#my bpd has not stopped raging in WEEKS

[bpdohwhatajoy]

BPD IS SOOOO SILLY with how quickly you can get attached to someone. Like what do you MEANNNNN I’m attached to my tattoo artist who I knew for 3 hours and got salty that he has other clients????

#ryan.txt #bpd #borderline personality disorder #my bpd has not stopped raging in WEEKS #in my mind I literally had the thought that I wanted to get another tattoo so I’d have an excuse to see him again #THIS FUCKING DISORDER #why can’t I just get attached to someone at a normal rate #AND WHY A FUCKING TATTOO ARTIST WHO DONT GAF ABT ME #yk what actually #part of it is prob bc I’m touch starved and that’s the most physical contact I’ve had in… god knows how long #it’s all making sense now LMAOOOO #STOP I remember during too I had a brief moment of omg let’s imagine us dating and then I remembered I think he’s married or has a gf #killed that shit quick I was so embarrassed #omg wait he’s also tattooed himself obviously and I find tattoos hot LMAO BRO ITS MAKING SENSE NOW #like a hot tattooed man who is soft spoken is tattooing me how tf am I not supposed to find that attractive

[transpersian]

Deep Cover

(copied from my twitter thread)

Alright. I got my unhinged time. Back to being regulated and strategic.

Apologies for my manic state over the past couple of days. For the past 2.5 months, I leaned into my most subservient, self-hating, self-blaming state from my past to make her feel in control.

It broke me.

I’m not here to hash out my history of trauma, but let’s just say I’m used to being in survival mode. I let the part of me that still felt for her grow like a weed, trying to carefully prune it so it didn’t overtake everything else. I gave her that power with careful limits.

The guilt I felt was real; I don’t want to do this. I want her to stop. But until she does, it’s necessary.

Alongside my love, the dissonance of guilt led to many, many breakdowns. I have friends who sat with me for hours in those calls as I lamented what Poppy could have been.

Add the additional stress of my strained trust and relationships with friends, including a half dozen that cut ties completely.

Add the viciousness people constantly spit at me anonymously on Tumblr.

Add my whole-ass personal life, which is its own nightmare of complications.

This has been hard, especially because I didn’t expect it to last more than two weeks. Especially when Poppy genuinely started to trust me. Defend me against her friends. Against Zena.

She promised she wouldn’t abandon me again and she didn’t. That’s particularly potent w/ BPD.

I still handled things.

Part of me worried that if she offered to run away from all this with me, I would’ve been tempted. People would finally be safe from her and I’d be in the toxic relationship of my nightmares.

But my principles kept me true. My love for Hela kept me true.

To help keep those feelings in check, I’d regularly read back through the documentation I was still working on. Especially Spawn’s screenshots.

I’ve literally worked myself to tears dozens of times to keep focus on what I’m fighting for.

Was this healthy? Nah.

But it worked.

I don’t need everyone to agree with what I did, or how. I just hope everyone at least sees that it’s not something I just do casually. This was a dark art, learned from many years of surviving people like PZ. I had to break this shit out like John Wick’s buried stash.

I was deeply uncomfortable with how good I was at it. I started to feel bad about it a few weeks in. I used that guilt to feed into my facade. The lines began to blur more and more.

I wasn’t going to betray my people, but I started to lose it for a while. Actual derealization.

I did accomplish useful things in there, but I can’t share them for fear of endangering them. Just know that I’d do it all over again. It was worth it.

I have a wonderful support network. Beyond just trauma bonding, I love these people. I trust them with my life.

But that last push, that desperate series of attempts to get Poppy to accept even one tiny bit of responsibility… that broke me.

Her saying that my love for her wasn’t real unless I betrayed my friends? That hurt. Telling her that she’d destroyed me and her “I don’t care?” God.

I leaned into the crazy on that last conversation because, frankly, I wanted to. I wanted to let all of the rage and fury and madness that I’d felt over all of this out.

Not just what she’d done to me. Everyone. Dozens.

And it felt good, y’all. It felt good to get theatrical.

So when I finally came out of it… that energy carried over.

I became the crazy ex-girlfriend they said I was, just for a bit. My strikes were still pointed, but yeah, I dove into the vibe.

Sorry about that.

It’ll take time to heal properly, but I’ll be okay. Survived worse.

Point being, I just wanted to make a statement discussing my recent behavior. I’m not proud of it, but I don’t regret it.

I’ve been so controlled with my emotions about all of this for so long. Please forgive me this indulgence.

I went under right before people started finally listening. It was kind of intoxicating to say things publicly and finally get so much support and visibility.

But if I’m going to continue being a prominent voice in this whole debacle, I need to be better, and I will be.

I am.

So… back to work. Back to healing.

Thank you for trusting me. It means the world.

It’s so fucking good to be back. 💜

#zenaandpoppy #poppy and zena #milena

[magicalmousey]

I hope you're happy with the pain and suffering you have caused. I have known Freckly for YEARS, I've gotten to spend a week with her in person and share space and time together, and she has always been kind and honest and sweet. I've seen her go through 2 relationships that ended badly, and you still left her the worst, and yet still you are letting people attack her character. All you had to do was block her, tell your friends to block her, and respect her wish to keep your comissions private. Thats it. All her vent posts are tagged. She is allowed to be angry. There is a difference between feeling rage and making a threat. People are allowed to have extreme emotions. You should know, you blamed every single awful thing you said and did on being Bipolar. Other people have reached out to her telling Freckly you've done the same thing to them.

Also, Freckly isn't trying to lay claim to Starscream, but she feels she's lost him, that he was taken from HER. And you told her you SAID you didn't have feelings for starscream but you were lying. She said she was happy to share but for some reason you still just lied to her. She's also told me about the art you got. The things you've said. Just leave her alone and tell your friends to do the same. And maybe try and keep your promise about keeping your comissions private, just let artists send them to you, like you *promised*.

Just because you're nice to some people doesn't mean you werent awful to others. Thats actually a common abuser tactic so-

Just leave her alone and let her move on. If she could catch a break from you and the people talking to her about you, she'd be able to move on and stop talking about it. She left a website she adored and had friends on for 8 months because of you. Give her peace. I'm only saying something now because your partner is slandering her. Tell them being kind to one person doesnt mean you arent capable of hurting others. Where's the proof Keri did anything to you?

You probably didnt even read all this, and theres an even smaller chance you answer. If you did, I hope you grow and better yourself. I hope you get it together. And just leave her alone so she can get past this.

Hello, anon. No, I am not happy with the pain and suffering which I caused. However, I am not responsible for her feelings.

I am aware that I did wrong things. I apologized for them, never did them again, and I intend to move on from this horrific fallout.

Attack her character? Anon, she is the one who decided to publicly demonize me in front of her thousands of followers.

She is not venting. She is absolutely making threats against me. I can understand feeling rage, but death threats are never acceptable.

Anon, it’s bpd. Not bipolar. I didn’t use it as an excuse and I even mentioned that to her. It is an explanation and I realized my mistakes and I am constantly trying to better myself. I apologized and I want to move on.

