In another universe I was happy
Noah Kahan
šŖ¼
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@cedar2bug
In another universe I was happy
my favorite conspiracy theory is that they regret what they did to me
In another universe I was happy
It is becoming increasingly more difficult to alive.
My doctor and his nurse havenāt seen me in months but have also been the only people who have made me feel like a human. Like a living person. Simply by remembering something about me. The two people I never would have expected to remember anything about me decided to do so.
The alternative? People Iām around constantly. My family. Canāt remember anything. Iām not a person to them. They donāt remember I exist until they need something from me.
These people are supposed to love me and clearly donāt.
Even shittier, I canāt afford to live on my own. I have no friends. I canāt leave and they all know it.
I canāt check myself into a hospital because that would be attention seeking and selfish because of everything else going on in our family.
Iām not a person. So why should I stay living?
People hate me because I have BPD and itās likeā¦
ā¦baby, I donāt want to be this way either. They made me like this
bpd culture is never knowing when to pick your battles because everything feels like the end of the world or the most important hill to die on
.
š¾ššššš šøššš
This was a day a few years ago I felt I could be myself- felt allowed to be myself and exist without feeling bad about it.
There was peace in that walk.
I donāt know how to get it back.
Journal entry
Loneliness is eating me alive even though Iām surrounded by people who say we are friends only to leave me behind until they have a problem and need to talk.
i miss cutting on my wrists, but now i have to cut on my theighs so i dont get caught
Thigh cuts are disappointing. I want to cut my arms open so bad
Streams of red run down the curves of my legs
Spreading across my feet
Between my toes
Turning pink down the shower drain
Itās not enough
Never enough
Iāll never be clean of this āthingā inside me
Clawing at me
Trying to break free
I want it to break free
The streams of red are supposed to help
They never do
Now bubbly red streams slide down
Soapy red bubbles
Soapy pink bubbles glide down the shower drain
Can't stop thinking about how it's so easy for them to not talk to me, yet I become physically ill at even the idea of not having them around
I donāt know how many times i survived myself without telling anyone.
liability by lorde.