#my bpd is screaming at me that i am unlikable

[gray-ace-space]

oughh i submitted a form to a queer/trans dating thingie.... it may take a while for it to get processed and verified and even longer to get matched w someone bc, this being russia, safety is the priority, but wish me luck nonetheless!!

[confessions-official]

my past abuser who gave me PTSD had BPD. my past situationship treated me like shit, and then became besties with my past abuser (knowing what they did), had BPD. my most recent ex girlfriend who cheated on me throughout the relationship and also abused me had BPD. all of them have used their BPD as justification for their actions and refused to take accountability for what they did to me. it makes me feel like fucking screaming jesus christ.

i hate to say it but my experiences are tainting my view of ALL people who have BPD. im starting to view it as an abusive disorder that weak people use as an excuse so they dont have to face the reality of their actions and behaviors. so they dont have to face the reality that theyre actually bad people incapable of holding relationships or treating someone with half a shred of decency.

i really would not like to get flamed in the notes for this. im confessing this here because A) i know im wrong, and B) if i told this to anyone IRL they would just think im ignorant and a bad person.

i have done countless hours of research on BPD for these two people. just to understand, both retrospectively and in the moment. and i sort of understood. i understand the trauma aspect, all of the mental pain and whatnot they go through, the massive mood shifts, the mania and depressive states, etc. i have researched every aspect of the mental illness that is available on the internet.

but still, i perceive people with BPD to be selfish and uncaring. inherently abusive. i dont know if there is anything i can do to dispel this incorrect belief without just meeting and forming a healthy relationship with someone who has BPD. but that seems like an impossible challenge.

some background on myself: teenager with OCD, PTSD, and Anxiety (some others, but im just stating the three that effect me the most because i think that listing off a bunch of mental health issues in quick succession sounds tacky and is giving "your honor im neurodivergent and a minor". idk. dont cancel for me that as well. i am probably very unlikeable in this confession)

i would love to not feel this way. if anyone has any advice for me, or would like to challenge this, please dont hesitate to. i want to make it clear that i would never EVER express this to anyone with BPD. i would treat them exactly how i treat everyone else, which is what i have been doing. but i may be more wary of them or hesitant to form a close connection because i just dont want to get hurt again.

 

[carolmunson]

unpacking some feelings

I just came across a TikTok of a girl who is experiencing a hypomanic episode which is something I experience as a bipolar 2 (potentially BPD) person. In the TikTok her boyfriend takes her wallet while they go shopping together so she can’t over spend and mentions it’s ‘on the sheet’ because I’m assuming they have a sheet of things he assists her with.

On paper this seems so genuine and nice because how wonderful is it to have a partner that wants to help you while you’re going through it? But for me, I felt sick. I felt repulsed — disgusted.

‘He’s treating her like she can’t take care of herself. Like she’s a fucking baby who doesn’t know any better,’ was my initial thought. She asks her boyfriend in the store, ‘Can I get this?’ and my face soured. Asking for his permission like she can’t possibly just suck it up and do it herself.

But then I had to step back and wonder why my first reaction was disgust. I don’t think it was jealousy — but, sadness, anger. Not at her and her relationship but that I’ve never been offered the same kindness and because of that, I have never wanted to ask for help. I have stopped asking for help all together. I don’t expect people to help me.

My parents never took my moods swings seriously, always chalking it up to pre-teen and teenage growing pains. When even as a child I suffered from really big feelings of inadequacy and overwhelming stress. Even up to my late twenties with a diagnoses my dad described me as always being dramatic.

When I started dating my ex at fifteen, I was never allowed to be sad or to be hurt or hurting. It was always about helping him, especially in ways that I young teenager should not have been expected or required to do.

I got hardened, I stopped letting myself feel it. I stopped asking for help. I just let it happen. I stopped crying altogether. I swallow every negative emotion. I don’t allow bad days, I don’t allow sadness. All of my depression episodes are high functioning. All of my hypomanic episodes were ignored — praised for my positivity, my productivity, my weight loss.

My most recent ex just…didn’t understand it. And by then, I didn’t know how to talk about it. He didn’t know how to help, so he didn’t. He’d tell me to see a therapist; and I did. But I needed his support; just not with kid gloves, I never wanted to have kid gloves

And I wonder if I will ever be able to feel better. If I will not get nervous when someone is kind to me. If I will not feel suspicious or sick or disgusted when a romantic partner puts in the effort. When they are nice. When they care. Because after so much silence, or being silenced (okay Oprah), or forcing myself ti be hyper independent — I don’t really fully think I deserve it. This hyper independence has made me believe that I’m selfish and unlikable; like I’m lying about myself. Like I turn on this fake part of me to make me seem normal and okay and together — but internally I am fucking screaming. All the time. Just screaming and ripping my skin off and setting myself on fire.

And I don’t think anyone can hear me screaming. So I don’t tell them that I am. Because I don’t want them to know that I need someone to kindly take my wallet away when I’m about to over spend at the store.

[findinginga]

Every broken heart has screamed at one time or another: "Why can't you see who I truly am?" (Shannon L. Alder)

I Could Just Walk Away...I Should Just Walk Away...

As I wrote in my last post, it was painfully clear that Ingeborga could not be trusted to produce an honest accounting of her life.  Even confronted with significant evidence of her actions, she resisted the truth as a child might protest a trip to the pediatrician.  After another dustup with Inga, I was again shown a clear exit path.  I owed her nothing.  I had been wronged an was the injured party.  There was no reason to even consider hanging about and waiting for the next blow to land.  

To compound the hurt, the "salt in the wound" as it is said, was the fact that Inga offered no apology.  There were no words of regret or any acknowledgement on her part that she had caused harm.  Her lack of any demonstrable remorse was infuriating but also very curious.  As angered as I was about her attack on my integrity I was also considering the reasons why she was seemingly so oblivious to her own actions.  Shame or embarrassment did not appear to be a part of her emotional armamentarium. Those with narcissistic personal disorder (NPD) have been described as avoiding shame.  Their actions do take a toll on their self-esteem but rather than acknowledging their missteps, they open their NPD toolkits and project, deflect and gaslight in order to avoid introspection.

...No I Should Run Away...

 It did seem that running away was the perfect response as I considered all that I ever heard from folks in the psych world about the challenges working with NPD and BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder) patients.  Their pathology can be fatiguing to a clinician.  Long-term prognosis has always been thought of as unlikely.  There are some providers who avoid working with clients exhibiting the sorts of symptoms that are common to these personality disorders.

If you are interested in learning more about NPD, please have a look at this and other videos by Dr. Ramani Durvasula:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IEfS-_a21kk

Why Bother?

If being a partner and a lover had been ruled out by Inga, then I wanted to have my questions answered.  Paramount for me was learning about her true motivations for her actions.  What had happened in her life to bring her to the point where she was so cavalier in her personal interactions.  Alternatively, were she and Denis simply engaged in a scam?

Despite the hiring of a private investigator and the photos and videos of Inga and Denis together, there was no way to really know whether Denis was involved or if he was merely being manipulated by Inga.  There was no way to determine if it was a loving relationship or a marriage of convenience.

There was also the obvious fact that my communications with Inga had taken place on her terms and there was never the benefit of assessing her reactions in real time.  It was clear to me that while I may not be able to answer all of those questions that were swirling about in my mind, I did have to option to meet her, in person, and at the very least gather some impressions of Inga in face-to-face meetings. 

So, time to plane for a trip to Russia!

[chasing-rabbits]

Have to laugh or I’d cry and I’ve had enough of crying for tonight. Having an awful breakdown but hey fuck it right because fuck that right who cares about that. Fuck that I’ve been crying every night breaking down since Sunday in fact last night was the only night so far that hasn’t ended in tears but hey fuck that. Fuck that I’ve been progressively getting worse. No fuck it fuck it doesn’t matter, doesnt matter none of it fucking matters so why the fuck do I keep trying for. I dont care I’m not doing this for me so why the fuck do I care. Why should I keep putting myself through this night after night for everyone else’s sake when I have the answer when I could just give in and stop fighting with myself to make the ‘right’ choices.