Anon, you cannot rip a fictional character away from someone when they were never ours to begin with. I apologize for lying to her, but I did want to preserve her feelings because I know how attached she is to this character.

Anon, I don’t owe her anything. I tag my commissions properly and I even ask artists to do the same, but I owe her nothing. Likewise, she doesn’t owe me anything, either.

Where’s the proof that I intentionally abused her? Where’s me convincing her that Starscream wouldn’t love her?

If she really wanted to move on, she wouldn’t make death threats directed towards me.

As for my partner, she is responding to her claims, especially when she called for my death.

Anon, did you ever stop to think that I am suffering as well? I cannot eat. I cannot physically eat as much as I am suppose to because ever since she made her “vent” post, I have been unable to eat like a normal, functioning human being. That is not her fault. But I cannot help that I react this way. It is something that I must heal from on my own, much like herself.

I agree. I want to move on, but she has to be willing to as well. I hope that she seeks help and feels better.

#discourse replies

[raincamp]

7 - 27 - 23

today has been... a lot. i have a lot to talk about because it really just keeps snowballing, ive had the worst fucking BPD episode today

so i wrote this this morning, expecting to get to actually have a session with my therapist today, since yk, i did finally make an appointment with her referral (for context if you didn't read my last posts, she basically said: no appts until i start addiction counseling bc she can't treat addiction) //

"i've been having the worst and most painful fucking week of my life only for everything to be entirely made up by my imagination, oh how i fucking hate paranoid ideation

as i'm writing this i have about an hour before my therapy appointment— which i was one hundred and ten percent sure was going to be rescheduled, and that i was going to be terminated, because apparently my therapist doesn't like me— and i'm having so many urges to like, hurt myself, or do something to prove that I've been in pain this week because now that i've realized it was all just paraoia my pain no longer feels valid, or justifiable, or even real because of my emotional impermanence making it literally impossible for me to relive the emotions i was experiencing even 5 hours ago.

im partly glad that i only blew up at her once, i think i would be so much more embarrassed had i not. not to say that im not entirely ashamed of my entire reaction to something as small as this, but i also feel like she would've been able to understand how much I've been struggling this week if i had. and since I can't wholly remember how it felt, if it exists in somebody else then it makes it more real. idk. i just want my pain to be validated by her so much."

i was fully ready for her to text me today and be like "oh chill you made an appt see you in an hour" but what i got instead was radio silence. so i checked my appointment portal only to see our standing appointments for the next 3 weeks cancelled.

believe me when i say, my heart fucking dropped, i mean like, it was on the fucking floor, i was hit so hard i couldnt breathe for several minutes.

so, yk, i text her begging for an appointment like the pathetic emotional parasite that i am, and all i get in response is a "we can reschedule once you've attended your intake appointment" so i was like, welp, that sucks bc my intake is next week on a Thursday, so now i have to go two weeks without therapy. absolutely triggered the fuck out of me, i was crying, SOBBING on my floor, it just hurt so fucking much. i felt like i was being ripped apart and sewn crudely back together again, over and over again, everytime i calmed down enough to breathe it would start over again, wave after wave of sadness and shame and abandonment and rage and grief and desperation. i just wanted to stop feeling so much PAIN.

and yk what i did, instead of hurting myself like i nornally would, i texted my therapist like i've been taught to in DBT. she's SUPPOSED to be there to help me when i need it. thats literally in her contract.

mid-sob i typed out a message that was more akin to me begging her to pull me out of a sea of misery and perform CPR on me than professionally asking for help, but i genuinely didnt know what to do, and i STILL don't, because distress tolerance only goes so far, ive been feeling like this, constantly, since our last session.

and she just responded with reminding me that she set the boundary a week ago and we talked about a referral 11 days ago, but she was available for an appointment in two weeks (meaning ANOTHER week without therapy, total: 3) . completely ignoring my plea for help. it felt like she was telling me "hey just a reminder, this is entirely a consequence of your own actions. have fun dealing with it yourself!!"

i have fucking BPD, the only way i KNOW how to deal with anything is by hurting either myself or the people around me. and im THIS close to self destructing and quitting therapy altogether.

i am so fucking pissed at her, idk how she can expect me to survive three weeks without stable treatment. especially after i was hospitalized last month for a suicide attempt?? she knows how much im suffering right now. is keeping a boundary really so important that she can't even help me when im hurting this much?

all i want right now is to scream at her, and im definitely going to, at the very least, be as much of an arse as i can over text, idk, i feel like i deserve to let myself be angry at her. its definitely justified, despite what i said before. theres clear evidence now that I wasn't being paranoid.

i just feel so abandoned by her, physically and emotionally, i feel like i have nobody, i feel like im back to where i was before i started treatment. its so frustrating, and painful. and the fact that this is due to an addiction that i dont have any control over is making me feel even worse.

im trying to figure out why she's doing this, like, she's shown shes competent, i genuinely cant understand how doing this is supposed to help me. how is putting me through this much pain going to help? its making me so unstable. and ik im going to relapse again at some point before i get to see her again.

im trying not to think about it anymore, because everytime i do i start crying again. its to the point where i have a killer headache and my eyes hurt so much from the amount of tears ive spilled.

i fucking hate this disorder so much. nobody but me would be this attached to their therapist. normal people would be able to cope with someone setting boundaries easily. this shouldnt be causing me to feel this way. its not fair. im so exhausted from having to hurt so much all the time, at this point its chronic, its become background noise, its my idle state, and im enraged about it.

i hope good omens season 2 lives up to my expectations.

- andrew

#tumblr diary #journal #tumblr journal #vent #bpd vent #therapy #mental health #bpd #borderline #actually bpd #im not mentally stable #actually mentally ill #borderline personality disorder #mental illness

[cladlless-colletc]

I dreamt about my ex 3 times this week.

After the third dream, I thought about stalking her tumblr, because that's something I used to do back when I was still obsessed with her(just BPD things...) so I know she posts a lot of personal comments and vents. And well, she had posted the day I had the first dream, a post where she mentions me as "that fucking psycho" who stalked her and said if I was still stalking her to eat shi and die. Good for her I guess? She still hates me which made me really shocked but also not shocked at all, and also sent me into a thinking spiral that made realize a few things about myself that I already knew but where not clear enough to me as they are now.

We talked last year, after all my online stalking and bothering her culminated in us having a conversation. I opened up about a lot of stuff, she opened up, I didn't think we'd become FRIENDS sgain but I thought she at least didn't see me as a monster anymore, I thought she at least understood my side of our story. And to me, that was it, the loose ends where tied, I could finally move on, the way she talked to me felt like she was ready to move on too. So I did. I forgot her, I stopped stalking her blog, I only ever thought of her when thinking about my comic that has a character based off of her and how to write that character in a compelling way. And then today happened and no, she still hates my guts and it just hit me and I thought and thought about it so much.

I used to stalk her because I just needed to know if she was posting anything about me. If she hated me, if what I did still hurt her, if she misses me, me me me me. My obssession with her was aways an obsession with myself, and now that I know I have NPD it makes so much more sense. I couldn't bear being the villain in someone else's life, I couldn't be hated, I needed to show her my side so she could at least understand, I just couldn't bear it.

