lovingshannen:

I hope that in 2020, you cut off people who tells you that you’re too needy, and too clingy because you ARE NOT. It’s not your fault if they can’t give you ENOUGH attention. So fuck them all. Someday, you will meet someone who will give you everything you need without begging.

peachyyuwu:

If you provoke a bear, don’t be surprised when it bites your head off.

It has been programmed to react in this way.

It isn’t the bears fault for acting in the way that has been programmed into them, for safety and protective reasons.

Now imagine the bear is a person with BPD.

The same rules apply.

Don’t provoke the borderline.

And if you do, don’t expect them not to bite your fucking head off.

They have been programmed by fear and illness to react this way.

It is not their fault.

(via peachyyuwu-deactivated20210123)

thequietvoiceinthebackofmyhead:

Originally posted by uabua

alittlepizzaanxiety:

It’s comforting to me how many other BPDs describe the Rage with fire related adjectives because honestly it feels like someone sets my entire molecular structure on fire when I get angry

maiaofmelkor:

can’t wait for the day I finally snap and explode, killing everyone within a 5 mile radius

bpdnotebook:

no one ever talks about borderlines being completely right about being upset? it’s all chocked up to the bpd irrationality but where is our validation for lashing out at the correct time? when someone is genuinely doing something to wrong us? but no ofc it’s always “irrational bpd behavior”

lonely-and–sad:

justanotherdepressedhuman96:

I love sleep because that’s the only time I can get away from shit in life, yet when it comes to night time my brain just doesn’t switch off

duhtrinity:

the night sky

(these are my poems, my dms and ask is always open for anyone)

juansendizon:

April 5, 2019

Dear Friend,

Life is about learning how to dance in the chaos.

I never truly thought of defining “Life” intentionally as a writer, but there it is as simple, as poetic and as truthfully as I can describe it. 

Sometimes chaos is beautiful for me because it creates “shooting stars” sensation in my mind, but probably that’s kind of my constant racing thoughts which I still have yet to learn how to properly control, and I have medications for that, but they suck the magic out of me. So sometimes I don’t take them because I don’t break things anymore when I’m mad, and I rarely get mad nowadays which is a recovery victory for me but not really. 

Time travel 3 years ago I punched someone who provoked me, and I just remember an arm chocking my neck, and I couldn’t breathe then the next day I saw a psychiatrist with my uncle and got prescribed some mood stabilizers. 

Life became a blur. I felt sleepy all the time, but I couldn’t sleep because I couldn’t stop moving my legs and I remember thinking “I have bipolar disorder and I’m crazy, and this is how it’s going to be for the rest of my life.” 

I never thought about wanting to die until April 2016. Then I started reading some novels. It’s Kind of a Funny Story by Ned Vizzini somehow gave me hope to survive and live. Then I started learning some philosophy, and then I came across Pessimism, and I wondered if becoming a pessimist will help me manage my dark moods and anger outbursts, and it really did but with a terrible effect.

My pessimism was of weakness which resulted in deep depressions but the important thing for me back then was not being angry anymore, and I’d rather cry all day than have a tiring episode of breaking stuff which includes my mother’s heart and I just didn’t want to be a huge burden than I already was. 

So there I was 3 years ago along with my persistent crying, starting a blog and a monster called “purely obsessional ocd” which would cause me to suffer for most of 2017 and 2018 and I’m not writing this because I’ve beaten it but because I am living my life with it and it’s something that no longer defines me.

This chaos in my mind is something that I’ve learned to work my way around and there are still times when I’m tempted to give in to my compulsions like avoiding the number 8, re-checking things for 3 times or 6 times or 9 times and getting lost in thought when my brain starts to think about what could be just existential fantasies or theories.

The thing is I am growing, I am healing, and I am still trying to have faith every single day whenever doubts, worries or negativity flows through my mind. 

I am a numb robot dancing in the chaos hoping that I’ll feel something magical, peaceful or anything great that reminds me that I am loved and that’s everything.

                                                                                                     Still Fighting,

                                                                                                                Jay 💙

P.S 

I’m sorry that it’s long, but that really felt therapeutic. I’ll try to make my letters to you shorter and simpler next time and thank you. 💙

bravesouul:

seeingitdifferently:

“And he was exactly what I needed at the right time in the right place. He loved me when I already loved myself. He knew my worth and appreciated my art. He was not my other half, he already loved me as a whole.”

— When you meet the right person you know