Just so fucking tired of fighting just so I don’t disappoint others or upset them. Like yes I am aware it’s a shit coping mechanism and yes I don’t ‘want’ to do it but also I do ‘want’ to do it because a shit coping skill is still better than not having any (at least not any that are working rn). Worst of all is how selfish all this is. My breakdowns are selfish. My BPD is selfish. It is inherently selfish, I hurt so much I am in so much pain it blinds everything else and it forces itself out of the shadows it screams and shouts to be heard it paralyses and puts you in harmful situations. It’s selfish because it’s so devastating it causes such immense pain that it can’t be ignored by those around us and when I can’t control it I require others help. And I’m not saying this in a derogatory way I saw something awhile back that talked about bpd in this way & I was prepared to be like ugh at it cos iykyk but the way it framed it actually made a lot of sense and it wasnt saying it in a shitty or stigmatising way but idk I wish I could remember where I saw it because it made a lot of sense unlike me right now. That being said I feel selfish because I can no longer keep everything inside. I don’t have the strength to do it on my own. I feel selfish because when I”m in so much pain I’ll cling to anything that can take it away. It’s selfish because those around me who love me are forced to take action when it hits because otherwise I’m a risk to myself & sure not literally forced but they love me they’re not going to leave me like that ig I’m saying my bpd is so volatile the breakdowns I get are so bad it leads to situations where they ‘have’ to step in bcos I can’t keep myself safe. I feel selfish knowing that just by being in someone’s life by virtue of loving me they are going to be put in situations where inevitably I won’t always be able to handle my bpd on my own sometimes it’ll get so bad I’ll reach out for help and they’ll want to because they love me & I’ll cling to them like a buoy keeping me afloat in a storm. I’m not a selfish person I know this but sometimes I can’t handle it on my own and idk sometimes reaching out for help feels selfish because it happens so often. because people have to set aside their day/time for me, for my bpd & it’s hard because you’re always told to reach out for help but when that help is so constant its hard not to feel selfish, guilty, weak, a burden. It feels selfish to be honest with people now because if they knew how bad I was doing .

[lotusthekat]

I’ve felt this way before (so insecure)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: T

Relationships: Steven & Lars (please do not ship them)

Characters: Steven Quartz Universe, Lars Barriga

Summary: There’s something wrong with him.

Word count: 2.200

AO3

A/N: basically me venting through Steven and also to show off my very personal headcanon that he might have BPD.

Please be aware of the trigger warnings below. Take care of yourself. <3

TRIGGER WARNINGS - non-graphic depictions of self-harm and blood, trauma, panic attack, anxiety and depression.

--

It was weird when Steven received Lars’ text, suggesting their usual baking session could take place at the former’s house instead. As if Steven hadn’t just trapped Lars and all their friends in an enclosing pink dome.

Well, Lars still hasn’t decided whether he’d go to space or not, but considering everyone else was definitely leaving, then Steven didn’t take it very well. But he wasn’t anywhere mature about it, either. It embarrasses him every night when he can’t sleep.

Even then, Steven couldn’t reject the invitation. If anything, he’s quite relieved that Lars wants to hang out with him despite the scene. But deep inside…

There’s something wrong with him.

Maybe since his new powers developed, as they’ve only gotten stronger and more dangerous with each day. They synchronize with his emotions. And that’s exactly the problem.

Steven’s emotions have been staggering.

He doesn’t want to be abandoned, but he doesn’t want to hold anyone back.

He’s angry at everyone, at himself and no one. He’s so angry, he’s prone to lashing out and cracking walls and windows far too often.

He’s ashamed of his shameful clinging to everyone around him, and as a result, he’s isolated himself. Then Steven becomes sad and tired, too, which is why he dropped Little Homeschool in the first place.

But in the next moment, he’ll be smiling like nothing happened. Because maybe he should be getting his life together. Maybe he should smile and let it go.

In reality, his mind is dangerous. Domes and walls will imprison him, while he tries to protect himself from something inevitable.

(Loneliness? Death? War? Everything? Nothing?)

It’s confusing and terrifying and Steven has no idea how to get through this. However, the half-gem can’t let anyone know, because what if they actually leave him when they realize how unstable he is? What if Pearl, Garnet and Amethyst leave the house forever? What if Connie never comes back to Beach City? What if Dad also moves out? What if Lars really goes to space?

It’s especially harder to hide now, with Lars right next to him, laughing at the stories Steven is telling him. Lars is having such a good time, and Steven is trying, because his friend will leave if the dome disaster happens again.

Steven has shoved his pink fists inside his pockets, only helping when Lars needs. It’s been tough keeping it all in. Keeping the hurt, enraged pink to himself. It aches for something, something he’s not at all sure.

The younger boy doesn’t want to ruin their time. He doesn’t want to push Lars away. He might go to space and never come back. Maybe he won’t even want Steven to visit him.

Be quiet.

Think of love.

Flexibility, love and trust.

It’s okay.

It’s okay.

It’s not.

Shut up.

It’s not!

“… uh, Steven?”

The sixteen-year-old boys looks at his friend as if he were away to space again.

“Oh, hi,” Steven laughs nervously.

“You, um. You wanna take a break? You look a little—”

“T-That’d be great!” Steven blurts out. “I gotta go to the bathroom real quick, don’t disappear while I’m gone!” He laughs forcibly as he runs to the small door and locks himself inside before Lars notices.

He lets out the shakiest breath.

Why is this happening?

Why can’t he be okay?

He…

He needs to do something.

Steven inhales deeply, very deeply, trying to swallow the threatening tears. Not now. Not now.

It’s useless.

He’s useless.

…

He needs to do it.

Steven hates it,

but there’s nothing else he can do.

The boy takes a look at himself before opening the mirror cabinet. He’s crying despite telling himself no, and he’s glowing pink like never before.

This is the only way, then.

Beside the Diamond Aura bottles lie the small, subtle razor blades, now shining bright with his pink reflection.

Steven already shudders just by touching the blades, sharp in his fingers.

His hands are trembling badly, for that matter.

He hates, hates doing this.

But if the pink won’t comply, then he has no choice.

It’ll be quick, though.

He’ll be fine.

…

The moment the blades are close, his thoughts scream.

They cry like lost souls haunting him, the same ones that have stalked him for all these years.

Steven is angry.

Get out!

GET OUT!

…

Then there are crimson flames in his pink arms, burning like lava and poison.

It makes him sick.

He’s gonna puke.

The blades fall off his hands.

Steven will never be used to this.

Even if they’ll be gone with one healing tear…

The red hurts.

Steven’s arms wrap around himself, maybe as a way of comfort. Maybe so he doesn’t throw up and panic.

His own pathetic hug is all he has, soothing the painful but quiet sobs.

However, the world outside comes right back, knocking at his door.

“Steven?”

Gasping, the boy takes the stained razor blades off the floor and put them back in the cabinet.

“Just a second!” He exclaims.

“I- I heard you crying, is everything-?”

“Yep, everything’s fine!”

Lars soon sounds frustrated, “Dude, you’ve been weird all day, why won’t you talk to me?”

Oh no, no, no

“Wait, please!” Steven begs, please don’t be mad, don’t leave me, please—

He quickly kisses both of his arms, the crimson stains gone, and he cleans the remainders from his mouth.

Steven doesn’t waste time to open the door and force a smile onto his face.

“I’m right here!” He yells. “I’m completely fine!”

Lars opens his mouth, only for his eyes to go horribly wide.

“… Lars?”

“St- Steven, there’s blood all over your jacket!”

Indeed, his pink jacket is stained where he’d been hugging.

Something cracks.

(His mask? His lies?)

“It- I-It was an accident! I w-was… I…”

What sort of accident?