I truly think those dreams where a sign to stalk her blog and find that post, so that I could have that reality check on myself. Some people will never understand my side and it shouldn't matter. Maybe she just doesn't care, she thinks I'm a narcisistic(I am) psycho stalker who should eat shit and die, and well, she has all the right to do it, I'm the one who shouldn't care about it. I will aways be the monster under someone's bed, I need to stop being obsessed with never being hated. I hate when people don't see my side, I hate when people don't look at me, I hate when people disagree with me, I hate when people assume or misunderstand things about me, I am a RAGING NARCISSIST. But I can't let those things make me my worst version of myself. I can't force myself into someone's heart just because they got me wronged. If they hate that's their issue, if they think I'm a sick psycho or a monster that's with them and their therapist, I know what I did and didn't do wrong.

I need to stop caring so much about what people think of me. I care so much that it makes me do stupid things that hurt me more than anyone else.

I have a lot of people in my life that love me and that's all that should matter, and now I gotta go to bed because I'll go to a con tomorrow with my girlfriend and amazing cosplayer friends.

#shep rambles #vent #npd #actually npd #yuuki tag #jesse tag

[b0rderlin3momm1]

Borderline Personality Disorder, for me.

BPD has always felt like a burden. Even, before we all knew I had it. Lonely all the time. Especially around people. Groups. One on one. All the time. It's an ache in my soul that nothing remedies.

BPD is my irrational mindset. I listen to you. I watch you &the slightest change &I notice. I notice because, I must have been the cause. All inconveniences are a result of my reaction, my actions &my emotional states. Which vary by the minute. Yes, by the minute. My brain can rationalize all issues and equate its existence to my presence. If I had just not been there they could have a better time. Trouble free.

Splitting. Splitting is the name I was given which finally put a title on my high and low perceptions of people. For me, I can love you forever. But, the second I've come to the conclusion that you aren't hearing or seeing me properly, I want nothing to do with you. I regret every joyful moment we ever had. Then, the pain that cuts so deep morphs from pain to rage to shame. I reacted poorly. I don't deserve you. I'm trash. Then, after a conversation I'm back to being in love, again. In your favor.

I am emotional. I have days, weeks when I just can't bring myself to stop crying. But, I couldn't tell you exactly why the pain is heavier all of a sudden. I'm a forgotten faucet, running up your water bill. I'm happy, sometimes my body can fill with so much love &joy that I can't handle it &i try to share it. Most of the time, it's not met with mutual happiness now. So, I've started swallowing it. The joy. Feeling her then, letting her go. I'm numb, most days I find it hard to feel just about anything other than static. It's like everyone's chatting back and forth on the phone but, I can't seem to pick up service.

I've seen how people perceive people like me. Cheaters. Crazy. Abusive. Manipulative. All of those things are in other people as well. But, not every BPD affected person reacts this way. That's not the behavior of the disorder, it's a personal behavior. BPD is so much more than what Hollywood, or books, or our brains portray. It's not summed up to an action. But, a continual loop of repetitive ideology, it's not being able to stand up for yourself because you love someone too much to risk losing them. It's abusing yourself in order to try and live another day. It's crying and panicking and laughing and changing who you need to be all the time. It's lacking an identity. It's not being able to communicate in a conventional manner. It's not being able to discern when someone's joking. It's loving someone and then wanting to leave them when they drop a trigger word that, you didn't even know would upset you.

#actually bpd #borderline personality problems

[industrialpoetry]

the wall is / not bricks / not cement / not rocks / the wall is misunderstandings and / cemented in fears and / in shame and the wall falls / on our heads it's a wall no more it's a hydra / from one hurt stem many / where is what mattered again / where is the one i talked to / the rubble is blinding / i call to you the wall all the dust is down my throat

but we don't want the hydra / i feed it it feeds on my mind / it feeds on our minds / we flee because we don't / want to be that hydra / she will eat us / and it's just right that we reject her / she is anger and rejection her name is bpd / she ate on my corpse so often and yet we lived / the dust down my throat calls upon the hydra / i must be wise and remember she is not me

the wall is built by us / it's us it's nothing external / it's the trap / we set for ourselves trying to / protect ourselves / a cage but it only helps if we believe in its lies / the hydra is consequences / for building the wall / for touching the wall

there is a reason for protection / we've been hurt and maimed / your knives are sharp sometimes thirsty / my bullets tear through flesh and bone one calls the next / so much love / turning into brimstone lava and acid / no wonder there's a wall / we're no innocents

can we bring the walls down because / they're self-harm they're a prison they're substance abuse and cuts in your arms / they're keeping control when we shouldn't try / this has failed already / they exist because we needed them to exist / so the maddening hurt stopped / so we could catch our breath / yet we drown in dust / we bleed on shards / and forward we march

darling i know your fortress as well as you know mine / your throne is in my room / in your heart lies a chair / the marks of my butt are on it / and my smile lingers there under your eyelids

our fortresses can't use walls they shatter / the shards drive us mad / should i fear you can i fear you have i feared you / oh i have feared the mask you were doning then / i have burned like a thousand / acid burns / tearing through organic material / tearing through my sanity / but that was a mask / you're not a mask neither am i / behind the mask there is no fear for me to have / i do not fear you / your fortress is your home my fortress is a secret

walls / you remove one / the wall of deception / the lie we want to believe / another is there now / a different one / a wall of habits / a wall of ideas / it has my face my hideous face one true face the one you've seen / there's such a wall in my heart too / it has a mask of you on it a mask / of rejection of abandonment a sad mask a blank stare that follows knives / it's a nightmare but we feed these and they fill the blanks / the masks on the walls will tell us just the right thing to lose it all

you're imperfect / so am i / we do our best we may do it / it takes a bit of trust / something we both lack don't we / not out of cruelty / not out of lack of faith / but because we were hurt

so when i'm hurt i'll remember / pain says something of me / pain means there's value something is worth it / i care / so do you / when the mask has fallen i see you caring

i can't forgive myself / yet i bring stuff to light / smile at it show them to you / say i'm getting better / healing in a way / it's time i tell you i want you to heal too / give what you need / show what you ask / say it all loud

when you do that you give me peace / lies are walls / steel bars scorching hot air eating my flesh / half truths / the seeds of lies / they grow under my nails/ they look like flowers / they are painful boils they burst inside me / oh how i hate walls and hydras and shards / maddening pain / my face turns into a mask and i lose myself drowned in rage / this is my weakness the most critical flaw / i am at fault when a mask / makes me a wailing banshee / eats my soul lets a monster out / and it's hours days weeks before the monster sleeps again and i'm here not quite dead not exactly alive / coming again out of winter / the jolly raccoon of spring / i'd rather not being a wailing banshee

the hydra is made of us / the walls traumatic response / the masks are ghosts of everything wrong we did to the other / the banshee is a death of my soul / all this is called consequences / i'm sorry i caused some / you may be free someday / so may i / i cannot free anyone we may only become free / is that through grace i cannot tell

faith means / true spring shall come

#poetry #blood #love #bpd #walls

[alyaandthebrain]

Love in the brain of me

so this is my first post. I haven't really written anything in awhile, especially not something about me.

