"slut era" i say as i rot and decay in my bedroom and watch the years pass me by as i miss out on core experiences other people my age are having while i think about the past

Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough?Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough? Why can’t I be good enough?

having bpd is actual hell on earth cause no one tries to fucking understand you and they write you off as being difficult and too much and they leave and we’re left with this fucking personality disorder that consumes my entire fucking existence and they act like its THEIR inconvenience that IM ill.

being aware of abnormal mood shifts is so embarrassing like damn i know this is happening but knowing doesnt stop it from happening :/

bpd culture is always being the "it's okay i understand your feelings and why you acted this way" person but never the one being understood

"u look tired" dawg i'm going insane

sorry i overreacted i had no idea everything would be fine

i never got the chance to look up to my father as my hero. he was never there to threaten the boys who picked on me. he never protected me. he wasn’t hero material. all daughters should want and be able to look up to their father and love them unconditionally. fathers and daughters have specials bonds. a father shouldn’t be able to bare the thought of his daughter in pain. so tell me dad, how is it that you’re able to sleep at night knowing that you’re causing my heart to hurt. you know that you’re causing me to do the things i do. and when you find out about the things i’ve done with boys or drugs or alcohol you still don’t care. i gave you a sign loud and clear that i’m not alright. did you really not see it or did you just not care?

the only reason humans don’t kill themselves en masse is bc we are distractable. literally the only reason. “go to sleep, you’ll feel better in the morning” is cruel in its accuracy. yes I do “feel better” in the morning and how annoying is that, that 8 hours ago all the transcendent reasons to terminate my existence were clear as day and now with some sleep my brain has stuffed them into the back of a drawer so I can continue plodding on and what was I so upset about anyway? time makes all commitments and resolves stale. if I could sustain awareness for more than 5 minutes I would’ve checked out a long time ago, but instead I operate in a twilight state, awake enough to be cognizant of this misery factory we call life but never so much as to do something about it. actually it’s laughable. like: I want to exit the only thing I’ve ever known, want to exit this plane of existence despite having absolutely no idea what comes after if anything, but first let me check my phone. do you know what I mean? do you know what I mean? do you know what I mean? do you know what I mean?

My anxiety and depression means I could be stood in a room full of people and feel completely alone. From the outside I look happy, I look like I have so many people to talk to. I look like I shouldn’t have a care in the world… I WISH! In my head I feel I have no one to confide in, no one I can call my own. This world is so big imagine feeling like your fighting the battle of life with no one but yourself for company. Physically there but mentally… I don’t even know where I am.