What could explain it?

“I…” tears form in the corner of his growing eyes, his skin glowing pink again. “I…”

Lars’ eyes pale. “Steven…”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, the younger boy laughs.

“You must think I’m crazy, right?” Steven asks, his smile fading to nothing. “Maybe I am. Nothing is making sense anymore,” he sniffs and looks away, avoiding the horrified stare. “You should probably leave, Lars. I-I don’t want to hold you back again. I’m sorry.”

The lonely silence meets him. It’s all so quiet, Lars might not even be there anymore. It’s probably for the best.

Regardless, steps come forward and Steven shivers.

Soft yet calloused hands carefully reach his arms, pulling up his sleeves.

“… are your arms okay?” The question is quiet. Too quiet. But not angry.

Steven gulps either way, nodding, “I-I healed them. It’s okay.”

“… okay.”

Thumbs rub where the crimson once was. They soon go for his shaking hands, squeezing both with care.

Lars doesn’t look angry at all.

At least not to the eye.

Steven doesn’t know if that’s a good thing, unsure what his friend is feeling.

Lars takes a deep breath – and Steven shivers again, expecting to get yelled at – only for him to give him a simple command.

“Turn around, will you?”

“Um- okay?” He does as he’s told and wonders what this is about, when…

Lars removes the jacket for him, leaving Steven with his black t-shirt exposed.

“We should probably wash this, right?” Lars suggests, not a hint of annoyance noted. “Where’s your washing machine again?”

“O-Oh, it’s…” Steven gulps, “it’s outside. We’d have to take the warp pad there.”

“Alright.”

Lars walks to the crystal platform inside the house, expecting Steven to come with. In spite of all his confusion, the half-gem takes them to the giant hand statue that holds the machine and the clothes that are yet to be dried.

Steven hasn’t been here with someone else in a long time, to be fair. He’s had good times here. But bad ones too.

Lars does all the work, even if Steven insists he shouldn’t. The older boy doesn’t complain.

The stained pink jacket is then inside the repetitive, circled movement inside, the crimson clues to be gone in minutes. Lars doesn’t actually question how the washing machine works, which is quite unlike his nature.

Steven is scared of questioning it, afraid Lars might actually be mad at him. Maybe he’s planning to leave soon. He must be doing all of this out of obligation, even though he shouldn’t.

Lars is waiting in front of the machine, arms crossed. They don’t share any words.

Steven has… so much to say, and yet…

He’s so humiliated.

He sits at the corner of the giant hand, holding his own hands.

“Lars…” Steven dares let out, “are you mad at me?”

The seconds that follow terrify him.

“No,” Lars replies simply, approaching him, “of course not.”

“Why won’t you say anything, then?” Steven insists, loud. “W-Why are you still here?” He burns pink, “I thought you wouldn’t want to see me again after everything I’ve done!”

He dries his own tears, ultimately hiding his face because it’s useless.

Lars is sitting next to him, but not too close.

“Do you want me to leave?” The older teen wonders.

Steven overthinks.

“… no.”

“I thought so.”

Steven vaguely looks at his friend. “D-Do you want to, though?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re my friend, Steven. And something has been wrong for a long time now,”—Lars looks back, sympathetic —“hasn’t it?”

The sixteen-year-old gazes at him, unable to give a verbal response.

Lars gets it.

“Have you…” he hesitates, “have you hurt yourself before?”

Steven clutches his arms.

“Yeah.”

“Does it make you feel better?”

Steven ponders in the setting, giant sun watching them from the horizon.

“I don’t know,” he mutters.

Lars quietly expects him to continue.

“I hate doing it, actually,” Steven admits, “I always feel sick every time I do it. But for some reason, I… I want to do it again, again, and again, because… it’s all I can do.”

He stares at his arm, as if it’s red still.

“I know it’s wrong, but… it’s all I have right now. It’s the only way I have of letting everything out, without hurting anyone else. I can’t let people know how much of a mess I am, or else—” he sniffs, “they’re going to leave me. They’re going to realize I’m a fraud. T-That I’m- I’m not as good as everyone thinks I am.”

Steven squeezes his arm, quite too tight.

Lars puts his hand onto his, silently asking him to stop.

He does.

“So, no one else knows about this?” Lars asks.

Steven shakes his head.

“I didn’t want you to find out.”

Lars doesn’t take his hand away. In fact, he’s rubbing Steven’s arm again. The latter doesn’t want to say it, but it’s quite comforting.

“I’m glad I do, though,” the space pirate says. “I mean, of course I’m upset you’re hurt… but I could never leave you for feeling that way, buddy.”

Steven looks up in hope. “Really?”

“Really. Steven”— Lars sighs —“you know how much you mean to me, right?”

The younger boy wants to say yes, but…

“Well, maybe I don’t show it that much,” Lars speaks, taking his silence for an answer. “Maybe I should’ve realized why you were so upset at the Graduation, and I’m sorry I didn’t. But Steven… you’ve changed my life so much that I could never thank you enough. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. And even then, you didn’t need to prove me anything. I always knew you were amazing, as much of a prick I was back then.”

Steven is…

He’d never imagine Lars felt this way.

“What I mean is…” the taller boy’s eyes are also shining with water. “I love you, Steven. I do.” Lars is smiling with the most fondness Steven has ever seen. “And I love every part of you, even the ones you want to hide.” This time, he’s pulling Steven close with an arm wrapped around the latter’s shoulders. “I know it’ll take a while for you to remember this, but that’s okay. I’ll be here to remind you every time you need.”

“Lars…”

Steven has absolutely no idea what he could say.

I love you, too.

I’m sorry.

For what?

I don’t know.

Lars doesn’t expect him to speak, though.

He’s then squeezing Steven in a half hug.

“Can you promise me something?” Lars wonders. “Will you tell me when you want to hurt yourself again?”

Steven hesitates.

“I… I-I’ll try.”

“Please do. You don’t deserve to hurt, pal.”

Steven tries to hold in, but he buries himself in the other’s chest, like a child haunted by a nightmare. Lars retributes the hug and even rocks him a little side to side.

“I-I’m… I’m glad you’re here, Lars,” Steven sobs.

“Yeah, me too.” Lars puts a hand on the back of his head, softening his messy curls.

The now clean jacket is set to wait out in the night. The boys end up ordering pizza, pushing the baking session for another day. They resort to the champignon pizza Steven has gotten fond of as of late.

At least tonight, he sleeps at ease.

[just-another-hhazbin]

i have SO MANY headcanons get ready

first of allll........i heacanon angel has both bpd and hpd (bc so do i 😳). bpd is characterized by feeling isolated, intense emotions that the sufferer struggles to deal with, extreme fear of abandonment, drug/alcohol use, and suicidal ideation. on the other hand hpd is characterized by acting seductively and/or dramatically for attention (positive or negative), high sensitivity to criticism, constantly seeking reassurance and validation, and being excessively self centered.

and i like to think there’s some canon evidence to back me up here bc angel definitely seems to struggle with being seen as weak/not being good enough and reacts harshly when vaggie insults his appearance. i also headcanon angel is hypersexual and thinks the only reason anyone would ever love him is for sex, which is Sad but also a mood

that got long oopsie 😳 okay Anyway i also hc both angel and alastor are afab nonbinary 🥺 angel is genderfluid (goes from male to gender neutral to female uvu) and doesn’t really. care about pronouns but would say he/him if asked. alastor is agender (previously id’d as a trans guy) and their pronouns are he/they/it.

bonus hc: alastor has not otherwise specified psychotic disorder, basically in the form of auditory hallucinations (voices laughing and telling him to do things) with no other features. [as u can tell i’m projecting but Anyway]. al also has pretty graphic intrusive thoughts. one of the reasons he hates being close with people is because he’s afraid he’ll hurt them and end up being all alone again.

I need ALL the headcanons. 👀 They are my sole sustenance besides caffeine and chicken afjashdjfhasjkfs. 