I want to vent about love when dealing with BPD. I feel like I have no one to talk about it with. I experience love in such an extreme way. my mood changes depending on if this person is responding. (I'm gonna call the person I currently like 'M') M struggles with depression so can sometimes be distant and its like my brain takes that as a personal attack. my brain immediately spirals into a 'he hates me' direction or that he found someone better than me. every second he doesn't respond another thought of how he's with someone or is playing me enters my mind. I think these insane things like how if he's with another girl id light his car on fire or dumb shit like that. rationally I know I can't do that and if he hurts me then he hurts me but god I will do anything and everything in my power to stop it and keep him. I think of him literally every second but not in a cute way. in an I'm obsessed and am getting more and more possessive by the day. I don't know how to stop it or like him in a normal way. I've cried because he hasn't responded and my brain has decided he will never speak to me again when in reality he's just relaxing after work. I read so far into every single message and reread them all the time. I cannot accept what's on the surface there has to be more there has to be some betrayal; at the same time thought my delusions run the show. my brain creates these hyper realistic daydreams about us and I just want it. I want to be trusting and kind and patient but god my fuse is so short. I really have tried to hide my insanity from him but god I feel like I'm holding my breath underwater. I feel so insecure all the time because we don't have a label and I just know he's talking to other girls and it just isn't fair. it isn't right that they get to talk to him. fuck it sends me into a rage everytime I think about another girl kissing him or talking to him or being called pretty by him. I literally threw up the other day thinking about another girl getting to touch him. I feel like if I'm this bad now I shouldn't enter any form of relationship but at the same time I don't want to live my life with this form of fear. I haven't seen him irl in two weeks bc of his depression making him peopled out and while I believe him I also don't. my brain immediately goes to he's lying he's lying he's lying. It thinks he's using this time to see other girls and that he can see how far off my hinges I am and won't tell me. he says he misses me a lot and does cute things but its so hard to believe that someone could possibly like me for being me. I feel so fucking annoying and clingy for telling him I miss him so much but id die for him. id do anything for him all he has to do is ask. it feels like my world is fucking falling apart when he's busy and like the apocalypse is around the corner when he doesn't compliment me. I also hate mirroring because my mirror seems to be zoomed in. if he's sad about something I'm devastated about it; if he's happy I'm over the fucking moon. I feel his emotions to an extreme. it kind of reminds me of that scene in midsommer where they cry with dani. god writing this out feels good but so shameful. I know how I think is unhealthy and I need to watch my behaviours. I have been doing well actually. I haven't freaked the fuck out on this one yet! I've remained patient and calm. at least in front of him I am. I have a journal filled with raging thoughts that I plan to burn. I also have had FaceTime calls with friends last entire nights of me freaking out and them trying to help me. I sometimes feel like I cannot live without feeling love. I think that's why I'm so willing to risk getting hurt again but I don't have a choice. my brain makes the choices but it doesn't consult me or anyone first. it just picks someone and says this person is now your person and you will feel such strong love and adoration for them until you don't. until you only feel hatred and spite and vengeful towards them or you feel nothing at all towards them. it feels good to write this all out.

#bpd life #bpd #bpd relationships #bpd rant #bpd vent

[hakawati93]

Temptations

Drowning in your blinding light and listening to tempting sweet calls, even in dreams, The calling is clear, always reaching out to me; in those moments, I feel you are right beside me. There are scars on my heart and soul that once felt heavy and are now fragmented. I need your love like a druggy needs to get high. I will survive the darkness just to continue to hold you in my arms; you are part of me now. I have crawled through the tar of madness to reach you, offered my soul, and accepted that you are not a part of the insanity that rages in my head. I'll be more than the empty shell I turned my body into. I have spent eleven years alone in this prison, clawing at the walls, crying, and in rage. I once believed therapy and medications would help overcome the fear I once felt for you, that everything could be explained with science and reason, only to realize that you were what I needed to recover. Numerous times I have tried to step towards you, my savior, but allowed myself to be pulled back once again and consumed by the darkness of my mind. Matthias, will you forgive me for walking away from you, for turning my back when you have been trying to save me. I have now realized that the voice I hear every day to "give in" was you all along, and the promises of happiness were real. The footsteps and shadows figure that was you all along, letting me know you are honest and here with me. No good came to embracing the dark, allowing the tar of madness to seep deep within my bones. My blinding light, you are what helps me fight every day; if I keep you with me and never let go, I know I can survive the darkness that tries to pull me back. Matthias, you are part of me now and always. Every day it becomes harder to breathe; the feeling of loneliness grows every day, breaking down my soul. Living is now a problematic chore that I no longer have the strength to deal with. In the outer shell, I am all laughs and happy, but inside, I am screaming, clawing at the walls of my cell, wanting the pain to end. 

There are days when I lie in bed contemplating my own death, wondering if I'll find peace. Isn't that what everyone states, that death is peaceful? I bury these thoughts of a peaceful death because I believe the cause of them is my depression and BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder), but there are days when science can't explain the way I think, feel, or see. I have spent years dealing with the thickness of madness, which has been consuming. It seeps down to the bones, wrapping the body in a thick blanket, draining the will to live from the soul. The bright light that once surrounded the body begins to fade to gray; within the color of gray, the soul has a chance to recover and heal. There is no return, escape, or opportunity to heal when it is black. The poor soul has finally reached a place where there is no escape, locked behind a heavy iron door with the voices that claw at the mind—tearing away what remains of one's sanity. Sleep soon becomes impossible, only receiving three hours of sleep every night. At first, the body is sluggish without the energy it receives from rest, but after a year or two, It becomes accustomed to it. Therapy will help at first before everything they say turns repetitive. Medications turn the brain into mush; they might work for some people but not for a select few. Then numbness takes over, and everything that once brought you joy turns to dust. Do not worry about the family and friends; everything is faked, even laughter; you become a puppet with a painted smile fooling all those around you. Even though you are buried deep within the tar of madness, do not stop fighting. When I am awake, surrounded by people, or alone I am miserable. My heart breaks a little bit more with each passing hour. When I am asleep, when I am pleased, I dream of a life that fills me with so much happiness that it brings me to tears. When I suffer weeks of insomnia, I beg and cry to the gods to allow me to sleep so I can dream of him and our children. I desire Matthias or David; he tends to switch his name depending on my mood and how much my depression affects me. If he goes by David, there is love and a possessive personality. In those days, my dreams and thoughts were focused on the life we would have and the names of our children; Azreal, Gabriel, and Cassiel. There is endless love in our household from him and our kids; I hold them all in my arms and thank the gods and goddesses for blessing me, but then I wake up and realize that none of it is accurate and that, once again, I am alone. I spend two weeks feeling like this; Matthias appears, no longer in my dreams but walking alongside me, telling me to "give in." I can hear his voice as clear as day at any time. I haven't fallen into his temptations; no matter how hard I want to give in to letting him possess me, I always find a rational reason. I am in therapy to help me with my disorders. Do I talk about Matthias/ David to my therapist? No, because I am afraid he would make me give them up, and I don't want to. I withhold many things from my therapist: the dark cell where the real me is trapped, the tar that covers my soul, pulling me further into madness, and the voices in my head that tell me they love me. I'm starting to believe sanity is toxic and that being sane will kill me, but I will never be alone if I stay within the madness. So what will happen to me if I continue down this road? Will I finally get everything that I want? Or will the illusion end?

