough now to stay like this. but i hate myself.
i dont see ugly in anyone unless i know theyre a bad person. maybe i think im a bad person. i do, sometimes. i wish i wasnt so angry and temperamental. i wish i didnt struggle to do everyday things. i wish i was BETTER.
i guess i thought gaining weight would help but apparently that wasnt it. and now im beating myself up all over again. now i feel like ive gone too far, and now im in too deep.
i wish i was stronger…