Also, because I will repeat this on each and every single ask that discusses neurodivergent headcanons because I know some of y’all will yap about it if I don’t - we are firmly ignoring the implications of any character being canonly neurodivergent and what kind of rep that might provide while acknowledging that being neurodivergent has nothing to do with what makes a person “good” or “bad.” We also do not invalidate any neurodivergency in this house. Cool? Cool. Onwards!

The projection mood... 📓✍️  I can definitely see Angel with both/either of those disorders. He definitely shows signs of both from the glimpses we see in both the pilot and addict, though obligatory disclaimer that his environment between the drugs and Valentino definitely isn’t helping, him seeking out the risks and rush and attention, etc from those industries would be in line with either or both of those... I need more notes emojis asfhkjashf. But yes, I definitely see Angel exhibiting behavior in canon that would line up with those headcanons.  

I can also definitely see and understand hypersexual!Angel Dust, though I am somewhat guilty of harboring a love for ace!Angel Dust as well. Do I think hypersexual is much more likely canon-wise than ace? Yup. Do I love it anyway... yes I do.  I also agree with him seeing himself as unlovable and wanted only for sex - the implied abuse of Henroin would have damaged his self-esteem enough, nevermind some - 70? - years of working under Valentino, he of the abusive behavior and possible/probable gaslighting, along with whatever Anthony was doing in his life topside.

We know my nonbinary ass loves some nonbinary headcanons. Genderqueer Alastor and Angel Dust... are so important to meeee... (wipes a tear from my eye dramatically).  I tend to put Angel Dust somewhere between trans and genderqueer more than genderfluid, just someone who’s fully comfortable with himself/themself and knows he looks rocking no matter how he presents himself. But I can also see him as genderfluid! 🤔 Hell, I’m agender and I still have days where I poke myself and feel one gender more than another. The nonbinary mood...

Agender Alastor is something I love with all my agender heart, absolutely yes. (Nobody talk to me, I’m projecting.)  I know we’ve talked about agender al on here before but damnit we’re talking about them again. I think Alastor just does whatever the fuck Alastor wants, and when asked about a gender, it isn’t “boy” or “girl” or etc., it’s just... Alastor. They’re just themself. I do tend to have my agender Alastor use he/him pronouns more than they/them, just because he’s grown comfortable with them and is a bit stuck in the 1930s, but he’s also comfortable with they/them. It/Its are incredibly valid pronouns, but Experiences have led to them not being my personal preference.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  (And I stress the personal there. And then point to me projecting ajfdhskdhfas.)

[We all project a bit, it’s valid.] I’ve never really thought much about the possibility of him hearing voices, but with his impulsive behavior and mood swings from topside I wouldn’t necessarily be surprised, and I especially wouldn’t be surprised given his afterlife connection to the Loa and, ya know, the whole “Radio” thing.

I definitely headcanon Alastor as someone who is very impulsive and does have intrusive thoughts that he’s sometimes more than happy to carry out (ie on strangers) but is less than pleased with when they involve himself or those he cares about. He has no real desire to see his people hurt, but he’ll still catch himself thinking about it, maybe the shadows darkening a bit, his hands straying... and then he’ll catch himself and make up an excuse to hurriedly leave and collect himself elsewhere or go on a killing spree as an (invalid) coping method.  I also agree that I definitely think Alastor fears loneliness and silence, and maybe I’ve just read Jadeile’s “Afterlife” too many times, but you cannot convince me that Alastor isn’t a touch-starved extrovert. He was a charming and popular radio host in life, he probably had all the attention he could’ve wanted and then some. That’s probably how he made a few of his kills, even. But in Hell where every other street his plastered with signs warning people to run from him? Yeah. Also, he’s just incredibly clingy and manhandling through the pilot, and I think part of that is because he’s finally around people who won’t just run screaming if he so much as speaks to them (unlike pretty much everyone else, as seen in the comic).

Okay, I went off on a couple tangents there, but. Yes. I’m done now sadkjfh.

[presidentrhodes]

It almost physically pains me how nobody pays attention to the homoeroticism in Doctor Strange, or Karl Mordo/Chiwetel’s superb acting in particular. Doctor Strange is one of the gayest, most em-elle-em-est comics, and nobody’s talking about this? Not even people who make their living with this sort of stuff. It makes me feel like I’m crazy! (Well, I have BPD, so… valid lol). Why is nobody discussing all the love interest tropes played by Mordo? Karl is as obviously gay as Valkyrie or Carol!

yep! plus comics mordo is dull and boring and yet chiwetel brought so much complexity and gravitas to the character on screen. the fact that marvel isn't capitalising on his acting chops is a real shame. now they're bloating up multiverse of madness with elizabeth olsen, tobey maguire, tom holland, possibly tom hiddleston too instead of building up the mordo v strange rivalry. it's so damn silly, i am pretty sure i am going to end up ignoring 90% of the movie and rewrite my own canon lol

i really wanted them to explore mordo's backstory but it looks unlikely, given how they're going. i also think it's partly why scott derrickson left because he wanted to focus more on the doctor strange characters instead of wanda, spidey, loki et al.

there are a bunch of amazing people who have been screaming about them a lot longer than i have! @mianmimi @beetle-stans @surgeonofthemysticarts and zen (who is on ao3 as zenkitty555 but doesn't have tumblr!)

[knaite-solo]

My mom’s Top 5 Boku no Hero Characters

She only watched season 1 yesterday so this certainly will change. We’ll started season 2 on this friday.

1 - Tenya Iida

She likes his design and his quirk. Her first impression was that he was too grown up and rigid to be a 15-year-old, but little by little she became more affectionate with his serious nature, finding his sense of justice (and hands gestures) a very adorable trait.

2 - Todoroki Shoto

What she likes most about him is how he can be powerful without bragging about his greatness, unlike Bakugou (a character she hates). Honestly, my mom would kick Bakugou’s ass if she could. She was so happy when Deku and Uraraka won the battle simulation. It was funny to see her saying "get fucked, you little piece of shit".

Returning to Todoroki, she sees an obvious resemblance to him and Zuko (yes, she watched Avatar with me) and is another reason why she likes him.

I asked, "Mom, why do you like Todoroki?" And she said, "Because he is awesome."

3 - Aizawa Shota

My mom is a teacher so she had an almost instant affinity with him. The fact that he sleeps in class, let students do whatever they want as long as they don't bother him and uses messy clothes made her identify a lot. She works with an audience of children aged 11 to 15 years, so it is natural that the routine is stressful and sometimes the desire to don't give a fuck is strong.

Initially, my mother found him kinda rough and very hard on the class, but when Aizawa heroically defended the students and was practically tortured by Nobu, she saw a side of him that she fell in love with. A tough teacher is not necessarily a villain. Sometimes, they take harsh attitudes because they think that is the right way to deal with certain situations and that doesn't mean that they don't care about you.

4 - Uraraka Ochako

In short, my mother thinks she is a kind person and that is something we should all be with each other. Furthermore, she finds her quirk incredible and her cuteness immeasurable.

5 - Kirishima Eijirou

We talked a lot about who would be the last one and she surprised me saying that it would be Kirishima. Honestly, I expected someone like All Might or Midoriya (even Present Mic since she wished she could scream like him), but in the end, she chose Kirishima. And why Kirishima?

He is clearly a manly guy, but with a personality that conflicts with the stereotype that tough guys are insensitive, showing that he is someone who cares a lot about others and is very sweet. Even his smile, with its super sharp teeth, has something special about it. You end up being infected by that joy.

Another thing that my mother loved about him is the fact that he has incredible power, but he doesn't realize it, commenting with Midoriya that he doesn't think that being able to harden his body is really cool and that he probably won't attract attention in the future as a pro hero. He doesn’t see his own potential and that drew her attention to his person.

And... Midoriya Inko!