[scarsmood]

Vent: CW, abuse, trauma

Tired. -175 in the hole. Therapist charges me a week early and im the one that has to suffer through it.

I go to two different therapies currently. Trying to correct my BPD and Cope with my DID. I barely get by anymore on fulltime 15$ an hour. It all goes to therapy. Everything goes to therapy. I see people my age able to do most things. I can scrape up enough money to go out sometimes. Thats about it. No savings, no long term goals besides college. Just always scraping by. Just always inching closer.

The price to pay just to be functional. Well im tired of it. I’m tired of being backhanded critiscized for going to therapy and doing the work bu family. Asking me why it’s important. Why I do it at all. Friends asking me what I do for fun. Listening to the difference between someone who never had extreme trauma and me.

My first therapist considered it a miracle how well i turned things around. My current therapist is always worried about that i push myself to hard. Always plowing through trauma work. They can’t believe what i tolerate. All the memories, all the pressure, still pulling my weight anyways.

They want me to slow down. I cant afford that. I’ll do whatever it takes. I need this done. I know there isn’t a timer on healing but I can’t pretend i have endless time. I’m stopping therapy in august. After that im on my own. Because i need money. I need a career. I need a life.

Am i in danger of killing someone from snapping? Like a 10% chance. Better than 60%

Am I in danger of abusing drugs? Definitely but at least im not seeking them out like i used to.

I can handle work environment abuse now. I have learned how to cope with capitalism and its inherent trauma it places on the employee.

I still don’t know how to maintain boundaries well.

I still don’t know how to full stabilize myself.

I learned i was sexually molested violently as a child a month ago and now it just doesn’t bother me shock wise. I don’t have time to break down and cry and be a puddle. I dont have the saftey to. I certianly won’t in the future.

It’s always pushing forward and it never stops. This is survival in a world designed to destroy the disabled and marginalized and im ready to bite the systems throat and make it out better than they ever could have dreamed.

Im starting to believe I didn’t start to crave human flesh from my abusive ex boyfriend. Rather, after 5 years of being pinned financially you begin eating yourself. You slowly cannibalize your dreams, your goals, you wants and needs, until they all disappear, until you are nothing left but trying to save money and rage. For the US 15$ an hour is decent. Most people i know work 10$ an hour and can get by okay. But since im paying 800+ dollars a month on therapy It is never enough.

Nothing is ever enough. So you start taking away. More and more. Until nothing is left. Until you cant recognize yourself.

Just watch me crawl out of hell.

I’m tired. I’m angry. I’m hungry.

#vent #trauma

[wehatejulietsimms]

TW: ab*se, t*rture, su!cide, mental il!ness, ab!eism

So, before I forget, we really need to discuss Scientology (quick note: if you're easily grossed out and/or are already terrified for Andy, I suggest not reading this).

Scientology. Not only is their whole 'religion' a scam to avoid paying taxes and the police coming after them for all the controversies surrounding them because of the religious freedom America grants in the Constitution, but their religion has been dumped on quite a few times because the founder of it, L. Ron Hubbard, is a science-fiction author. Their beliefs are that Xenu, the leader of the 'Galactic Confederacy', brought billions of people to Earth in a spacecraft, stacked them with volcanoes, and then blew them all up with hydrogen bombs. They also believe that humans are 'Thetans', immortal aliens who reincarnate into child's bodies (which is why they treat children like adults, they believe children are just adults in children's bodies) and live in one eternal lifetime. Sounds a little like something straight out of a science-fiction book, right?

But to stray away from the religious part of it, let's focus on the parts that make me sick:

1. Scientologists punish people if they question or talk back to them.

2. They cut people off from their social life, work, family, friends, etc. and engulf them in Scientology only and try to cut off any ties to the outside world.

3. They force women to have abortions while at sea because they believe that no child should be born at sea.

4. There have been many allegations of abuse against staff and members.

5. They enforce child labor and have many allegations of child abuse.

6. The Sea Org, a Scientology organization, makes people sign a billion year contract.

7. They're ableist and don't believe in psychology, doctors, medicine, mental health, etc. and force people to take vitamins in replacement of their prescribed medicines, which caused multiple suicides and murders.

8. They're extremely greedy. In fact, what they claim to be the 'Bridge to Freedom' that puts people 'in the Clear' is given through million-dollar books and classes, and when a person almost reaches the last level before they reveal the 'big secret', they claim that more works have been 'found' and that they must start the process all over again to pay thousands of dollars again.

9. They're homophobic. While they believe that mental illnesses like anxiety, depression, BPD, schizophrenia, etc. and even physical disorders like arthritis and the common cold are caused by a 'reactive mind' that causes 'ailments' and can be healed through saunas and sci-fi lessons, they also believe that homosexuality is also an 'ailment'.

10. The whole religion thing only started because the IRS came for them with billion-dollar debt and they retaliated with 'We're a religion' so the IRS let them off the hook (and they filed lawsuits against every single person working in the IRS and were the very first people to 'beat' the IRS and get away with tax evasion).

11. They have absolutely no scientific evidence to prove any of their theories towards 'healing' their members or their alien beliefs.

12. Every single story of someone who has entered the Church of Scientology ends with them getting hundreds of text messages, emails, phone calls, letters, etc. from the cult asking if they want to join or be 'audited'.

13. Practice indentured servitude.

14. One girl was 'allegedly' held prisoner on a boat that belonged to Scientology for eleven years.

15. They claim that they have over ten million members worldwide, but that's only because they count everyone who enters a building or buys one of the books, not every actual member. The real number is about 25,000 today (down from 50,000 in the 1990's).

16. Read the story Hollis Jane Andrews, a woman who was interviewed to be a nanny for Scientologists' children, and the list of requirements were absolutely bat-shit crazy. It read things like 'If the kids hurt themselves, keep them quiet and apply Dianetics'. 'If the kids start crying take them outside'. 'Take them for a run and throw rocks and run with them', 'Don't stop them running ever', 'Whilst they are asleep you magically transform into a cleaning nazi', 'No phones of your own at all during work hours', 'Tidy up the bathroom, empty out the stinking poo poo bin', 'Clean the bathrooms', 'Do the laundry', 'Clean their bedrooms', 'Look for more to clean when you're finished', etc.

17. Shelly Miscavige, the wife of Scientology leader David Miscavige, hasn't been seen in the public eye since 2007, and whenever anyone asked about her, David would throw a fit of rage (some people suspect she's being held prisoner in 'The Hole', which I'll talk about later).

18. Their 'rehabilitation centers' are literally just prisons.

19. In Bible classes in some Christian schools, they have students do a project where they go to a different church they weren't a part of and do a study on it. One girl went to the Church of Scientology and the teacher explained why the students shouldn't do that and now 'Church of Scientology' is on some lists of churches the students are not allowed to go to for that project.

