trauma sideblog, yandere, bpd, depressed asf
I know I need a lot of confirmation.
But when I ask if you love me I really need to know.
I seriously have no idea. I need any kind of proof, cause I can’t feel it.
I can’t tell my thoughts from reality.
day nine hundred and fifty one of wanting to truly off myself because i’m so fucking lonely. living life rn is truly the fucking worst. i usually love having older friends but rn i hate it because this shit is so fucking awful, they’re all moving on in life and i’m stuck behind because life is currently kicking me around like a rag doll. life fucking sucks and being codependent on people sucks even more because now i’m all alone. i can’t just be upset at them for moving on in life because that’s so fucking unfair to them. even though it makes me feel like absolute shit and want to cry all day until i fall to sleep. being severely mentally ill and having a personality disorder on top of that makes me literally codependent on all of the people i love in my life is the absolute worst. because now i have to try to cope with being absolutely alone and going into the most stressful situation by myself. fucking hell i truly fucking hate life rn, life really just gets even fucking worse every time i complain about being at my lowest point in life. i should stop before i jinx myself even more because i truly don’t know how much longer i can take feeling like this. this is truly the most cruel mental disorder and it fucking shows.
Some people will be mentally ill for their lifetime and it won’t be because they didn’t try hard enough
- putting random objects in completely wrong places (like utensils in the fridge instead of the sink.)
-walking around with a random object in your hand for a reaaaaaallly long time.
-wondering where you put something for 30mins for someone to point out that you’re still holding it.
-if you hear someone in the background talking when you are speaking you add a random word they spoke to your speech.
-dressing the wrong way for hot or cold weather, looking crazy to the people that notice
-dropping your food on the floor because you forgot it was there then crying intensely about it.
-Starting on a thing, then another thing, then another thing, and eventually realizing nothing was finished.
-reading out loud and losing track of where you where so you re-read the same thing several times before noticing.
-introducing yourself more than twice to someone like it’s the first time you met them.
-”What was I doing or was I doing anything at all?”
-I HAVE TO PEE!! LIKE RIGHT NOW!
-Standing up to do something then forgetting what it was and sitting back down *repeat as necessary*
-Inappropriate laughter, because it’s funny to you but you don’t know why.
-having 100 tabs open on your browser.
-insanely random search history, one minute baking video’s, next minute discovering government conspiracies.
-yelling, crying,laughing for no reason
-sudden child like silliness
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feel free to add on and re-blog
A symptom of bpd people don’t talk about that much is the fucking restlessness that you feel when you haven’t done something horribly life altering in a while. It’s a g o n i z i n g
I was having a think about masking today. People normally associate masking with autism, but very few people know about the masking that borderline people do. It actually serves two different functions with us.
First, we mask like autistics do, in order to hide the “socially unacceptable” parts of ourselves from others. We can’t let them see our emotions, how we really feel about what they’ve said or how much they mean to us or how hurt we are. We mask so our passions don’t overwhelm others, so that our intensity won’t frighten them away. We mask because we don’t want everyone to leave us.
The other reason we do it is because it helps us relate to others. We pick a new mask for every situation, one that’s made precisely to help us through that situation. When we make a new friend, we mirror them so they won’t hate us. When we’re in a meeting, we pretend we’re polite or “professional”. When we’re at work, we put on the face of someone who doesn’t abuse themselves regularly. We find new people to be all the time and we live so many different lives.
But the reason we mask in this second way is because we have no self to go home to. When we are alone, when there’s no one else to reflect, we look inside and we don’t find anyone. We don’t feel like a person. We might experience an intense chaos of emotions, but there’s nothing holding them together, no me to refer back to. We mask because the person we could have been died from all the pieces being taken away by people who were supposed to love us.
the sexy thing about me is that i close myself off from other people because i’m afraid of intimacy then hurt my own feelings over not being as close with people as i’d like to be
really played myself there
knowing that i’ve spent all of my childhood mentally ill and severely traumatized makes me want to off myself, i’ll never get back those years. i hate the people that traumatized me. i was supposed to be safe, i was only a kid. my life has never been mine and that’s what hurts more than anything.
I hate when people say: “All your problems make you the person you are”. Like bitch I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore, I lost myself since this shit started, get the fuck out of my face.