(I thought she deserved an honorable mention)

My mother and I have a relationship very similar to what Izuku and Inko have. She is the type of mother who cares about me excessively and always tries to cheer me up, even in the silliest way possible. The scene where little Midoriya asks if he can be a hero like All Might and she hugs him while they both cry was very personal to me.

Five years ago I lost all mental instability and three years later I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) and I lost absolutely everything. All my work to be the best went to waste and I was abandoned by many people when they realized that I could no longer be what they asked.

I remember the night I received my diagnosis and asked my mother "Why me? Why I was born with a defect?" My mom hugged me in the same way that Inko hugged Izuku in the anime. I just wanted to die and be reborn in another way. I felt guilty for not being the perfect daughter. I hit rock bottom over and over again, but I never gave up on my dreams, just like Deku. And I am grateful for my mother's support. She is an Inko in my life.

I'm so proud of my mom. She's has a really good taste.

So, what did you think of her choices? What’s your top 5?

I’m tagging you guys since you’re amazing BNHA fans and I hope that doesn’t bother you.  

@shoutodoki​ @ourladyofseijoh​ @virtualkeef​

[mamacleo]

BORDERLINE PERSONALITY DISORDER: You can't beat it. Or can you?

TW, CW: Frank discussion of mental illness, language

SPOILER ALERT: Triumph.

ADVISO: Long (yeh, surprise)

Everyone reading this who knows me knows about my struggles with mental illness especially borderline personality disorder (BPD). This missive is written because, after an entire adulthood of being its servant and its victim, at last I have a strategy. As of today.

I want to use this opportunity, then, to inform anyone who might not understand BPD. This is going to be an actual article, and I will repost this on Blogger, Medium, and Tumblr.

What I'll do is give a bit of info about BPD for anyone who might not understand it, describe how last night and this morning are typical in ways anyone can understand, and then relate my solution. I do this knowing that this solution is specifically for me. It may not work for anyone else. But you can try it and see if it works.

Let me talk about BPD. It doesn't exist among adults who did not experience trauma in their childhood. Childhood physical trauma can lead to PTSD in adults, and that's one thing, but BPD only comes out of emotional trauma, and bad trauma at that. Kids who were gaslighted, lied to, and subjected to wild, irrational mood swings are the most susceptible. BPD is, if you would like it put simply, those extremes of emotion you might feel from time to time ratcheted up to 11 and happening virtually every day. BPD is emotion magnified and amplified.

Offense becomes anger, anger becomes rage, rage becomes fury. A lot of rage junkies are BPD. It's not just fear of abandonment, it's terror. Shifts in emotion can produce panic, mania, and horror. Love becomes obsession. There's virtually no way to regulate it. Once it kicks in, rational thinking stops. Things that should make sense to most people don't make sense to the sufferer. Logical thinking becomes impossible. People can explain things to you reasonably and thoroughly, but your mind can't accept them. Every worry can turn into a soul-crushing depression. Every fear can turn into screaming paranoia.

No, you can't control it. (Though as you read on, you'll see that this girl now has a strategy.) For my entire life, I have been searching for a key to unlock this straitjacket. When it kicks in, it's virtually impossible to stop. It has to build to a crescendo, a sort of anti-orgasm made of nuclear-fueled insecurity, before something makes it break. Then you return to normal and all you can do is try to cope with the fallout.

BPD people know what's going on. Maybe not in the moment. We can't always see what's happening, which frightens and confuses us more. Like the comedian John Mulaney said, "We don't want us to do this either." We know what happened once it's over, though, but not all the horror, regret, shame, and remorse can change what happened, and it won't stop it from happening again. Sometimes we even see ourselves starting down that road once it starts, but recognizing it doesn't help. Quickly it takes over our thinking, both rational and emotional, and whatever perception we had that we thought could rescue us vanishes. Then it's down the rabbit hole, where nothing makes sense and nothing stops the descent.

I have said and done terrible things during episodes. I have said and done them knowing *at the time* that they were terrible, yet I was powerless to stop them. That is what people do not understand, but perhaps these words will express to the unknowing the misery of this disorder. When I was in rehab for drinking, our facilitator used the phrase, "Somebody else is driving the bus." That is almost exactly it. Most of the time, Cleo is driving the bus, but when an episode kicks in, Cleo becomes an observer in her own head. Somebody else is driving the bus.

It happens in an instant. No warning. One instant it's not there. The next, it is. Nothing you can do will prevent it.

That driver is like a separate entity living inside you. Full disclosure: I also suffer from dissociative identity disorder, which manifests mildly for me, but dissociation is far from unknown among BPD sufferers. In fact, most people dissociate at one time or another. Ever state into space without thinking, then snap out of it? Not know how you got from point A to point B in your car, though you were driving the whole time? Ever "zone out"? That's dissociation.

But dissociative identity disorder, that's a different thing. It's what used to be called "multiple personality disorder," and the full range of the disorder is only recently becoming known. It was thought, classically, to be rapid switching from one identity to another, but it is far more complex. There are shadow areas where multiple identities operate simultaneously, grades of consciousness, grades of awareness... When I use the phrase, "someone else is driving the bus," it can be anything from one identity seizing total awareness to the core identity (Cleo, "me") watching in horror while my body and all its behavior are being "driven" by some other consciousness.

That happens more often than people know. I have had entire conversations with people, watching in panic as things I would have never dreamed of saying in my right mind flew out of my mouth. I couldn't stop them. Screaming internally accomplishes nothing. Pleading internally for it to be over has no effect. I have lost jobs because of it. And worse. Nothing I can do stops it.

Until today. Triumph approacheth.

Some of you have heard me say that I can see through a brick wall in time. I am not normally a fast thinker. The obvious sometimes eludes me. Sometimes it takes forever for me to see a pattern. I'm just kind of slow that way. But understand, that BPD/DID combo, like I said, is almost its own entity. I do not embellish or exaggerate when I say it fights for survival. The fight to stay integrated every day...well, sometimes it's a battle royals. Thing is, though, that entity is almost entirely composed of parts of my subconscious. It knows all the tricks it needs to survive.

That means that this thing I finally cottoned onto today.. The pattern has been there for me to see for a long, long time. Today, for whatever reason, it finally became apparent. If spirituality bothers you, I apologize, but the other night, a 3-day BPD rampage ended with, again, me aghast at my behavior. But this time, there was something--the expression on my wife's face when it hit its peak--that I could clutch onto. I prayed. I prayed to the Goddesses to help me through, as I have before, but this time with leverage. I prayed to the Goddesses to teach me how to use that lever.

Here's what happened. Last night my wife said something that might have been mildly annoying to a normal person, but which triggered the cascade of emotions I have come to recognize as the beginning of an episode. I left the room so I could calm down and try to organize my thoughts. With some success, I came back to bed, but it didn't subside. When I awoke, the episode was still there waiting for me. Then came the usual cascade of what I call, and what my wife has come to dread hearing, "dumb shit." The volume wouldn't go down. The cat knocked my phone out of my hand. Taking off my headphones accidentally flipped my glasses off my face. The episode started building up to detonation.

After calming it down some, I talked with Callie about it. I told her she needed to know what was happening so she could cope with it. Then I noticed something was bothering her and asked if it was me. She said no, but said she didn't want to tell me because it would make matters worse. Then: the spark.

No, I said, tell me. If it has nothing to do with me, maybe this will give me a problem to solve that can take my mind off the episode.

As she told me, the pattern I have been waiting all my life to see finally unfolded before me. Years and years of similar moments came to me. How often, when I am in an episode, one of my kids, or a friend, or a loved one, will reach out to me for help or advice, and I make that problem my own. I focus all my analytical intensity on it. I dissect it. I sort it out. I take it apart, then reassemble it in a way that makes sense. At the end, a resolution.

And the episode is gone.

So for the first time, just today, came the conscious choice to fix someone else's problem in the hopes it would resolve mine. I've done it before, subconsciously, but today I made the choice, and it worked.

