deadxandxcold
I wish I didn't exist
|Vent|BPD|CPTSD|Bi-Polar
14 posts
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
Last Seen Blogs
twrpgifs
TWRP gifs
letterdrill08-blog
One Stop Shop For All Skin Related Issues And Home
tsasart
TSas Art
islesmes
hopeless romantic
justcrekel
Life of Kels
Text
I miss the old me and yet I don't even know for sure if that was really me.
When I found out I was diagnosed with BPD I think back to how I behaved as a child and think, "Was that really me or was it someone who I became because others liked that version of me?"
Because it sucks to find out that I only mirror the personality people either are or the personality they favor.
I didn't have room to be myself and now I'm struggling to uncover what I am. Who am I?
I keep asking myself that question and I never come up with an answer. Not even a guess of who I might be.
I can list things I like and dislike but I still find myself questioning it like, "Do I really like/dislike these things or am I doing it to blend in with the crowd?"
I never really felt human or like I belonged amongst other people. Whenever I got too comfortable and said things that genuinely interest me, people would be shocked and most times, have either nothing to say or they answer awkwardly as they excuse themselves.
I know no one really cares who I am. They just care about what I can be for them or what I can do for them. People are selfish this way.
Living is painful for me everyday. Nothing feels fulfilling or purposeful. It feels draining and empty. Just time passing by until one day I just don't wake up or I am killed.
No I don't believe in a higher power. I only believe that I'm reincarnated into many lives because I have made a grave mistake in my first life that I need to fix.
I just don't know what and so I'm trapped in an endless cycle of rebirth until I fix it. That's the horror of it. Having your memory wiped. Because why would it be easy to fix if you don't struggle a little?
0 notes
Text
I ruined my wife's 30th birthday. I had a manic episode. She accused me of cheating on her again because I cleared my browser history and my emails.
I know in the past that's how she found out even though I showed her my phone so confidently like I had nothing to hide. And yet there it was.
I was shocked myself because I completely blacked out and didn't notice what my body was doing on auto pilot.
So I told her I wasn't lying and she continued to call me a liar. It triggered me because she wanted to accuse me on HER birthday when I just wanted to take her out.
So then I had my manic episode and I ended up kicking her away because I just couldn't take her being near me but I also didn't want her to go. It was all too much.
I went back upstairs inside the house to self harm. I didn't want to feel anything but the blade against my skin.
I wanted to die SO badly. Her 30th birthday was ruined because of me. Because I couldn't reassure her enough to believe I wasn't cheating behind her back.
The sad part is I really wasn't. But I became the boy who cried wolf and feined innocence too much that I'm forever tainted as the guilty.
I can't stop self harming now. I used to drink my emotions away but now I'm sober for a month and a half.
I'm continuing my therapy and doing CBT as well as looking into DBT. I still take my medication regularly... but I'm still having the episodes.
I guess my dosage just isn't high enough or I need to try a new medication. I have yet to figure that out yet..
But I had a talk with my wife the other night. I balled my eyes out because here she was, just sharing her emotions about me; even if they hurt me she still has a right to express them.
It just sucks because I know I'm hurting her. I hate myself for it. And she keeps saying she never wishes bad on me.
It's too late for that. Bad things have already happened and will continue to happen to me.
I'm trying so hard to fight for myself. I finally realized this isn't for her. It's never been for her. It was NEVER supposed to be for her.
It's for me. I should've been doing this for me.
She keeps trying to fight for me when I need to fight for myself. I leaned on her too much thinking she can help me out of this hole I fell into.
But I fell into that hole. No one pushed me. I jumped in voluntarily. I need to get out on my own.
I want to find myself. Wherever they may be...
I don't know who I am.
I never knew who I was in my entire life. And now I'm finding out so late that I've just been a mirror.
A mirror that everyone just looks into and sees what they want to see.
When I need to be someone I can look at...
0 notes
Note
Hi! I also suffer from BPD. My black and white thinking is something I always struggle with. No matter how much I try to create a middle ground it only frustrates me.
I'm not sure if this is over stepping, but maybe write out all your Black thinking and White thinking (as hard as that sounds since Black usually wins)
And try to combine the two? I typically just call it realistic thinking instead of a middle ground. It's less frustrating to call it that.
Keep fighting for yourself, okay?
❤️🩹 Wounded Anon
That's not a terrible idea. I'm willing to try anything multiple times if it can help me in anyway.
I keep having to switch therapists, psychiatrists, and change my meds a lot so I try to focus more on my behaviors and mindset more than anything.
It's easier said than done. If it were that simple, I wouldn't be here venting, nor would I even self-harm. In fact, I would've had my career set and in the process of creating my own family by now..
0 notes
Note
After you relapse, do you feel better or does it just make you feel worse?
I know in some cases people feel relief and that's why they turn to that as a coping mechanism
Please take care
It's a little bit of both. During the process, I feel great. I smile as I feel the burn, the stinging sensation. I love to see the red bubble up and drip down.
But when I'm done, I immediately feel guilty. I feel shameful. Not so much for the fact I just mutilated my body, but because my wife has to see it one day or another.
She doesn't really say anything anymore. I can't tell if it's because she's scared I'll get upset and defensive or she just stopped caring because she also may believe I'm looking for a reaction out of her.
I do it to let off steam. Because if I don't do that or exhaust myself physically with exercise, then I know I'll end up hurting her.
0 notes
Note
About your dad, how did you find out and what were you feeling during that moment?
I hope you're eating and drinking water daily
🌻 Anon
I was having a conversation with my wife. A heart-to-heart kind. Which is rare. We were out in the balcony while she smoked a cigarette and we just kinda admired the night sky.
She was talking about the usual, wanting a family. Talking about the deadline, getting a house someday.