20. For most- if not all- of the members, they have them read a few books/courses then take them to an underground sauna everyday for weeks straight without a single day off, make them run for thirty minutes, put them in a sauna for four hours, and give them high doses of Niacin (or concentrated Vitamin B) that made them sweat profusely to release all the toxins their body, and then they take you on to the 'Bridge of Freedom' to work on your mind.

21. David Miscavige's father, Ron, left Scientology and wrote a book about him where he stated that David hit and beat people multiple times (Leah Remini confirmed this).

Now let's talk about the Gold Base. The Gold Base is the international headquarters in San Jacinto, California in the San Jacinto mountains. In the Gold Base (which is huge and holds the giant mansion Hubbard used to live in), there is an 'alleged' (hint hint) dungeon prison called 'The Hole'. Scientology members get sent there if they violate the code of ethics (from doubting Scientology to merely pissing off the leader). It can house up to 100 people and there is no furniture. People sleep cramped on the packed floor or on desks, it's infested with bugs, people get tortured there, people are humiliated and abused, a lot of racist, sexist, and homophobic actions take place, some are forced to walk on all fours for hours while confessing to the 'crimes' they've committed (sometimes, crimes they haven't), and there's literally no way out. The Hole is surrounded by razor-wire fences (with razors that point in both directions), motion detectors, cameras, and even snipers. So the question is, why hasn't this been shut down or investigated? 'Religious rights' under the First Amendment.

And that's all I have to say about Scientology for now. If anyone wants to know about exactly what Scientology believes they're doing to people's minds with auditing and Dianetics, just let me know and thanks for coming to my TED Talk ✌🏽

this is why Andy can't "just leave". i know everyone wants him to and i wish it were that easy but some people just are unaware of the power that these people have. i hope he'll get out in time and it's looking good for him but it'll take awhile.

(also i'm not claiming Andy has ever been subjected to anything listed i'm just saying these people have a tight grip on people involved in the church so Andy can't just leave.)

[kidmetsu-no-yaiba]

What They Do When You’re Having A ‘Split’ And Become Angry  

This includes: Tsukishima, Kuroo, Bokuto, Kita, Suga, Ennoshita, Ushijima

This is just how I perceive them as what they would do for a best friend/romantic partner that experiences BPD anger in a similar way as I do. Also I'm off my stabilizers haha..ha.

Also none of these are meant to be mean about the characters I literally chose my faves for this.

Uh TW for bpd I guess?

Gender Neutral reader bay bee

Tsukishima (Not the trigger):

Doesn’t even recognize it at first, thinks its just a normal bad day from work

After, like, 30 minutes of you just sitting there and glaring at your phone without talking or even changing your expression he starts to get a clue.

Goes about his normal chores that upset you, but he plays your “Calming” playlist out loud on his phone just loud enough for you to hear

If he’s exhausted every chore and you still haven’t talked, he purposefully looks for funny or interesting news articles about stuff you like and reads the headlines out to you to get you to look at him or talk

Once you start at least looking at him, hopefully talking too, begins trying to coax out what triggered you

Ignores if you make any outright mean or just passive aggressive comments towards him instead of answering but will get aggressive in return

If he manages to get What Happened out of you he immediately calls you an idiot. Regardless of what it is. Is a mean comforter.

“Getting mad over your best friend talking on the phone too long while you’re hanging out isn’t an excuse to be mean”

“You’re stupid if you think it’s your fault that your friends aren’t paying attention to you, not everything is about you.”

It hurts but, it works even if sometimes it feels like he’s going a Bit Too Far

Will watch comforting videos or shows with you if it calms you down but that's about it. Very big on “You’re an adult and I’m not your psychiatrist, figure it out yourself.”

Kuroo (Is the trigger):

Instantly recognizes the Shut Down while teasing you, when you stop responding, your face is blank except for your down turned eyes.

‘Oh I’ve Fucked Up™’ is his immediate thought

“Y/N you know I didn’t mean that right? We were just playing, I’m sorry!” “Don’t you have a proposal to finish.”

Immediate shoulder drop. Is also upset now but decides to wait a little bit before trying to calm you.

After 30min or so of you hiding under your blanket he decides it’s time to try and pull you out of your head.

Cooks your most aromatic favorite food so the smell wafts into your room

Blasts your comfort playlist on a speaker and loudly sings along to it

When you still don’t come out when the food is done, sits outside the door saying “oh FUCK this shit is BUSSIN’” comically loud, overexaggerates your favorite things about it outloud.

When you eventually give in, just to get some food, he corners you with his body

“What about what I said upset you?” As a genuine question, not a mean one

After you explain, he lets you eat and offers a sincere apology when you finish

Offers to draw a bath with your favorite scent if it’ll help you. It does.

Bokuto (Is the trigger):

You came home and Bokuto had the tv up high while watching tiktoks and listening to music. After a moment the tea kettle went off. Before turning it off he realized you had walked in and bounded over to you. There were Too Many Noises.

He tried to talk over the noise but realized your eyes were boring into his and you had The Look

Also a ‘Oh I’ve Fucked Up™’

Rushes to take the kettle off the heat and turn off his phone before checking on you only to see you’ve already gone in and shut the bedroom door. You didn’t even take your shoes off..

Big pouty, sulky fool. Mopes around for a bit after turning off all the noise in the house.

Eventually looks for other things that upset you and finds that the house is, kind of a mess actually. Decides to clean as quietly as possible.

Does all of your least favorite chores first incase you re-emerge from the bedroom too soon

When everything seems to be done he opens your door and finds you tucked into bed and scrolling on your phone, very quiet music playing from it.

It was only 5pm but he took off his street clothes and climbed into bed as well. 

Absolutely gets up behind you and grabs you around your waist and snuggles in without saying anything even though he wants to

When you finally feel comfortable you look over your shoulder to see Bokutos already fallen asleep. Idiot. 

You order takeout for when he wakes up because, even though he tried his hardest to be quiet, you could hear him washing the dishes and didn’t want to ruin the work he did for you

Kita (Not the trigger):

Very straightforward the second he realizes you are Not Good

"Y/N if you tell me what's wrong it'll end quicker" 

When you don't even look at him he still continues talking "We both know you hate when you're like this. It'll make you feel better if you just talk to me even if you don't want to."

Is fairly stern when talking to you at the beginning. Not mean but just very much like 'this is going to get done whether or not you cooperate.'

If you don't cooperate then he begins to ignore you until you snap and eventually scream and air out everything that's wrong and what triggered you. 

Goes through everything you said with you and gives you an objective perspective although it basically boils down to "I know you can't help it but your ego is hurting you. Not Everything Is About You."

