#tbpdfw

Tbpdfw :

you beg someone to get back with you because the only thing worse then being with them is without them.

Person: What’s it like living with bpd?

Me: I prefer my nightmares to my conscious thoughts sometimes,
That’s how bad it can be.

Me: I actually feel alright this is weird

Brain: well you shouldn’t, you Should feel ashamed..

Me: oh :( why?

Brain: don’t you remember all that horrible stuff that’s happened to you?

Me: oh yeah that was pretty horrible. Yeah your right I should feel shamed

*stares at the wall spaced out for hours unable to sleep

So, listen.

All my life I’ve been doing my best to keep up with others, to get things done, to move forward just fast enough. Now I’m 24, I finished school but I have no further education and I’m far, FAR behind of what other people achieved at my age. My mental illnesses got in the way and forced me to go much slower.

I grew up believing that I’d be something great, that I’d be successful and normal and fine. Now I’m a 24 year old self taught ghostwriter, still struggling with addiction, suicidal thoughts, social anxiety etc. and that’s not what I had in mind. But guess what? It’s ok. I’m alive, I’m slowly learning how to live this life and I’ve learned one thing of importance: life is not a race nor is it a checklist you can go through step by step. You can’t outpace your own abilities and the sooner you accept your limits without limiting your potential, the sooner you’ll move in the right direction.

I got better. I stopped cutting, I’m clean, I have a job, a fiance, an apartment. I have a life, a good one. I’ve spent the past four years creating it step by step, far slower than everyone around me. Just to wake up today, noticing I don’t want to live it anymore.

On the wall right behind the place my therapist sits during our appointments is a quote of Max Frisch, Swiss author. It says that crisis is a productive condition. You just have to take away it’s taste of catastrophe. I’ve spend a lot of time looking at that quote and even more time thinking about it. I hope some day I’ll be able to follow Max Frischs advice.

You ask me ‘who are you?’ and I collapse. Who am I? I have a name, but I can’t put myself in words. I’m changing. Every day, every single moment. I’m trying to accept, that I’m a work in progress, yet a masterpiece. I’m more than you could ever understand and still less than you expect. I don’t know who exactly I am and I don’t think I’ll ever find out. That’s ok. I am. I just am.

I am.

Five years ago I wanted to die. Three years ago I thought life would never be worth it. Today I’m still struggling, but that’s ok. I’m still here and I’m finally glad that I am.

After all these years of ‘I can’t’, saying 'I can and I will’ feels like finally breaking free.

Recovery is worth it, I promise.

Sometimes it’s my own temper that scares me most.

Friend: I have my last therapy session tomorrow.

Me: Wait…you mean people start therapy…and they’re done at some point?????

everyone’s emotions and experiences are real and valid. except for mine. i am not real, and not valid and should never be treated as such.

*Banging pots and pans together*
I NEED VALIDATION AND ATTENTION I NEED VALIDATION AND ATTENTION I NEED VALIDATION AND ATTENTION I NEED VALIDATION AND ATTENTION I NEED V-