vinnysblackbook-blog

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someone: you forgot to eat? how?? aren’t you starving?

me: I don’t know I can’t feel anything

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nobody talks about how ugly taking care of yourself can be

yes, sometimes it’s taking a warm bath and texting memes to friends and keeping an aesthetically pretty journal.

sometimes it’s crying silently on your couch at 3am, hugging yourself and reminding yourself that you’re a good person.

self care is not always ‘aesthetic’ and cute…and that’s ok. don’t be embarrassed, just do what you need to do.

[vinnysblackbook-blog]

explaining my mood swings to others and trying to make it look simple be like:

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i don’t have the healthiest coping methods but i haven’t killed myself yet so where’s my fucking medal

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friend: hey!! how are you?

me: tired

friend: you always say you're tired

me: because i always am

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fp: *is upset*

me: .... my fault?

fp: not your fault.

me:

fp:

me: .... my fault?

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That constant struggle between “I can’t show my symptoms or I’ll be a burden” and “why doesn’t anyone realize I’m suffering?”

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Healthy coping mechanism ????? Don’t know her

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Me: *makes a small irrelevant mistake*

My Brain, banging pots and pans together: YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUC

Me: *makes huge mistake that will directly affect my future horribly*

My Brain, lounging on a lawn chair with shades on: ....acknowledged

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bpd thoughts: im too much to handle so I don’t deserve love

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I'm too high to sleep but I feel like I'm gonna pass out. Really weird combination.

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lol fuck this. I don't know how to even register this... Why the fuck are you here? I don't need this. I really don't. You're just going to make this worse.

[vinnysblackbook-blog]

I'm falling apart and no one fucking cares but the sister that'll actually still talk to me. Even my dad is telling me to 'man up and deal with it'. Yeah. I'll deal with the fact I want to throw myself off a fucking building to see how hard if hit the pavement and if the impact or the injuries would kill me first. I'll deal with the fact I wish it was me instead of Natalie. Everyone would've been so much happier had it been me who off'ed myself instead of her. My family would be, at least. I'm a fucking wreck with no one to turn to about it anymore. So I'll just drink, pop an other whatever and hope I drop dead somewhere. I don't wanna do this 'one year since you've been gone' shit. I fucking don't. It's not fucking fair. You were 19. You had so much to live for. If have done something, if have fixed it, if have handled it had I not been in jail. I did with Caprice, I brought Mariyah home when she ran away, I didn't tell dad that I found mom in the house with someone else before they divorced. I'm always the one to take the shit and then get bitched at for not doing it well enough when it's not my fuckin responsibility to begin with. I need an other shot and I need lines. I just don't even want to feel or think or function. I just don't.

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I should probably stop mixing booze with pills. but I'm probably not going to.

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When the person you like starts liking you back, and you get cold feet because you’re not used to your feelings being reciprocated.

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I knew I shouldn't have done that. I went looking because I can, because my stupid fucking hacker brain can't handle not fucking knowing. I knew I was fucked from the start. I'm just glad I can't unlock my fucking phone past a certain point of drunk or I'd have said a lot of shit that probably would've ruined what thin layer of friendship there is. I don't even know what's going on anymore. Whatever. I need a fucking drink and a god damn Valium. Fuck feelings.