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#quiet bpd

I feel myself slipping. I feel my mind swirling and churning. You don’t care anymore do you? I was able to finally burst that perfect little rose bubble and I ruined it all. I wish I hadn’t. I wish I wasn’t so sensitive and that I could make it up, but all I can do is sit and suffer and try to be quiet as once again you go to sleep without giving me a second thought.

I’m dying can’t you tell? Didn’t you see the 12 fucking messages I sent you? I said I’m sorry but sorry is never enough. What I’m trying is never enough.

I’m sorry… please let’s make up and go back to how things were before. Let’s start over and pretend we just met. Please?

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This is TORTURE

How can emotions feel so unbearable and nobody knows this

How can they neglect me when I feel like I’m dying

Today i lacked air, cried and screamt in pain, my eyes are red and swollen, my mind is rushing and i almost crashed my car driving. I wrote to every single friend and no one replied. I have waited for three hours for my bf to answer. I have phoned my best friend twice and she didnt pick up. I have been dealing with this alone for seven hours.

It has been worse than any fracture. Worse than any pain. It is so bad you find yourself wishing something would just knock you out. It is so bad that even if you don’t want to be dead, you would rather be.

I thought about taking some pills to go to sleep. But what if i woke in the middle of the night and no one could answer? And… What if they hadnt answered yet?

I just CANT.

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Dear FP,

I hate you. I hate the way you make me feel like I’m worthless when you don’t text back. Which happens often. I hate that my thoughts revolve around you. I hate that I love you so much it hurts but I know you don’t even think about me. I hate that I’m always guessing about what you mean and second guessing my own responses. I hate how much of a mess I’ve become because of you. I hate that I don’t know what we are because you’ve never said and I’m too afraid of losing you to ask. But this is me giving up. I’m tired of trying. I’m tired of being the only one to really put effort in. I’m tired of the bursts of happiness subsequently followed by soul crushing sadness when I realize once again that you’re probably just using me. It hurts. So I’m done.

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“Sometimes, in the darkest of places I find myself- shaking, letting the worlds oceans pour from my swollen, reddened eyes. I let the worlds sorrows, the pains, enter through my open lips. Where I hold, and rock traumas beyond comprehension, like a newborn baby. Sometimes I find it nearly impossible to get through, as if the darkness will never be shifted into the prism of light.”

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⚠️ POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNING BELOW ⚠️

❌ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK ❌

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Before I say anything, I want to say that-

⛔ I AM CURRENTLY NOT A DANGER TO MYSELF AND COMING DOWN FROM THIS HIGH ⛔


Slowly but surely…

I just don’t want to get reported, because someone thinks I’m an endangerment to myself.

That’s happened way too much on my Instagram account…

Anyhow, uhm…

Does anyone else get the feeling like they’re borderline suicical?

Like, is that even a thing???

I just always feel like I’m literally one inch or less from becoming suicical.

It could be the smallest thing even that sets me off.

Not even a normal trigger.

I stay away from triggers, or things that may or may not spark something in my mind to act up.

When things get super noisy up in my head though, I usually just go to sleep if I can’t hear myself think.

It’s worked every time for me so far…

It’s not too noisy tonight, so we’re good…right now😅

(Yes, I meant for that word to be spelled wrong, because I’ve tried to post this once already and it told me I couldn’t.

Could be because I’ve said that word and Tumblr is case sensitive to certain words.)

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It all makes so much sense now. My first year of college I took a mental health assessment and it came up that I may struggle with PTSD. At first I was like, no? I mean I dont hear gunshots and run for cover? But lately I’ve been reminding myself that mental illness (much like sexuality lol) is a spectrum. People can experience symptoms of an illness that may not be so straightforward. Not everyone’s experiences will be/have to be the same.

So then I found out about the BPD thing. Which lo and behold is a byproduct of PTSD. Not to mention that I’ve always insisted that I had some form of anger issues but never in the way that I’ve seen before (this is gonna be a reoccurring thing - comparing my experiences to ones I’ve seen in the media) and no amount of googling could give me the answer I was searching for. Now let’s throw in the depression and anxiety. This is too much. Too many problems for one person to have. I’m trying to hard to be an emo kid. And the bingeing! The bad relationship with food! Then there’s the dissociation. I keep recalling the incident that had led up to my stay at the psychiatric hotel because I’m trying to make myself feel bad about it. I asked my therapist if it was bad that I didnt feel bad about it. But then I learned that the reason I was feeling the way I did (i.e. nothing) was because it wasn’t me who did what I did. All week people were telling me that what I did was bad and I just shrugged my shoulders. You’re talking to the wrong guy here, I had nothing to do with it… (I’m not even gonna touch the wavering self image, that’s a whole other can of worms)

Right, then a few days ago happens and it all clicks. I didnt have a million different illnesses. I just had one and those were the symptoms of it. That made me feel a little more normal. Still I cant shake that while everything the therapist told me about BPD, and everything she had read to me sounded 100% accurate, when doing the research and reading about other peoples experiences, I dont feel any relation. I’m thinking that BPD is a more outward, noticable thing and all the people in my life have been super oblivious to the signs. Either BPD isnt actually my issue or I’m just not doing it right?

Theeeeenn, I find out about Quiet BPD. And once again I get that feeling of excitement where I finally understand everything. It all makes sense now. My symptoms arent loud and obvious because they’re quiet. I feel like a sexually confused kid who just discovered bisexuality. Theres a whole world out there with people who can relate to me. There are labels out there that can specify and clarify why I am the way I am. Disclaimer: I havent spoken with anyone yet about the Quiet BPD. I’m still researching about it but it feels right

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