IT. WORKED.

Now, at long last, I have a strategy. I have to know I am in an episode. It has to be an actual issue. No brain teasers, nothing without consequence. It must be real, vital, and complex, and it must be someone for whom I care. But it can be done.

This year will complete my 59th and begin my 60th. I have been borderline since my early adolescence, maybe before. That is how long I have been searching for a resolution. It took until now to find it. Years of therapy, years of shadow work, years of medication. And it took me this long.

Triumph at last, and a euphoria not unlike gender euphoria. It's bittersweet, though. I think of all the hearts that wouldn't have hurt without it. All the damage done. The friendships lost. The loneliness. The guilt. The helplessness.

At least my remaining years have promise that none before did. Some people never get this far. My egg donor didn't. She never approached this. Until her last breath, she thought all her moods were justified. What I have is rare and precious. I am sorry my wife ever had to endure a moment of it, but she now knows she has my eternal gratitude for leading me here--and she has the promise that the future will be brighter, kinder, and calmer.

I'll take that. Eight days a week. Twenty-five hours a day.

[howlsmovinglibrary]

All of the question tags!!

Damn, it seems that this is what happens when you run out of phone data and are away from wifi for a while. The 11 questions tags take over.

Imma gonna answer every tag that I can find in this one long post, and sweet jesus I’m not tagging anyone in this particular chain, for fear of starting some kind of infinite loop that eventually becomes sentient and takes over the world.

So, time to seriously overshare!!

From @books-are-portals​

1. Favourite mythological being (of any kind)?

It’s a tie between dragons and unicorns, and you know what that means…..FIGHT!

2. Least favourite drink?

I hate coke/diet coke/pepsi/cola. I’m quite intolerant to caffeine in large doses, so the last time I drank a glass of coke, at like 4pm in the afternoon probably about 8 years ago, it kept me away until 3am D:

3. What book(s) do you recommend for everyone?

The Wicked and the Divine comics. It’s hella diverse, the art is amazing, and it’s about insanely powerful magical pop star gods. EVERYONE SHOULD READ.

4. Can you touch the tip of your nose with your tongue?

No – I have both an incredibly small nose and a very stubby tongue.

5. Least favourite book protagonist?

Ummm, bar all the protagonists from classics that I could endlessly moan on about all day and all night (I’m looking at you, Pamela), I’m going to say Zoey from The House of Night series, for all her toxic slut shaming, double standards, and just generally horribly written narrative voice (‘bullpoopy’ is a word that will forever be branded on my mind).

6. What TV show/film makes you happy?

Brooklyn Nine Nine is my go-to happy tv show, Spirited Away/Howl’s Moving Castle are the film equivalent.

7. Favourite trope?

Anything where a platonic friendship (particularly between two women) gets prioritised above a romantic relationship.

8. What piece of fictional technology would you like to have?

An alethiometer from HDM – it tells you the truth, but not enough to stop you from being in control of your own fate (the beauty of a book about free will, I guess.)

9. Finish sentence: I didn’t get enough sleep last night because…

…my back aches from lugging all my books to storage.

10. Favourite food to eat when you’re feeling down?

To be honest, it’s probably toast (with peanut butter if it’s been a really bad day).

11. Can you knit?

I can, but I can’t knit well. If you want a scarf, I can, in theory, do that. Anything that isn’t just one uniform band of the same stitch and I am not the person for the job.

********

From @heretherebebooks

1. Have you ever fallen out of love with a book? Why?

There are a lot of standard answers: ACOTAR, Twilight, etc. but my most recent is Borderline by Mishell Baker – I really like books with ‘unlikeable’ protagonists so I gave this a very high rating on first review, but I didn’t realise how damaging this representation of BPD is until I read multiple own voices reviews on the subject.

2. What’s the strangest book-related dream you’ve ever had? 

I have a lot of book dreams which feature me as the protagonist in my favourite fantasy novels, but then when I try to use magic to defend myself my brain goes ‘but Emma, magic doesn’t exist’ and so I’m suddenly facing down a demon hoard with no powers whatsoever.

3. Have you read a book that you didn’t really appreciate until later on? 

Ash by Malinda Lo is the main one for this, because  I didn’t appreciate that Ash is not supposed to get with the unbelievably hot fairy prince…until I reread five years later and saw that the hot fairy prince is a dick.

4. What book would you like to see a musical adaptation of? (Bonus: any ideas for song titles?)

To be honest, I just want Starkid to do a ‘A Very Potter Musical’ version of Cursed Child and watch the fanfiction of the fanfiction.

5. Have you ever thrown a book across the room? What was it? 

Ms Marvel Volume 4 (my ship was sunk…for now, anyway).

6. What book cover do you absolutely hate? How would you redesign it?

The Falconer and Dark Days Club UK covers are just super tacky – I’d take the Falconer US covers, and replace the Dark Days standard ‘pretty woman in fragile looking pose’ covers with either ‘plain looking woman fighting a fuck tonne of demons’ or just ‘fuck tonne of demons’, which is what the story is about anyway.

7. Have you ever cosplayed a character? Who?

I’m read this question at a con while dressed as Newt Scamander, so…. (last year I was Violet from the Rat Queen comics).

8. What’s the last book that made you want to scream from the rooftop? 

Six Wakes by Mur Lafferty (the thing I screamed was “MURDER. IN. SPAAAACEEE!” when my housemate asked me what it was about, although I was not on a rooftop at the time.)

9. What’s your favourite subgenre? 

My new favourite is ‘geeky contemporary’, bonus points if it’s ‘geek convention contemporary’ (Queens of Geek, Geekerella, Unconventional)

10. If you could bring an author back to life to write one more book, who would it be? 

I think Angela Carter could write one hell of a feminist YA fairy tale retelling, so I’m gonna bring her back.

11. Mug full of tea on your bed - yay or nay?

I just….I don’t live life this dangerously xD

*********

From @bookcub:

1. Who was the last character you related to and what were they from?  

Luca from The Burning City by Amanda Foody – he was basically the reason I kept reading that book, which otherwise wasn’t really my cup of tea, despite being a perfectly good book. He was the love interest, and was explicitly demiromantic. Although I’m not entirely sure where I place on the ace spectrum, and also felt that his portrayal was a little bit too cut and dry – with no sexual attraction until the MC shows up and then all the sexual attraction immediately at once with not really any grey area – his indifferent attitude towards sex as a general concept until those feelings latch onto a specific person, and his hesitation surrounding how to handle a relationship when it’s not something he’s has to consider before that point, were both very relatable for me. It certainly fitted my experience a little better than Tash Hearts Tolstoy.

2. What’s your favorite genre of music? 

Hmmm…there’s a wide range but I guess singer songwriter covers it? I care more about a song’s lyrics than what genre it’s in.

3. Which tags on tumblr do you follow and why? 

*whispers* I still don’t really understand how following tags works…..(someone plz explain)

4. Do you have any book related jewelry? 

I have a necklace of an owl delivering a Hogwarts letter, and Howl’s earrings from the Ghibli movie.

5. Thoughts on booklr being dead? 

I think the parts of booklr that were active a few years ago might be dead, but that’s just one specific group of people and they’ve probably moved on for a reason. Given it’s only in the last year or so that I’m getting notes and making friends, if booklr truly is dead then it seems that I’m either a necromancer, or having one hell of a party in the graveyard.

6. What are some of your favorite picture books from when you were a kid?

We’re Going On a Bear Hunt is the classic (my parents used to sing it to me to get me to go on hikes). When I could read for myself, Varjak Paw. 

7. What’s the first book you remember reading or being read to you? 

My dad read me the first and half of the second Harry Potter books on the Eurostar train from London to Disneyland Paris.

8. What’s your favorite dystopian novel and why? 

Hmmm, I’m not really a fan of dystopias all that much (more of a fantasy person), but I really like the Wolf by Wolf series, which I think counts due to it being alt. history, and The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood. The first because a) it has fantasy elements, and b) A* character development over the duology. The second because it was the first ‘literary’ book I read for school and enjoyed, and because the TV show has been one of my favourite things this year.

