this is a poem i wrote about a boy who broke my heart in 2014. recently, he reached out to me and we are now dating..my heart is full

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this is a poem i wrote about a boy who broke my heart in 2014. recently, he reached out to me and we are now dating..my heart is full
https://www.instagram.com/p/BdpKm5bgtB-/
https://www.instagram.com/p/Bqr45U3FdtA/
there is a world inside of me that isn’t connecting with the world around me breathe in breathe out how will i make it through
t.m.
https://www.instagram.com/p/BpW9PklhibB
12/07/18
I’m stuck in this mindset that nothing will ever change for me. I don’t really want to die the way I used to. I wanted to die to make people feel bad, to feel guilty. It was malicious. I was hurt, and I wanted to hurt myself to hurt other people. But now, when I think about killing myself it’s a sad idea. There are so many things I want to experience in my life. I have hobbies and friends that I love, my family is wonderful and they love me. I’m no longer in denial about my importance to other people like I once was. If anything, the fact that I am aware of my presence in other people’s lives makes it infinitely more difficult when I have suicidal thoughts. I guess what it boils down to is I have an intense sadness behind everything that I do. I can be doing something I completely enjoy, but the whole time I’m never fully there. There is always a part of me, screaming in the back of my head that I don’t deserve to be here. That I will always be sad, and unfulfilled. I always have an emptiness, and I always will. I don’t want to live a life constantly overshadowed by numbness. I hate that every happy emotion I have is fleeting and small. I know we are supposed to savour our good moments and appreciate them but they do so little to my mood. I wonder if I am just a very sad person by nature.
-Thal
https://www.instagram.com/p/BMwWZ8_DlWz/
Time to read this beauty 🍂
https://instagram.com/p/BZ0yD-lgwuj/
08/29/18
I love the way your taste lingers on my mouth You’re almost too sweet to bear, like honey dripping down my throat But you press your hands against my beating heart and I am so weak to your touch. Your breath could knock me over and I’d still crawl back for more I see God under your spell more than in any sermon, Speaking in tongues between my legs isn’t a language they know, anyway. I don’t need religion to know heaven is real; all I need is a night enveloped into you
-Thal
12/03/18
I never really thought about impulsivity until I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder. I never once described myself as an impulsive person. I was constantly overthinking things, weighing the pros and cons of every option in my life- how could I possibly be an impulsive person? I never bought anything too expensive without thinking about it for at least weeks before. I didn’t get any tattoos in a moment of excitement. I told my parents where I was going before I did almost anything. I had always done things that were concerning to some people, namely my parents, friends, and therapists. But none of it I had attributed to an impulsive streak.
When My therapist first brought up impulsivity as a symptom of BPD that he had noticed in me, I didn’t understand what he was talking about. And it started to dawn on me, that maybe someone can be impulsive without necessarily acting impulsively. The more I thought about it the more I started to understand some of my own behaviours. While I wasn’t someone who neglected the possible outcomes of any of my actions, I often proceeded with the riskier option anyway. I know in a sense that this kind of counters the entire definition of impulsivity, because we think of it as the tendency to act without thinking. And if we’re thinking only in this sense, then I guess I am not an impulsive person. But I began to work on a definition of impulsivity that fit to my behaviours. I thought about the dangerous consequences of things, but I neglected them. Or rather, I thought about them and chose them because of the danger associated with them. Knowing the possible consequences does very little to hold me back. If anything, the potential for a dangerous outcome makes it almost more difficult to resist.
There does reach a point though, where I feel like I’m not in control. I think I’m enough of an anxious person that I could never really do anything that dangerous without thinking about it first, even for just a split second. But there becomes a point where I’m not even sure I’ve decided, I can feel part of me saying “no” and part of me saying “why not.” At this point I don’t really have a though process, because I know deep down I will end up doing what I should not be doing. And even though I may not act impulsively in many facets of my life, there is a way that I carry myself that is impulsive in my nature.
I’ve tried to rationalize my decisions many ways over the years. Sometimes I think I’m just trying to live in the moment as much as possible. Why would it make sense to choose the safe option when something more gripping and terrifying is also an option? I think some of it stems from the blatant disregard for my safety that is the result of my depression. The truth is, I can rationalize it any way I want, that one day I will want to look back on the things I did do rather that what I didn’t do. But I don’t think in 60 years I will be all too proud of what I have done as an act of impulse when I could have kept myself safe. Truthfully, I think I am still caught up in the idea that I will not live long enough to regret any of my actions, so the fact that some things I do are quite dangerous have no real impact on whether or not I will proceed with them. I live with the thought that if one of my decisions kills me, then that’s what was meant to happen all along. It’s not even necessarily that I seek out dangerous situations to hurt myself, but if the opportunity arises I rarely ever say no. The fact that I will think about the possible consequences and proceed anyway tells me how little I value my own life. I am not impulsive in the way that I don’t think about things. But, I think there are different ways to define impulsivity. I think you can be impulsive with your life, your safety. I even think some of my forethoughts could be delusional, and in this case do they really count as sound thinking? Is it possible to be impulsive and still care? Are they mutually exclusive? I think it’s impossible to say for sure. Some people find a connection with impulsivity that explains erratic behaviour or harmful decisions. The introduction of impulsivity to my symptoms didn’t clear up very much for me. I hadn’t stumbled upon this type of decision making, it had always been there. I didn’t need an explanation for why I was making these decisions- I knew I was doing it. Is it possible to be aware of your impulsivity? Or does it exclusively have to be something you don’t even recognize about yourself?
-Thal
I am tired of trying to see the bright side of things. I’m tired of trying to make my life better. I do everything that I’m supposed to do. I work, I go to school and I genuinely try to do well in those things because I know it’s important for my future and because I don’t want to let anyone down by doing less than I am capable of, especially myself. I eat and sleep, I guess not as much as I should but definitely enough to survive and to be functioning on a daily basis. I really try my best to live so that I have everything I need to be happy, realistically. But in 7 years I haven’t gotten better. I do not feel any better or less depressed than I did when I was thirteen years old. I feel different, I’m older, more mature, and the way that I am depressed now is definitely different than back then. I feel less angry at the world but more hopeless. I’m tired. I don’t think it is ever going to get any better and I don’t have any reason for hoping that it will. I’ve given myself everything I could to try and be happy and it isn’t working and I am tired. I’m exhausted. I can’t get up anymore.