bpdbaddies-blog

[bpdbaddies-blog]

Mors tua, vita mea

[bpdbaddies-blog]

i’ve never shared my writing before so enjoy.

my pov:

i feel like i’m buried in the depths of hell

you can’t physically see the pain that’s lurking inside

it’s taken a toll on me and all i feel is numb

let me give you a glimpse of my life

i do my best hoping to be enough

longing for acceptance of all that i am

constantly told you talk too much

you feel too deeply

you’re way too much

i either talk too much or not enough

i see everything in black and white, there’s no middle path

i don’t think people love me

they love the versions of me i’ve spun for them

the easy parts of me, the easy parts to love

ive spend my life trying to please others

i tried to be the person they all wanted

i gave up my spirit and begged for acceptance

my very existence depends on your acceptance

i’m at war with my own body, my thoughts tell me to hate myself

i cannot look in the mirror for i fear what my brain will tell me

i don’t know who i am anymore

i stare at myself like someone i’ve never met

i’m trying to shrink myself

trying to become smaller, quieter, less me

i don’t want to be too much for people

i want people to like me

i want to be cared for and valued

i crave touch yet i flinch every time someone is close

i want to be wanted

i don’t want to hurt anymore

i’ve sacrificed myself to make others happy

i forgive over and over again and have never learned to let go

i obsess too much and pick everything apart

“i’m just a tragedy and a pity case to them” says my brain

i always feel inadequate and a burden to others

chronically unsure about life

i constantly feel so unworthy

i feel as though my life isn’t worth living

i constantly seek validation from others because i need to feel worthy

i’ll hurt you before you hurt me

“burn the bridge while they’re still on it” says my brain

i’m paranoid everything is against me

i feel trapped in my own body

i feel like i’m in a cage and it’s so hard to grow

i hate everything i am, i’m rotting inside

memories constantly flooding back

i was ruined from such a young age

they were the start of all my problems

they injected me with self doubt

i met evil when i was only a child

i was only a jester for your entertainment

i learned to be afraid as a child

harsh words stripped me of my freedom

i was just a well trained mutt

i didn’t want to be controlled

i wanted to be a child

but i never got the chance to be one

no one asked me if i was okay

why didn’t anyone help me

i must’ve deserved it all

everyone just watched me drown

i was just a child, you robbed me of my childhood

i’m too young to have these scars

i’m no longer a whole person and i never will be

parts of me died in the house i grew up in

please tell me when i will heal from your pain

i’ll forever crave an apology

but i’ll never forget the way you hurt the child i was

i was given the grab bag of mental illnesses

i wake up everyday trying to be a new person

how can someone feel so much but feel so empty

how can emptiness be so heavy

how have i survived so long when i’m so violently self destructive

you have no idea of the pain that runs through my veins

i feel so unspeakably lonely

i can’t manage all these feelings

sadness feels like suicide

distance feels like abandonment

joy feels weird and unknown

i’ll never feel good enough not even for myself

my mood was good, even great then it fell

up and down up and down like a constant roller coaster

there’s a constant battle of sad empty rage inside

i can constantly hear my heart breaking

my soul is broken in parts i didn’t know could break

i’m lonely in places i didn’t know existed inside me

i have the constant urge to run away

but i have no where to go

i’m just so tired of fighting a never ending war

i feel like i was born with tragedy in my blood

the world has drained me of everything i am

i want to dissolve into nothingness

sometimes i think i would be better off dead

but there might be another way out

but i wouldn’t know because i’ve been buried alive

[bpdbaddies-blog]

allergic to reality

[bpdbaddies-blog]

I’m fucking done. I destroy myself to please them and it’s never enough. I’m never enough. And I can’t do it anymore.

[bpdbaddies-blog]

I’m fucking done. I destroy myself to please them and it’s never enough. I’m never enough. And I can’t do it anymore.

[bpdbaddies-blog]

Sorry for being alive it won’t happen again

[bpdbaddies-blog]

wish i could disappear without anyone noticing

[bpdbaddies-blog]

,,You try to heal but your inner child wants love, your teenager wants revenge, and your current self just wants peace."

[bpdbaddies-blog]

8/27/19

I thought I was healing,

but really I'm just

distracting myself

in the same old

self-destructive ways,

because it's too painful

to just be still

with the chaos in my brain.

So I intoxicate myself until

thinking about my shortcomings

doesn't make me feel so small.

I allow myself to feel

only the good things again.

I let other people convince me, for a moment,

that I am enough.

Sometimes they only convince me that I exist,

but sometimes that is enough.

Sometimes they expect me

to break down the walls

I've built around myself.

But my walls are made of trauma, fear, and self doubt.

I'm afraid that if

I break them,

they won't have the strength

to bear the wreckage,

so I'll be left with another mess

I don't have the capability of fixing.

I carry around the weight

of being both unable to save others,

and being unable to be saved.

[bpdbaddies-blog]

I don’t believe people are looking for the meaning of life as much as they are looking for the experience of being alive.

Joseph Campbell (via quotemadness)

[bpdbaddies-blog]

dont ask me if im ok 💯

[bpdbaddies-blog]

[bpdbaddies-blog]

ghosting everyone because i think i’m annoying

[bpdbaddies-blog]

Setsuko Hara in Akira Kurosawa‘s No Regrets For Our Youth (Waga seishun ni kuinashi, 1946)

[bpdbaddies-blog]

[bpdbaddies-blog]

a lot of people describe bpd as chronic emptiness and like i get it but i swear to god the best way i can describe it is that i am absolutely starving. for everything. love, affection, knowledge, passion, creativity. nothing is ever enough, i have never been satisfied. i will spend the rest of my life always wanting more. i am insatiable. it’s exhausting.

[bpdbaddies-blog]

Therapist: untreated bpd could kill you one day

Me, sipping vodka through my twisty straw: let it <3