9. Where do you get/buy most of your books? 

Truthfully, Amazon. I’m trying to do better now that I’m no longer strapped for cash.

10. Favorite animal? 

Cats. Fluffy, smooshy faced cats in particular ^^.

11. What book release are you anxious for (one you know the release date for) (yeah that means not Doors or Stone) 

It’s a toss-up between The Stone Sky by NK. Jemisin (which is out like, next week!!), Provenance by Ann Leckie, and Warcross by Marie Lu.

**********

From @accidentalspaceexplorer:

1. What do you think of science fiction?

I think it is good when written well, where the focus on world building doesn’t leave the characters one dimensional. Unfortunately I also think it is coded masculine in a number of ways - the focus on a ‘logical, technological’ world rather than ‘illogical’ femme coded magic  -  which means that sometimes I find it quite an frustrating and alienating genre. 

2. What’s one of your pet peeves?

Mansplaining. Currently there’s this really horrible man at my book club who keeps trying to explain narrative to me and I’m like, dude, I’m an English Literature graduate.

3. If you could pick one magic system to exist in real life, what would it be?

Oh, fuck. There’s so many that would be amazing, but I think the main I always gravitate back to is Elemental magic a la the Avatar universe, because that was the first type of magic system I fell in love with.

4. What is your favorite tree?

Cherry blossom

5. Do you have any plants around the house?

I do not own any personally, but my housemate has like fifteen spider plants to which I like to think I am a caring godmother figure.

6. What is the book with the weirdest premise that you’ve read and would recommend?

The Jane Austen Project - time travellers go back to Regency era Britain to befriend Austen and try to steal one of her lost manuscripts.

7. Have you loved books for as long as you can remember, or was there a particular event that sparked you becoming a reader?

As long as I can remember - I remember giving a presentation in class about how I was going to be any author at age 9.

8. What is your favorite recipe?

Lemon meringue cake - cake, lemon curd, a fuck tonne of meringue, what’s not to love?

9. Do you reread books? If not, why not? If so, what’s one that you reread again and again?

Yes. Always reread. My three main ones are The Dark Days Club, Uprooted, and (of course) Howl’s Moving Castle.

10. What’s your favorite weather?

Cold sunshine in winter. 

11. Do you read every day?

Pretty much (I read on my lunch break at work).

I think that’s every outstanding question answered - sorry if I’ve missed anyone!

[karmalovefate]

I Get So Scared ;

the way I love is unlike any other. the way I love is intense & immense. it will never be topped. I know for a fact, I will never meet anyone within this lifetime that can carry the capacity of the way I love & feel like I can. I feel so deeply. & it hurts me, just as much as it scares me. one thought has been on my mind as of lately. or really, ever since it happened. over the summer while I was in Arizona, during my birthday wknd, when my boyfriend came down- we went to a psychic. what she said, keeps replaying over & over again. she told us good things that both of us needed to hear. but the reason I believed her wholeheartedly is bc of what she told me at the beginning of the session. when she looked me dead in the eyes & told me she knew the reason why my mother killed herself, when she didn't know anything about it. she told me it was bc of her pain. her pain was so deep & profound- but it came from a place of love. she loved so hard. so deeply that it killed her. she loved even deeper than me, but the psychic told me that I love just the same way. & that completely terrifies me. my 1 year anniversary with Paul is coming up on October 1st & I am seeing him this upcoming week to celebrate. but as of lately I know I've been a lot for him. he never makes me feel like I am, but I know it's true. how could it not be? most days, I forget that I have bpd. I forget that I will always struggle with having a good day & feeling like I deserve good things. I forget that if someone says one unkind thing to me, it will stay with me for years almost as if it's permanently burned into me. I forget that if I have a bad day, i'm going to have to fight the urge to cut up my arms & legs. I forget that I don't & will never feel things the way a normal person does. that my highs will be so high that I'll never want to come down, but in turn, that my lows will be the lowest that I'll never quite know if I can crawl out of them. but as of lately, I can't ignore my bpd. it's been screaming so loudly. & it's insistent. it reminds me of all the things I've tried so desperately to forget. my boyfriend never makes me feel like i'm crazy. I have a million break downs, & he's still there at the end of them, telling me i'm beautiful & that he loves me for me including the flaws. but I look at him & I wonder if it's fair. I think we could live a hundred lifetimes & I still wouldn't deserve him. he's purity personified bc he is everything that is good. he makes my dark not feel so heavy. he makes me want to be a better woman, not just for him but for myself. I have loved boys very hard before. read over my blog through the years, & you can see that. but looking back through all of that, I realize it was never true love. it was never in love. the relationships of the past were only based on ; infatuation, lust, or the need for codependency. I don't miss any of that bc now I know what true love feels like... it's when you look at that person & you know you want them as your life. they can be at their ugliest, & all you see is them radiating beauty. it's when you want to procreate with the person. when you want to grow old with them. how you never tire of hearing them talk or lose interest in their minds thoughts. I have that now. but i'm still scared. I know I have found my soulmate. I know that he won't give up on me & that I will not give up on him. I'm scared bc the way I love is so deeply. it's a tornado & a hurricane. will we ever be able to dance in the rain or will the winds bring too much change? will I become too much? like a rose, how can something so beautiful, thrive in such immense darkness? how can I keep myself from hurting it or unintentionally killing it? I've found my love & my light. but what if I ruin it bc I am ruinous? I get so scared. -b.

[hawkingbishop]

1/30/19 (cw: transphobia, homophobia, mental illness, bullying, trauma)

(tldr: ive lived a fairly self-imposed sheltered life and only recently have i started living and socializing. my past experiences with all sorts of bullying and other traumas have made it hard for me to have any type of lasting/healthy relationship. i am still learning. i dont ever mean to offend or hurt anybody. if i do will you please call me out on it and help me? thank you! i love you!!)

i wanted to talk to all my friends and family and whoever else might read this.

as most of you probably know i have borderline personality disorder, ptsd, adhd, anxiety, depression, and gender dysphpria. all of this has made it exceedingly difficult for me to make and keep friends and relationships of all kinds.

one of the hallmarks of bpd is "trying everything to avoid real or perceived abandonment". that means that im scared everyone will reject me or abandon me. if i think someone is going to abandon me i usually go into overdrive and try to apologize to them and try to fix the situation, but most of the time there is nothing to fix or apologize for. most of the time its just my paranoia. but in doing this i usually end up pushing them away. like a self-fulfilling prophecy.

i am clingy and needy and desperate for attention and affection. growing up i never really made lasting friendships/relationships. my first best friend moved away in 6th grade. i never knew my father. my cousin/best friend died when i was sixteen. and a multitude of other "abandonments".

in elementary school i think i developed the coping mechanism of being the class clown in order to get attention and to be liked. but in doing so i never really got to know anyone as more than an acquaintance or school/work friend.

and i guess i started being open and honest about myself to everyone in hopes of reciprocation? i dont know.

but add in gender dysphoria to that and things get more complicated. i grew up being bullied and told i was gay, girlie, a faggot, feminine, and all sorts of shit. so i grew up getting taught that the way i felt was wrong. i was a boy not a girl. and i could never be one. so i pushed those feelings down and tried to ignore them best i could.

in doing that i think that started the heightening of my depression/anxiety. i was depressed because i was ignoring who i am. i was anxious because i was afraid to do or say the "wrong" thing and make people hate me and disown me.

adhd made it hard to concentrate in school and work. it got much worse as i got older. in my school days i used multiple coping mechanisms to help the adhd, like be alone to be able to focus better.

because of the bullying and some assault as i got older i also have ptsd. which i think just compounds the fears of rejection/abandonment. im afraid of it happening again.