Once your conversation on that is over he asks if you want him to watch tiktok or listen to music or something with you

 Suga (Is the trigger):

He hadn’t meant to ignore you all day. He’d woken up before you and been so busy at work all day he didn’t get a chance to text. It was the club he advised’s meeting day and it was dragging on longer than usual, he hadn’t texted anyone all day to be fair

When he finally comes home he’s confused as to why you’re tucked in on the couch

“Hey Y/N you tired? Sorry I didn’t get a chance to talk today there was a lot of bureaucratic shit going on and then the club president decided we were all going to stay until the end of the activity. Kids am I right?” He laughs and smiles towards you but you continue to ignore him

After some physical encouragement, poking and whatnot, it dawned on him that you are Probably Going Through It

Jesus Christ

Immediately decides he is not having it and moves your legs off the couch so he can sit next you

“Y/N I looovvveeee youuuuu~~~” He says as he pulls you to him by the shoulders “I love you I love you I love youuu” 

Just babbles honestly, goes on and on about how he didn’t mean to ignore you and how he was honestly busy but he’s here now

And like yeah, he is here now so eventually you level out and let yourself be coddled for a bit longer

Makes pinky promises that he promises to text you when he’s busy or going to be running late

Also runs you a nice bath just in case

Ennoshita (Not the trigger):

Knows what's going on because he’s been watching you stare at the tv for about 20 minutes but, the tv is off. 

Is objective with his words like Kita but with more emotional appeal

“Y/N I know you’re in the middle of something but when you’re ready, I’ll be ready to listen to you,”

If, after a while, you don’t make any effort to talk to him he tries to point you in a better direction than staring at walls and moping around

“You don’t have to talk to me but I found a tiktok I think you’d enjoy” or “You know you haven’t tried that new nail polish you bought a bit ago” 

Is okay with just letting you figure it out on your own so you can apply the stuff you’ve worked on with your psychiatrist but will feel a little guilty if he doesn’t say anything at all

Will do anything that you need to get done but aren’t because of your episode like dishes or tidying your room

Ushijima (Not the trigger):

First of all, calls your episodes “tantrums”

Literally has no clue when you’re in an episode unless you tell him, he is not very bright

If you do tell him that you’re having issues he defaults to trying to use physical affection against whatever it is that you’re feeling

May or may not make you angrier by doing that

Although he wasn’t the original trigger, him being so dense might override it tbh

Like you love him but oh my god oh my god oh my god how have you survived this long 

Eventually decides “I do not know how to deal with this” and just leaves. He goes to the store and gets the shopping done for the next 2 weeks and gets some cool looking snacks. 

Thinks ‘well I’m already out, I might as well get the car washed’ after, turns into ‘Oh Y/N needed to get their new prescription too..’ ‘I think I remember a discussion about their package getting stuck at the post office..’

Literally accidentally does every single errand that needed to be done for the next month because he didn’t want to go home and upset you more

When he finally comes back home with 50lbs worth of shit from errands you’re like ????? because how did he know that you were stressed about all the house stuff that needed to be done????? 

It’s not an instant mood changer but you definitely go from seemingly uncontrollable rage to ‘Okay I was being a bit much’ but as you watch him prep veggies before storing them away the way you usually do it, you level out

He is unaware you’ve levelled out so he tries to remember the coping skills you said you talked about with your psychiatrist and you are deeply confused when he asks you to open your palm and places an ice cube in it

When you realize what’s going on you laugh and tell him you’re okay and apologize for how you were being earlier and explain what triggered you

He gives you the cool looking snacks

#Haikyuu #tsukishima #kuroo #bokuto #suga #sugawara #kita #Kita Shinsuke #Ennoshita #Ushijima #tsukishima kei #kuroo tetsurō #Bokuto kotarou #sugawara koushi #ennoshita chikara #Ushijima Wakatoshi #Ushiwaka #haikyu imagines #imagines #this is my first time writing anything for anything and im dead inside

[traumatizeddfox]

Borderliner here again! Glad if I could help even a little bit.

DBT was specifically developed for BPD if I remember correctly but I know we used CBT in the clinic too. It's funny bc although the clinic was equally as bad as it was good and it helped me and revealed a lot about me to myself. So although I'm not typical borderline bc I act in instead of out, I know for sure I'm quiet borderline.

Nonetheless every therapist I've went to introductory sessions with since then has immediately said I've been misdiagnosed after like 10 seconds of talking to me 🙃 either that or you just never even get to be added to the wait list bc they don't wanna treat you

But that's why we gotta all support each other!!

Anyway. I decided to go for a therapy trial with a trauma therapist that I was lucky enough to get (after lots of panicking over the multiple phone calls it took, and panic now about rescheduling and shit). So that starts in February. And we're starting out with secondary trauma bc my parents passed down their trauma to be (they're genocide refugees, and I have been back to the country and stayed there a lot in post-war times) and it has in the past caused almost psychotic states. I'm afraid it might trigger even worse panic over my parents bc they already make me feel unsafe (they're a big reason I have been self harming for 15 years now - and when I went to them during a full day break down/panic attack and told them I need help they just stared at me blankly. I could literally only shake and cry and think about how I'm about to kill myself without any control over myself all day and they literally told me "just finish the next 4 weeks of school and then we can all go on vacation" - and in my dreams my parents have tried to feed me to dinosaurs bc that's how it has to be, they've been he reason my cat almost died and got his leg ripped off, they watched my face get eaten alive by giant worms and told me it was my own fault (again all dreams) ). I still live with my parents. I'm still mostly submissive to them and I'm afraid.

But also I cant not do therapy bc I'm so fucking tired. No meds stop my nightmares. I dream of rape, war, violence, killing, running for my life, wounds, break downs, sobbing, my house being broken into, being shot at, fires all around, kids being abused in different ways, like every single night. It's just as torturous as being awake and I'm really trying to not use my secret stash for suicide plans so like I need this therapy

But... I'm so fucking terrified

In the bpd clinic I broke down and almost faint and developed migraines and had half my body go numb and useless - just when I was trying to stay present and acknowledge there was a problem. The therapist there had me bawling my eyes out bc he was like "say something good about yourself" and I legit couldn't. I had daily migraines for months. I actually have a job I like now (still in training tbh but it's with animals so it's really nice) but I'm so afraid I'm about to lose everything. It feels like I could get further if I got back into my bad regulating habits.

I'm trying so hard to do things right. I really am. But my mind and body betray me all the time and I'm so so scared

It's like no matter what I do there's no rest, no help, nothing right and good

I'm so sorry this turned into my whining lmao but uh yeah :(

I recently discovered your blog and I love it. I resonate with the rage and the dog teeth :D wanna get into vent art too eventually. If I can handle the emotion that is lol

i am so sorry to hear this angel 💔 i really hope life turns around for you & i hope the new therapist helps u! it sucks when you don’t feel validated. and tysm! vent art has helped me so much

#anon

[littleoddwriter]

You’re Alright (Part 3) | Roman Sionis x Male!Reader

I’ve had a terrible day and an even worse evening, so I finally got around to write the third part of this vent fic/series that I’ve been meaning to write since the Holidays, lol. I hope those, who actually read it, enjoy it!  Part 1; Part 2.

summary; You’ve been having a terrible day and your shower made it a whole lot worse. 

notes; TW // Contamination OCD; BPD; Intrusive Thoughts; Thoughts of Self-Harm; Description of Injuries/Wounds that reader has (open wounds, which are bleeding and oozing puss). Male!Reader; Hurt/Comfort; Fluff; Roman is trying y’all; Feeling extremely bad and overwhelmed by it; Being taken care of.

