sadness and starch

So how long until you wish you'd never met me, until you take back every kind word, until you call me evil just because I'm no longer what you wanted?

me: i deserve love and happiness also me: abuse me abuse me abuse me abuse me abuse me abuse me

Like the attitude towards psychotic people never fucking changes. Everyone shouts about respecting psychotic people until someone starts having delusions on the train and people whip out their phones to film and laugh at them. Everyone starts tweeting about better mental health treatments but in the same breath will call you a crackhead for having disorganized thoughts. Everyone loves their little Shane Dawson conspiracy theories but will ostracize the people scared/paranoid they’re being watched or poisoned. It’s a miracle whenever I can confidently tell someone I have schizophrenia and they don’t recoil or distance themselves from me and it’s a blessing when I can count on someone to still want to engage in a relationship despite knowing I have schizophrenia. Nonpsychotic people don’t get it. And this absolutely doesn’t just apply to ‘neurotypical’ people. You guys wanna think you’re above them when it comes to supporting other mentally ill people but most of you just act the fucking same. Your depression isn’t saving you from being a fucking dickhead, you’re just a dickhead on Zoloft.

I do genuinely get concerned about, in the future, if I would be a good parent, in the case of perhaps meeting a partner who already has a kid, or my partner deciding they want to foster or adopt. I get concerned about my chronic fatigue, my short attention span, my poor upbringing, my lack of enthusiasm, and how easily I get bored and snappy. All those things around kids could potentially harm them. But then I watch Dr.Phil asking some lady “why the hell are you smoking meth with your daughter?“ And I’m like shit, wait, how low actually is the bar here??

Not even a narcissist will hold themselves that high, climb down the mountain a little bit BPD, you're not higher than anyone of us.

When I was little I would make up stories and lie about my life to be more interesting, I did it automatically and it took me a long time to realize it wasn’t normal