and you cant get hurt by others if you dont associate with anyone. so ive isolated and avoided most of my life. which made the depression/anxiety worse too.

all of my disorders and illnesses combined to make me what i am today: a grown woman whos really only three years old and whos super clingy and needy but doesnt know how to really go about correct or healthy ways of getting the attention/affection i need. i give myself to everybody and get hurt most of the time because of that.

and i sometimes say/do things that hurt others. unknowingly of course. because i never really learned how to socialize properly. ive basically only just started living my life around 2016. so thats only three years of friendships and relationships. and even then, before now, ive only had two real relationships. and both ended badly.

i always try my best but sometimes i fall short. sometimes i misunderstand people or dont understand them at all. sometimes i feel really stupid because of this.

pretty much all of my friends and family have a better understanding on how to live. theyve been social much longer than i have. everybody else seems to have much more experience with peopling.

i make mistakes often, but i always try to learn from them. im always trying to better myself. ive been in mental health treatment for about 13 years or so? its just really hard for me to instill all of that knowledge into myself. i try as hard as i can to implement all of the coping mechanisms ive learned over the years, but i tend to fall back on the unhealthy ones. like overeating, isolating/avoiding, sharing too much, etc...

so i guess what im trying to get at here is: im very sorry to all those i have hurt with my words/actions. i would never in a million years wish to do that to anybody regardless of who they are or what kind of person they are. i always try to be a good, respectful, trusting, kind person. but i fail sometimes. as we all do. it just takes me failing the same thing multiple times to fully understand where i went wrong.

i am trying. i am trying so hard. please be patient with me. and if you can, please help me figure my way out in this complicated world. i need you all and sometimes its hard to ask for help. so heres me asking: help me be the person i know i can be, the person you all need.

thank you. i love you all.

-Rebecca Philippa Ann Tollingworth

ps. if you need me to clarify or expand on any of this ill be happy to. or if you have tips/advice, etc... just shoot me a private message.

pps. i forgot to talk about my weight. along with the homophobic/transphobic bullying i received there was also fatphobia. i was always called fat and chubby and ugly. so this definitely played a role in my aforementioned hesitance to socialize.

my self-esteem was so low for so long for so many reasons. and because of that i had a hard time actually getting close to people. its one thing to be near a person and spew your story but its a whole entirely different thing to actually first trust them enough to share, and know they actually care and want to listen.

if you scream into the void its unlikely to scream back. if it does then youre probably in some eldritch horror nightmare realm and you should fucking run my dude.

[chasing-rabbits]

Sometimes I really wish I didn’t have bpd. I’ve tried to learn to not be at war with my illnesses because for me it’s been really harmful to view my mental illnesses especially my bpd as something that is this dark cloud or evil presence surrounding me.

Often you see depression depicted as this dark menacing monster shadowing the person and whilst that might be applicable for depression bpd is as much a part of me as autism is a part of people on the spectrum. What I am trying to say is bpd is such an integral part of me and affects so much of me that it’s not that unlike autism and in fact some psychologists have made comparisons between the two in terms of how to view and look at bpd as an illness. And it really resonated with me. You see depression it can be the big mean scary monster under your bed because if you remove depression you don’t lose a part of yourself if anything you gain part of yourself back something that you thought you’d lost. If you take away my bpd you take away a lot of what makes me who I am. It’s the same as with autism you can’t remove the autism without removing an integral part of who that person is because it affects you in so many ways and not in bad ways either not necessarily and that’s how I feel about my bpd it’s so affected they way I perceive the world and others in it that it’s affected who I am so deeply and how I interact with others and the world. So I worked really hard to not be at war or classify my illness as an evil demon because really I was calling a lot of what made me me evil because you just cannot separate the two. It’s not all of who I am and it doesn’t define who I am but it is a part of who I am. It led to a lot of shame and guilt about myself. I’d written so many poems about how the ‘evil’ was me and how I felt the only escape was to get rid of myself because I couldn’t get rid of it without getting rid of me. I tried to accept it for all it was in all the bad and the good because it does have some good parts to it. Albeit at the moment the ‘good’ parts seem to be paling in comparison to all the bad. But sometimes on nights like these I really really wish I did not have my bpd and as much as I want to sit here and treat it like the big bad monster and hate it and scream at it I can’t because I’m just screaming at myself I’m just hurting me and I’m just going to hate myself more for not being able to rid myself of it. Because it’s not that simple and god I wish it was. I wish I could say it was a big monster because if I did then it would be acknowledging that there is hope that it could be removed from me. That it could leave and be treated and just poof gone. (I know it’s not that simple and I’m not minimising depression I also suffer with depression well specifically bipolar I’ve got medication that seems to be helping and I’ve not had a manic episode (a full one) since 2020 and sometimes I just wish it was ‘as easy’ as pills - also I know it’s not that easy I went through almost every medication available to me to find one that worked - I almost ran out I feel like I have to keep adding these clarifications in because I don’t want it to be taken the wrong way this is just how I feel about my two very different disorders and their two very different treatment methods). I am stuck with my bpd and I don’t know how to not hate it in these moments.

[ps2graphics]

.

[rememberingpunday]

Just gonna do a little scream into the void right quick while I know no one's online

I can't sleep bc my brain won't shut up. Everything going on in the world is stressing me out along with work and not seeing my bf, like, ever. I literally run out of spoons the second I wake up it feels like. When people text me I want them to leave me alone. It's money anxiety and BPD anxiety and oh shit everyone hates me bc I'm like this anxiety and my brain is always at work even when I sleep I have work dreams. I can't escape it! So also work anxiety. I feel like if I could get a better job (one where I don't have to work with children, or rely on the public for my income), then I would be in a better headspace. Getting a new job is much easier said than done, though. I found one that would be perfect, but my resume isn't sending for some reason and the company has to have it before 10am today, so that is beyond frustrating. It feels like I'm in a bad dream. Like, no matter how hard I try nothing is ever going to work out, or make sense and I'm just going to be angry, frustrated, and unlikable forever. I hate feeling so powerless to my emotions. I hate that my brain doesn't want me to keep living. It keeps telling me to give up. And all of the content I read online, where I go to escape reality, is "youre a piece of shit if you don't spam everyone with this content" "if you don't solely consume this content, then go ahead and unfriend me because you're scum" listen, I'm tired. I have a shit ton of problems in my own life that I'm already working about and now I am bombarded with content that makes me hurt and mourn and cry at every moment of every day and I don't have the energy to be the young spritely activist that everyone seems to have become over night. And according to their posts that makes me racist. And then I get worried about that!! "Am I really racist?" I ask myself even though just yesterday I shouted with passion in defense of black people that couldn't even hear me just to educate another white person that was ignorant. "Am I racist because I can't go out and protest because I have to go to work to keep a roof over my head and barely feedyself with what's left over?" All of my friends would say yes. Is it ignorant for me to believe that black voices are what should be heard right now? What I have to say on the matter is unimportant. As an ally, I believe that I should actually be silent unless I'm amplifying a black voice, or stay silent until I need to educate another white person, or stay silent until someone needs my help. Every morning I wake up and scroll through tumblr and facebook to look at memes and some educational content to start my day I'm a good headspace. And now all I see is content showing me police brutality, protestors being gassed and shot, black people dying, white people denying everything they see and being ignorant af, other white people shouting that everyone that isn't sharing the content should burn in hell and they're obviously superior to all other white people and I now start my day stressed and crying and unable to do anything. Idk maybe I am a pos for feeling like this. I recognize that black people don't get to go about their lives and ignore racism and that I have privilege to not have to think about it everyday, but I'm not mentally strong enough to have zero escape from my stresses and also take on the stresses of an entire group of oppressed people. If someone did read all of this would you be able to explain to me more of the point of view for those posts about not being a true ally unless you share everything. Or maybe tell me I'm allowed to feel this way. I promise that if this comes off as racist that it's from a place of ignorance and not intentional plus I'm very tired yet unable to sleep

Thank you