Self-Dx'ers. More specifically, self-dx'ers of BPD. Think it’s time we had a chat.
So you’ve “got” BPD. Congrats! Welcome to the club! Here’s your membership card, and responsibilities.
Wait, what? Responsibilities?
YUP! That is right! You have a disorder that makes you act in a way that isn’t appropriate! So you’ve got to stop trying to use that card, cuz this isn’t Monopoly and you can’t get outta jail free!
So tell me, what meds are you on? Not for the BPD, of course, but the co-existing disorders? Oh, none? Jeez, that’s real bad news! You must be a suicidal wreck! You should sue your therapist!
Wait, you don’t have one? Oh dear, that’s not good. You might want to get one before the soul-crushing lack of identity tears you apart, and you literally can’t trust anyone and are scared of people!
What? You don’t have those symptoms? You like some people? Well surely you can still have BPD! I mean, it’s a spectrum disorder, so there’s other symptoms.
Hrm, extreme emotions? Yeah that’s a real bitch, ain’t it? Puberty sucks. But wait, it’s not puberty, you’re mentally ill? Nah, see, there isn’t a way to tell the difference.
I want you self-dx'ers to look me in the fucking eyes and tell me what you go through with BPD. Tell me just how badly it fucks your life up. Because my condition is NOT your fashion accessory, it’s the reason that, while sober and on good meds, I can STILL have breakdowns. It’s the reason I’m in therapy. In DBT.
Done being polite. I’ve met nice self-dx'ers who literally have no access to confirmation, but the rest of the “uwu BPD is so pretty” is disgusting, it’s become the new emo.
I’ll be on pills the rest of my life. I’ll probably be in and out of therapy. Time. Money. Agony. My partner knows this. I’m not a fashion label, I’m the raw truth. I have a chronic brain condition that is not cute, not funny, and not a card I can play. I was terrified to tell my gf’s roommates I’m mentally ill. I can fucking function in society but I can’t shake this condition.
Shut your teenage mouths, get off the internet, and live a fucking life. Because this bullshit only screws us over.
Mental illness isn’t cute. If I have to try to hang myself with a belt again because my brain says too, I will scream.
I’m not a joke and I’m not some shirt you think is cute. Trivialize me or mock me for saying this. I don’t care.
I am mentally ill, and I will never approve of this mockery.
yousharknotpass
baratheonpilled
kaledo-art
