Wayward AF

anything bpd, lgbtq+ and fantasy related

[anezkadragon]

I don’t wanna feel like dying everyday anymore.

[anezkadragon]

I knew you would leave me and hurt me eventually

… but I let myself dream. Stupid naive, little me

[anezkadragon]

My latest fp used to be there for me all the time. He made me feel so special, so seen.

Of course I fell in love. Of course I was pretty stable.

And now I know we’re gonna get out of touch.

I just wanna die. My heart is so fucking broken, so dead.

I guess it’s back to my old self. It was too good to be true anyways.

[anezkadragon]

My boyfriend is no longer my fp.

And to be honest it’s a bit weird.

[anezkadragon]

I thought I had dealt with it.

Now I am reliving it all over again und it hurts just as bad.

[anezkadragon]

My bpd emotions are so fucking draining most of the time.

But if I happen to like you, I will like you so bad and with so much passion we will both float high above the clouds. I will carry us both. I swear.

Until you leave or I will first, so you won’t.

[anezkadragon]

I really, really can’t bare these feelings anymore.

I know I am repeating myself over and over again. But nothing the fuck ever changes.

My entire body is aching.

All I can think about is dying, s*** h*** and ending it all. 

I really can’t do it anymore.

I just don’t wanna feel anymore.

[anezkadragon]

Been dissociating all day and now I lay here, finally alone, wondering what I said and did and whether it was perceived as appropriate.

Fuck fuck fuck

[anezkadragon]

Everywhere I go I feel wrong and out of place.

[anezkadragon]

I can’t keep pretending anymore.

Everyday I act as if I care.

About life, work, friends, colleagues…

I smile, I laugh, try to be funny, I act the way I believe people want me to be, but I really, really don’t care. And I don’t even like any of them. Not even a little bit.

I have always been pretending and I can’t stop it, even if I try. It’s an automatism. I don’t know how to make it stop.

But I just can’t bare it anymore. I feel like I’m dying.

And at home alone I break.

[anezkadragon]

This is for everyone that hates therapy but does it anyway. I feel you.

(There are too many people out there that “just feel great after a session” and „enjoy therapy“.)

[anezkadragon]

I really wanna tell you it gets better but that’s just not true.

Some days you might believe it.

And then it gets bad again.

[anezkadragon]

The outside world is scary.

[anezkadragon]

Ever made up some physical sickness too explain your absence from work because you were too afraid to just tell them you are too depressed?

I don’t know. Just seems better than: „sorry. Your environment made me feel really helpless these last couple weeks and I just couldn’t get out of bed anymore. And then I lied on the bathroom floor crying and with a blade to my wrist.“

[anezkadragon]

The fucked up thing is that high-functioning or quiet bpd makes me appear fine no matter how bad it actually is.

Outside I am whoever this bubbly person is.

The mask appears automatically, even if I don’t want it to. I just have to leave for the bathroom a lot to let out some tears and anger.

At home I have constant breakdowns, s*** h***, am depressive and can’t get shit done.

[anezkadragon]

I will not be able to contain this any longer.

I am gonna explode.

Too many emotions. Too much of this feeling.

I just wanna shut myself off.

And I don’t know how!

[anezkadragon]

I wanna quit life.