delivered to you wrapped in cellophane

I'm Kim. I'm 27. I live in New England. I'm fat and like it that way. My current diagnoses are BPD, GAD, and a couple others that I haven't quite started dealing with. I made this blog as a safe place separate from my main blog for me to talk about recovery, diagnoses, and just stuff pertaining to my mental health in general. I tag as much as I can, but please don't be afraid to ask me if I'm missing something you need tagged.

[incellophane-blog]

I haven't wanted to cut in forever. I really really want to tonight.

[incellophane-blog]

Falling asleep in a snow bank sounds nice Everyone would be like SHE WAS DOING SO GOOD siiiiiiiike!!!!!!

[incellophane-blog]

Haven't wanted to cut this bad in a long time And I'm supposed to be better HAHAHAHAHA hahahaha hahahahahaha

[incellophane-blog]

I want to die.

[incellophane-blog]

skip two doses of your meds binge eat for five days after a bad therapy session. spend sunday night wanting to die. no big deal, it's fine, this is all normal.

[incellophane-blog]

but if I wasn't here no one would have to worry about not choosing me it just eliminates the problem

[incellophane-blog]

*texts old fwb because I just need some fucking validation*

[incellophane-blog]

I fell asleep mid conversation with my mom, and woke up to her wondering why I stopped talking and giving me a one word goodnight, an accidentally ignored message from someone trying to make sure I'm okay, a message from a friend trying to talk to me about something serious, and a "we need to talk" message from my fwb. I feel like everyone in the world is mad at me and I keep making everyone upset and I just feel like I'm bad bad bad bad. Please ignore this, I'm just trying to shake this scary feeling off. I don't know how else to.

[incellophane-blog]

Having to drive when you're trying to resist the extreme urge to crash your car is fucking horrible.

[incellophane-blog]

to be honest I'm scared that I'm going to end up inpatient somewhere.

[incellophane-blog]

"you didn't forget to take your meds, that's a choice. you do it everyday, you know you need to do it." the fact that I take a pill and when I forget to take it I want to kill myself is really good most of the time but it's also fucking terrible and I want to stop and just forget it all together.

[incellophane-blog]

*wants to not be here anymore* *still reblogs porn*

[incellophane-blog]

You've felt this bad before and you will again but you got through it and you'll get through it each time.

Things my therapist said to me that made it worse.

[incellophane-blog]

I feel deeply affected by everything and no one knows what it feels like. I can't just brush it off. Or choose to move on. No one will fucking love me and I both desperately want them too and desperately want them to keep away. So. What do I even do with that.

[incellophane-blog]

-put a lot of hard work into planning a celebration for a close friend's pregnancy and the excitement of a new member of our clan and how wonderful and beautiful that all is -pull over on the way home because of the overwhelming feeling of Not Wanting To Be Here Anymore

[incellophane-blog]

in which I have a moment of clarity about something I don't talk about.

I have flashbacks to when I laid myself out for someone and was completely vulnerable because doing so and being hurt by that person hurts so much I equate it with feeling like I might die. Truly feeling full on fight or flight I won’t survive this emergent pain.

I was just sitting on the couch watching TV and this couple was on a train late at night and suddenly I was sitting there on a train with you, sobbing uncontrollably and feeling the eyes of the woman sitting behind us burning into me. It wasn’t the first or the last time I’d cry about being in public with you.

Who did I think I was? This impossibly large girl, so large that I’ve been myself for 28 years and I can’t even comprehend it most of the time. Being shown this whole other universe where I get to be with someone who was actually magic to me. I leapt, and this other life appeared, and I totally bought it. But every so often it was like I’d become so painfully aware of how far fetched it all was to me.

And once THAT was confirmed, that it really was far fetched, all those moments spent sobbing so hard and having so much of myself out there and being so scared became validated. So those are the moments I get sucked back to. Still. Those moments. And by the smallest things. By watching some fucking show where two people are on a train.

I hate feeling like I can’t talk about any of this, and honestly I’m done with that. I have all these stories that are so fucking loud sometimes and I have to get them out so I can stop screaming them to myself all the fucking time. I hate keeping bad shit to myself. I can’t do it. It feels like poison. And I’ve never kept so much stuff about one thing to myself for so long. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. But I can’t do that anymore.

[incellophane-blog]

Recent google search: How do you die without making everyone upset?