Hostage

I am convinced. I will never get better. Meds or no meds. It’s here. It lives in me and it doesn’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon, if ever.

I met a new guy and it’s moving fast and I like it. He moved in today. I don’t give a shit about anyone’s judgments about how fast it’s happening so keep your comments to yourself.

I already feel my symptoms coming up. I’m tired of my kids. I’m tired of everything. I feel invisible and empty and not good enough for anything. I look around at all these people being alive and living and I feel like I’m trying so hard to be alive too but I don’t know how. So I’m just this invisible empty shell.

I hate life. I want to die. Fuck therapy. I went tonight and we laughed and stuff but just fuck it. I’m alone.

I wish life would take me like it took my dad.

Please take me.

Please.

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One thought on “Hostage

  1. I know what you mean about seeing other people living and just wishing you could do the same. It does seem that bpd is a constant battle. I know Nothing I can say will help right now but just know that you are not alone in these feelings xx

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