And then it just hit me. I started remembering, picturing things in my head. It was crazy. I didn't think I would ever remember anything from my childhood.
I began to cry and when my wife inquired I told her, "I think... my dad sexually violated me as a kid. And even let his friends take a turn with me."
I remembered always being with my dad, always going with him to visit friends and hangout. My mom worked graveyard shifts so I was typically left with my dad.
My brothers were too busy hanging out with their friends or even working.
How I felt? Heartbroken. Shattered. Betrayed. Confused. Lost. And most of all, angry. I was so angry because he died and I remained by his side till the bitter end thinking I loved him with all my heart. I should've left him to die alone had I known.
0 notes
Text
I'm at a point in my life where even while I'm working on myself to become better for myself. For my wife, though I try to make it for just me. There's no point trying to change for someone else because then it'll all fall apart if I lose her.
I've been working on being honest. Trying to not cheat. Trying to not give her reasons to doubt my actions and intentions to be with her.
I thought if I kept my browser and emails clean it meant I was doing good and I wasn't trying to stir up trouble. It did the exact opposite. I didn't think once that because that's how she found out last time it would only make me look ten times more guilty.
It hurts. She's told me that I seek the attention of older men ; anyone in general really besides her.
Even after I've found out maybe a little over a month ago, that my dad sexually abused me and exploited my body as a child to his friends. I continue to struggle to come to terms that my father wasn't as compassionate and loving as I'd like to believe.
I've been seeing a psychiatrist about my Bi-Polar II and schizophrenia symptoms. I have yet to find a stable medication combination to get my auditory and visual hallucinations in check.
My moods still fluctuate but it seems the medication I'm on makes my anxiety and depression run at a scale of 9/10 nearly every day. 10 being the worst pain.
I want to kill myself everyday. There's not a day I don't think about dying but I never have a plan or how I'm going to do it. It's scary… because I know it's just either going to happen or it won't.
When I verbally say I'm going to kill myself it's a desperate cry for help but I'm only seen as an attention seeker. I can't go to behavioral hospitals because I know by now, I'll never leave. And I'll lose myself more than I already have.
I have but one support and it's my wife. But I can't even count on her for help when she's stressed and frustrated with me. There's too much weight on her because I don't have any other people to fall on.
I can't trust anyone else to be there for me. To lean on. Anyone I've ever considered to be close either leave my life, or they distance themselves once I do open up. Even then, I'm only opening up to surface level. No where near how much I've opened up to my wife.
I feel estranged from my family. My mom claims to be there for me whenever I need her but I feel it's a front to just excuse her past actions of appearing to be there now for me. I don't believe she really understands what I'm suffering from.
Both of my brothers aren't even aware of what I found out about our father. Let alone what diagnosis I have for my mental illness. To be honest, I believe they don't care for mental illness. They likely just believe it's a mindset and you can just push it away.
I keep being told by my wife I don't have BPD even though I was diagnosed in a behavioral hospital. She believes I was misdiagnosed. It's frustrating since before I knew anything about BPD I always felt like there was something off about me I could just never find out.
I can't tell anymore if she's trying to be optimistic of me not having BPD according to her, or she's just in denial that I have an illness that doesn't necessarily have a cure but an extended solution with medication.
0 notes
Text
Today, I cried. I cried for no reason in particular. I just started crying and didn't realize I was crying until I felt my own tears drip down my cheeks.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
I attempted to die again, and unfortunately, here I am, seeing another day.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
You don't understand me. You never will. That's okay. One day I won't be here anymore. After a few days to a week pass by, you'll forget about me anyway.
Stop trying to love me and tell me I can exist. Stop telling me I can get better. I'm sick. I'll never get better.
I'm incapable of loving or being loved because I hate myself so much to the point that I'm always self-mutilating my own body.
I just want to die. I'm always cold. I'm always tired. Always in pain. If I could just lay down and sleep forever that would be nice.
To everyone, I'm always treated like a fool. A joke. A nuisance. I'll never be good enough to be treated like a human.
To anyone reading this, I hope you never feel the way I do.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
I tried to kill myself today. It didn't work. I'm still here. I wish I wasn't. I only cut down to the fat instead of past muscle. The blade wasn't good enough or maybe I didn't apply enough pressure. I had stitches done and now I wait seven days because I can remove them. I hate that I survived.
0 notes
Text
I can't believe you really took that stupid toxic environment over something better. I don't care about pay. Compensation. I care about how you're treated.
Why don't you understand how much I care about you and I want you to take care of yourself so much? You're a fucking idiot. I hate you...
So why do I also love you too much to let go?
0 notes
Text
Fuck off. Stop telling me you love me then turn around and tell me things you can't stand about me and then you want me to go away.
Which is it? Do you actually love me and you want to spend every waking moment with me or do you hate me and you can't stand to deal with my issues any longer?
Just be honest with me. It's not going to hurt my feelings. People leave me all the time. You can leave anytime you want. Just stop telling me you love me and care about me if you're not willing to stay through my storms.
0 notes
Text
I hate that no matter how hard I try to keep all of my negative thoughts at bay or I try to be a "good" person that I end up being someone who craves attention or someone who just wanted validation and doesn't deserve it.
Fuck trying to be a better person if all you want to do is invalidate my feelings and my efforts to be better. It doesn't matter why I'm doing it. I feel like it should matter that I'm trying to change to begin with.
And even if it doesn't last long, so what? I'm not consistent, but I'm learning to be.
0 notes
Text
I don't want to live. Most days I want to die.
No I'm not seeking attention. No I'm not trying to gain sympathy.
I just need to vent since I have no one to speak with. And no i don't mean a professional therapist.
I just need to vent to somewhere. I don't care if I'm not heard out by anyone anymore.
It's become painfully clear that my words are too much for most typical crowds.
1 note
·
View note