☔️🌊 I’m using this space to vent for a moment 🌊☔️
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
This is probably going to come as a shock to some, but I don’t have the strength to currently uphold the facade of different versions of myself, the work me, the home me and the online me are all very different people, all masking for that child that cries relentlessly in my head. She got her turn today, like many times before only I couldn’t calm her. I’m just the husk she runs in. I’ve been staring at the wall, listening to the same guitar riff for the last hour, simply bewildered by the fact that I’m still on this earth. It usually feels like borrowed time, I never really feel like I have enough of it. I’m shocked really. The simple breeze from my fan in my face stings my eyes today, like you used to say to me “I’ve never known a girl to cry as much as you do love”. God I miss that.
I’m exhausted, ive accidentally hindered friendships and stopped hobbies because of it. I’ve considered leaving my relationship, leaving my job and running. As if that were to somehow heal a void as old as time. I packed away every sharp object in this room to keep you safe and your spiteful about it, are you ever happy?
If you seen my hidden cries, would you even console me in a way deemed fit?
How can something so beautiful be so hatful at the same time. I’ve been binging for days to try and fill it. It never works. I just want to feel whole, like I’m searching for a home that doesn’t exist. She’s scared running in circles, I wish I could just throw her in the ocean.
I don’t truly trust anyone, I’m getting paranoid, my closest friends are setting traps for me. You made me this way.
I get sneaky and it feels gross. I’ve split on my psych, my main outlet. I ick over my relationship. I hate my parents. I yearn for deaths embrace. My sick reality at the end of the day. It’s been years and I’ve healed meer inches. I miss my baby. I miss old comforting smalls and sounds. I’m fucking drowning and you won’t save me. Why does it have to be me, always me to fix it. I’m now a whole person I can’t do it on my own, Jesus Christ I’ve prayed to a million different gods on a million different nights just to feel something. The endless emptiness that is BPD that people believe is manipulation is diabolical. I’m trying.
I think I need to go away for a while, the only difference between me and a psychiatric patient is I’m OUTSIDE
Why must I be two steps from the edge before you notice. I’m so tired.
