Billie-the-scapegoat - Billie The Scapegoat - Cares Too Much For Her Good

Excerpt from a text convo between two Friends who both have BPD:

*edited for typos and clarity*

[...] I will do what Is in my nature to do.

I will beg the frog to take me to the other side of the river.

The frog will say no because it knows it cannot trust me.

And I will say: "you can trust me because if I sting you I too will drown".

And with its last ghasping drowning breath the frog will ask me: "why?" and I will say:

"Because it's in my nature".

As a person with BPD, I deeply identify with the scorpion in that story. I don't start out wanting to hurt the people that are helping me. I don't start out thinking about how much pain I can cause.

I ask for help from people who should know better than to trust me and I make it very difficult for them to do what I asked.

"Let yourself be loved", said my mother as she squeezed and pinched and bruied us with her hugs and kisses.

Don't be a "Limosnero con garrote" (begger with a club), my parents would tell us. They often found it difficult to meet our needs. And somehow, that was our fault.

Can a scorpion live without its stinger? Can a beggar carry a club? Can I stop hurting?

You are my favorite blog on this site. Also as a fellow ex-Catholic, I have a question. What was the metaphor that your church used for purity and virginity? Mine was a rose with plucked petals.

The rose with plucked petals was definitely one but I also heard a tape metaphor where having multiple partners was akin to sticking a piece of tape to mulitple different surfaces. Obviously the tape would lose its effectiveness and ability to stick to anything and somehow that meant you too would lose the ability to bond with your partner if you had a few sexual partners before them. From what I can remember, there seemed to be more of an emphasis on outright implying that you were dirty and used up if you lost your virginity rather than using analogies or metaphors.

Fun fact: without enrichment animals can suffer from depression and anxiety.

It's me. I'm animals. Work is not enriching enough

Caption this.

Just saw another "if you hurt people because of your faith you don't really have any faith" post, and wanted to point out once again that this weird thing we do where we pretend that "real" religion is incapable of doing harm isn't doing us any favors. Of course people with "real" faith can hurt people! Christians beat their queer kids because they have real faith that being queer gets you tortured forever after you die, and that beating kids is a 100% god-approved activity! India's beef vigilantes kill their Muslim neighbors because they have real faith that cows are sacred animals that shouldn't be killed!

Stop this No True Scotsman shit! All it does is cede the moral high ground in every situation to religious belief, automatically agreeing that religion makes you a better person, and anything that makes you a worse person can't be religion.

I don't know when I began to think that ignorance might be bliss. But not having the ability to "un-know" has been rotting our miserable human lives since Eve was convinced by a phallic symbol to eat "ThE FrUiT oF tHe TrEe Of ThE kNoWlEdGe Of GoOd AnD eViL"

Sex is wholesome.

Tell me I'm wrong. Go ahead!

You can't! I'm dying on this hill!

I cry for the butcher

Gold silver and copper

cake my tongue

No harm can ever come from

my mother's praying hands

My filthy mouth -

I harmed myself

Orange wedge lip

Clenched ivory threat

Pulled the trigger with my tongue

Blood orange

Her saintly hands

I’m sorry - a million times over

I say to her

And when i finally cry

It is not for the lamb.

Um so...

I tried avoiding conflict with my mom... but that turned into avoiding my mom...

On tuesday after a very intense phone call with her and an equally intense therapy session, I decided to go no contact.

I then hung out with friends, got embarrassingly drunk, woke up with a hangover that was less debilitating than I had hoped and blocked her on all my socials.

I didn't think ti was going to hurt *me* this much. I should be happy. But I feel guilty. I feel like I gave up too soon, like if I had hung on a little longer, then everything would have been ok.

But I know that's not true. I know that she uses the fact that I still have hope to rope me back in every time. And every time I fall for it.

I know I don't miss her. I know I miss the "in between" times. I miss the way she would behave when she was making up for having hurt me; when she was trying to "earn" the forgiveness I gave her for free. I miss how she would make me feel so safe and so loved, like I was the only one with who she could really be herself, like there was no one in the world who saw me like she did.

I know that all those wo derfull feelings come at the cost of hollowing out everything that makes me "me" to make room for what she wants me to be.

I know all that.

And It still feels like I fucked up. Like I should apologize and beg for her forgiveness and pray to a god I no longer believe in that she will welcome me back into a "home" that has only ever felt as calm and as safe as the eye of a hurricane.