I Only Post On Here When I’m Drunk Or High.
I only post on here when I’m drunk or high.
I feel stuck between life and death, a sort of purgatory. My mind stuck in a realm of fiction and daydream. Is this normal? Surely it can’t be.
I see people around me, going on about their daily lives, the second I bring up the feeling of derealisation, they seem to shrug, unsure of what I’m speaking about.
It is an odd thought, to wish so badly you could rewrite your brain, and yet, another side of you thinking ‘but what will be you without me?’.
And so I sit in purgatory, surrounded by books, movies, character ai…
Never fully there. Never fully aware hat they are living in reality.
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When you need to work from home and still live with your parents.
And all of your safe foods are at work, and you just sit there with raging thoughts of “What am I going to eat? Shit. If I don’t have something small and low calorie then I’m going to binge, and if I eat anything in this house I’m going to binge, and if I -“
You know what I wish?
I wish I could speak to someone who understands what it’s like having an ACTAUL ED. Not just “oh my god I didn’t eat breakfast I’m so anorexic” haha. Fuck you.
I wish I could speak to someone who understands having to be a mother to your own mother.
I wish I could speak to someone who understands what it’s like to not know yourself because you’re always looking out for someone else.
Because you are always having to be the person who is there for everyone; the person that no one is there for.
The therapist.
The one who swallows their pride because how dare they have an opinion.
How dare they have feelings.
How dare they be a person.
How dare they be a person and not a therapist.
Me: “I’m hungry”
Also me: *grabs vodka and joint instead*
yeah, sorry i exhibited symptoms of the disorder i told you i have. it will happen again because i have that disorder and will continue having it. hope this helps!! 🫶🫶🫶
Quiet BPD in a nutshell:
“I can’t take it out on anyone else, so I take it out on myself”
“I’m scared of the day I explode”
“My knuckles are bruised and bleeding from punching my walls, but at least your face is fine”
if home is where the heart is, I can confidently say that I am homeless.
once i learn how to properly communicate and understand my own emotions it’s over for you bitches
Don't mind me, I'm just casually sabotaging all my positive relationships with negative delusions because my life doesn't feel real unless something dramatic and destructive is constantly occurring
Scream (1996)
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