Bit it's like, people are fucking daft. They really are. Unless you do something completely obvious, they simply won't grasp the hint. And maybe not even then. Like for instance, there was a period of time when I was sleeping literally every other day and for 2-3 hours at a time, and now, I'm sleeping about 12 hours a day out of nowhere. No one around me seems to be getting the hint that this isn't normal. They're just like, "oh good, you're sleeping again..." Yeah, "GOOD". Because to go from 0 to 12 hours just out of left field is completely normal.
-
IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT: Please read THIS THREAD about a rebrand for SF.
BPD Support Thread
- Thread starter Aurelia
- Start date
And if you try to explain otherwise, they think we're victomizing ourselves or just take pride in thinking we're "different and special" to get attention or whatever. There's nothing fucking special about feeling miserable, first of all. And there's a huge difference between attention and understanding/validation. I so wish sometimes that people with normal emotions could be inside our heads just for one day and feel what we feel as intensely as we feel it. Guaranteed, they'd be surprised that we're even still alive with what we feel on a regular basis. I sure am.
Thats basically what I did. It's addicting when you actually start seeing results. Especially if your weight is normal but there are still parts of your body you're not happy with, which was the case for me. So it became easy to just keep going and not stop until I went a bit too far. Of course, at that point exercise helps more than losing weight but not eating was easier for me so I did that. Just to be clear, it's not what I recommend.
When I was young, I didn't eat at all and was about 100 pounds. I was in the hospital a lot because of malnutrition, but my mother loved how I looked, so I just kept on that way and never took care of myself. After she died, I still don't take care of myself, but now I'm about 50 pounds overweight. I keep thinking about how if she were alive she'd hate me more than I hate myself.
I always knew that my mom had undiagnosed BPD and thought it was the worst thing in the world. I never thought I would have it. Some years back, when my therapist suggested I had it, I almost had a breakdown. It was hard enough to accept I was bipolar (just like my mom was) years before. I didn't think I could handle also being borderline--just like she was too.
But I've come to accept it I guess. I know how stigmatized it is, and for good reason. Who wants to have this illness? It's like (to me) having WPD (Worst Personality Disorder). Or, having Leprocy. No one wants to be around you. If they would ever find out what you have, they'd run. I have to keep this a secret.
That's okay I guess. I don't want to be around anyone anyway. But, I sure wish I could have a friend. Right?
I have stated before a few days back that I thought I did make a friend, but it already hasn't worked out. I always feel like it's me. Isn't that always the common denominator? But this "friend" said that mental illness doesn't exist and that antidepressants are the world's new opiate crisis. So I scared her away. I laid into her. I was very angry. I felt like I needed to stand for something (like, hurray opiates!--just kidding). No, I am a mental health advocate and can't have people that are supposed to be my friend telling me that my ailments don't exist. Fuck her.
Anyway, that one is over. Another dead body in my wake. A line of bloody bodies behind me.
But now, I have met a new victim, or, er, uh, I mean, a new friend candidate. In fact, I am feeling obsessed already because we have so much in common. I am SCARED. I don't want to scare them off. I want to be careful not to make any mistakes this time. I really want to build a relationship with them. I like them a lot. They are the only other person I've met in my town who is also nonbinary and near my age, and they are also an artist. This is rare, and we have lots in common on top of that. They could be potentially a great person for me...but what if I fuck it all up again? I already feel rejected when they have to get off text to go grocery shopping. I'm pathetic. I hope they never find that out. I hope they never find out I have this fucked up illness.
So frustrating. Now I can't fucking type because I keep getting interrupted and I feel like I'm about to have a rage attack. I hate myself!
But I've come to accept it I guess. I know how stigmatized it is, and for good reason. Who wants to have this illness? It's like (to me) having WPD (Worst Personality Disorder). Or, having Leprocy. No one wants to be around you. If they would ever find out what you have, they'd run. I have to keep this a secret.
That's okay I guess. I don't want to be around anyone anyway. But, I sure wish I could have a friend. Right?
I have stated before a few days back that I thought I did make a friend, but it already hasn't worked out. I always feel like it's me. Isn't that always the common denominator? But this "friend" said that mental illness doesn't exist and that antidepressants are the world's new opiate crisis. So I scared her away. I laid into her. I was very angry. I felt like I needed to stand for something (like, hurray opiates!--just kidding). No, I am a mental health advocate and can't have people that are supposed to be my friend telling me that my ailments don't exist. Fuck her.
Anyway, that one is over. Another dead body in my wake. A line of bloody bodies behind me.
But now, I have met a new victim, or, er, uh, I mean, a new friend candidate. In fact, I am feeling obsessed already because we have so much in common. I am SCARED. I don't want to scare them off. I want to be careful not to make any mistakes this time. I really want to build a relationship with them. I like them a lot. They are the only other person I've met in my town who is also nonbinary and near my age, and they are also an artist. This is rare, and we have lots in common on top of that. They could be potentially a great person for me...but what if I fuck it all up again? I already feel rejected when they have to get off text to go grocery shopping. I'm pathetic. I hope they never find that out. I hope they never find out I have this fucked up illness.
So frustrating. Now I can't fucking type because I keep getting interrupted and I feel like I'm about to have a rage attack. I hate myself!
Oh, my entire family NEVER loved me, which is probably why I'm so fucked up. I swear I'm not just saying that either to be dramatic. My mother sexually abused me when I was five, mentally abused me for the rest of my life.
Recently, my brother stopped speaking me because I am trans. But it's okay that he was on crack most of his life and made our whole family's life a living hell. He took all of their money too. Now, only he and I are left (everyone is dead), and he doesn't want to speak to me because I'm trans. He has their money though. Not that I care about money. It's just that it's gross/he's gross.
But I actually don't want to have anything to do with him either. He's made my life miserable. He always loved his friends more than me His friends that molested me when I was a kid. Same friends. He makes excuses for them. He makes me feel like I am a crazy person for having all these feelings of intense sadness and anger. And this is one of the very reasons I want to die.
Recently, my brother stopped speaking me because I am trans. But it's okay that he was on crack most of his life and made our whole family's life a living hell. He took all of their money too. Now, only he and I are left (everyone is dead), and he doesn't want to speak to me because I'm trans. He has their money though. Not that I care about money. It's just that it's gross/he's gross.
But I actually don't want to have anything to do with him either. He's made my life miserable. He always loved his friends more than me His friends that molested me when I was a kid. Same friends. He makes excuses for them. He makes me feel like I am a crazy person for having all these feelings of intense sadness and anger. And this is one of the very reasons I want to die.
Addiction is something I do get because I've struggled with it too, but that in no way excuses his behavior toward you. If anything, a brother should be protective...of you, that is, not his friends. And that's regardless of whether he's younger or older. As for gender, I think the entire concept is stupid, which is why I've always defined myself as pan. There's no clear definition of male/female and never has been, even though some people like to think otherwise. To me, that makes no difference; it's who you are as a person that matters, and that doesn't change based on what gender you choose to define yourself as. But yeah, family is often not accepting of that. I've never come out to mine as pan for that very reason. And I'm right there with you on the sexual, physical, and emotional abuse. They think I'm a liar, though, about the first two, and the third they'll also deny until they're blue in the face. I will say that it's thanks to them I have a roof over my head right now, but still doesn't excuse everything else. They like to think it does, but it doesn't.