I am in a fit of fucking rage. I don’t even want comments to this post because they will just piss me off. I don’t want to hear how I should use fucking skills, or how I’ve been doing so well, or that this will pass. I hate when people tell me that it will pass. I don’t fucking care if it will pass, the problem is that it is here now and I fucking hate it! I don’t care that I’ve “done well” lately. It doesn’t feel well. All I do is struggle constantly whether it’s visible on the outside or not. I’m so fucking tired of having to try so god damn hard just to be fucking ok, and I’m never even really ok. I’m on one high or low or twist of the rollercoaster or another. I don’t even fucking know what it means to just be me. I don’t know what normal feels like. I don’t know what or who I am minus this fucking BPD. I’m so tired of feeling. I’m so tired of nothingness. I’m so tired of feeling empty and detached, or too fucking attached. I’m so tired of wondering what other people think and feel, because I couldn’t possibly imagine what a normal mind is like. I’m so fucking disgusted with myself. I’m so tired of feeling forgotten. I’m just so fucking tired of living.
That is how I feel right now. I’m going crazy inside and I’m having strong urges to self-harm. My mind is racing and one of the thought paths is the various objects and methods I can use to SH. I’m so angry I’m half sick to my stomach. I don’t even know why I’m so angry! Or maybe I’m not even angry because I want to cry too. I just don’t know. I wish I could runaway, or just put an end to things.
I hate me.