The Struggle is Real

Living with BPD is pure fucking hell.

If it weren’t for my kids and my dog, well if I weren’t already dead, I would be committing suicide instead of writing this fucking post.

I am so tired of not being able to handle anything. I just want to never feel again. Emptiness sucks but empty is better than all of this. This is overwhelming. Too instense. Intolerable.

I am in so much pain emotionally I feel like I will explode or just fucking break. I can’t function. I just need everyone and everything out of my life except for a select few who have proven to be good for me. That’s maybe about 5 people. This is my life. Lonely and unable to do absolutely anything about it because it all just hurts too damn much.


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