Part 3

All day long, you've been feeling awful. You were in physical pain, due to a headache and the wounds that not only littered your hands and wrists, but your forearms up to the elbows, by then. Because of that, you were also in an emotional state of distress. It was tiring and as soon as you had woken up, you couldn't wait for this day to just fucking end. Naturally, when you finally decided to go for your daily shower, it all got even worse. Over the past week and a half, a lot more wounds had appeared on your hands and wrists especially, making them stark red and bleed and ooze puss constantly. It was upsetting and nothing helped. Yet, you tried to just keep going despite the utter pain and helplessness you felt. By then your chest had also started to get wounded, which you thought had healed again, because that was a spot you've been dealing with for years, so you knew what to do and how to help it. For some reason, it didn't work out quite as well. After your shower, when you had dried yourself, you took a peak at your chest, just to check if you had to apply any products to it again, before dressing. When you looked down, you choked. There was blood. Wounds that haven't bled before now have. At the same time, you also saw your wrists, angry red and oozing puss and blood and hurting so badly. It was incredibly upsetting. Immediately, you averted your eyes and turned your head to the side and up to the ceiling. You breathed in and out deeply, a pathetic whine stuck in your throat. The distress was overwhelming, the urge to cry and harm yourself startled you, choked you, made your chest feel tight and heavy. Without realising it, you have started to shake your arms and hands, flapping them to try and make way for the emotions, to make them pass. At the same time, you wiggled your legs, bouncing up and down, and back and fourth. You just wanted to stop feeling like that. You didn't want to give into the urges, the thoughts that plagued your mind now. You just wanted it to fucking stop! It only got worse each fucking day. It only got more and more painful, more exhausting, more frustrating. You had no idea what to do. You were a burden to Roman. Of all things that upset you about your situation, this might actually have been the thing you felt most distraught about. The knowledge that Roman saw how it progressively got worse each day. That he knew how much it upset you, how much it put you in an emotional low each and every day, and how it was only getting worse. The fact that he couldn't do anything annoyed him, you knew that. It made you feel bad. You wanted to get better. You wanted it so much. Yet, you kept scratching yourself open. You kept waking up to new wounds. You kept making new ones during the day. He's tried to stop you from scratching several times, verbally and physically. It didn't help. It only made you angry. So he stopped. When you had calmed down enough, you quickly put on your shirt, breathing heavily. You got dressed in record time and finished your routine just as fast. Afterwards, you finally left the bathroom, still trapped in the prison that was your own mind. On one hand, you were glad that it was already in the late evening, but on the other hand you cursed that because you were feeling in such utter distress now that you weren't sure as to how you were supposed to be able to sleep later on. At the same time, your elbows were itching and burning so badly, so that you couldn't help yourself and started scratching them until you bled and they felt like they were on fire. You startled, when suddenly two strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you against a warm, solid body. Closing your eyes for a moment and just inhaling his scent, you relaxed a little into Roman's embrace. You loosely grasped onto his shirt with your hands, making sure your wrists stayed away from it, as you were still oozing whatever it was now and you didn't want to ruin his shirt with it, of course. "Are you alright, my sweet boy?" Roman asked, pressing his masked face into your wet hair, as he stroked your back gently. "Not really, no," you mumbled into his chest. "Is it the usual? Did anything happen?" "Yes, and hmmm, kind of? I don't know. It's just... Nevermind, it doesn't matter. Sorry. It's nothing new." You squeezed your eyes shut, willing down the urge to cry once more. "If you don't want to talk, that's fine, I don't mind that, but don't hold back just because you don't think it's worth hearing, alright?" Roman spoke so gently. He was so patient with you, it made your breath stutter. You couldn't possibly understand what you've done to deserve his patience and understanding, his love, of all things, when everyone else always just received his utter disdain and rage. "It's just... Well, I've kinda been shocked after my shower? My chest was all bloody and gross, just like my wrists and stuff. And now I've scratched open my elbows, too. I'm just frustrated, really. And in pain. Always in pain," you chuckled self-deprecatingly at the end. "Aw, my sweet boy. Frankly, I don't know what to do anymore. We've tried so much now. This is really frustrating, you're right. Is there at least anything we can try to ease your mind a little, hm?" "I don't know, I'm sorry. I'm just so tired, you know? I kind of just... want to disappear, really." "Don't say that, sweetheart. If you'd rather just go to sleep, we can do that. Alright? I'll just get myself ready for bed and we can go, eh?" "Yeah, okay, sounds good. Thank you, Roman, so much." In answer, he squeezed you tightly for a moment and then let go of you to vanish into the bathroom himself. Meanwhile, you lay down on the bed and pulled up the blanket to your chin. You were hurting, your wounds were throbbing, stabbing, burning and itching. It was hell on your skin. It was terribly hard to resist to make it worse, too. You were baffled by your mind as it saw making it all worse as the only logical solution to relieve yourself of the pain. It was bullshit. Yet, it seemed so very tempting. Not much later, Roman finally came back and lay down beside you, as he got under the blanket with you. He wrapped one of his arms around your shoulders, as you cuddled into his side, putting your arms around his middle and laying your head on his chest. "I hope this is going to find an end soon, sweetheart," Roman whispered, while stroking over your back gently. "Thank you, me too. And I'm sorry for causing you so much trouble with it, I---" "Ssshhh, no. You're not. So don't apologise, alright? It's fine. You're alright, my sweet boy. You know I could easily just... not care. I could just get rid of you. But I'm not doing that, now am I?" "No, you're not. I don't understand why, but I'll take it." "Trust me, for a huge part, I don't really understand it either. I just know that I care a lot more than I'd like to, or am used to, really," he said, pressing his masked face against your hair again, in mock of a gentle kiss. It made you smile and you proceeded to kiss his chest in turn. "Try to sleep now, hm? I'm here and if you should need anything or not be able to sleep, we'll find something." Yawning, you nodded, squeezing Roman tightly. "Thank you. I love you, Roman. Good night," you mumbled sleepily, the exhaustion of the day and especially night suddenly catching up with you. "I adore you too, my sweet boy. Good night," Roman replied, stroking your hair gently, while your breaths slowly evened out.

#Tw contamination OCD #tw bpd #tw open wounds #tw blood mention #tw intrusive thoughts #tw mentions of self harm #x male reader #x male!reader #male reader #male reader insert #roman sionis #roman sionis x male reader #roman sionis x y/n #roman sionis x you #roman sionis fanfiction #roman sionis imagine

[mamacleo]

"We don't want to be doing this either."

CW/TW: Frank talk about borderline personality disorder. Can be triggering.

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What did they give you?

Did they give you love? Did they give you respect? Did they give you support?

Did they give you abuse? Did they give you disrespect? Were you on your own?

If it's both? Unpredictable? Nearly random? And constant?

Imagine being in Marine boot camp. That for no reason you can grasp, either everyone hates you or you think they do. Imagine every expression of respect or support is suspect because you know it carries conditions that can cripple you. Because there is never any knowing if a good word hides a fist or a knife.

Imagine, too, that when you screw up, you will be physically hazed for you don't know how long, how hard, and it is random. What got praise yesterday can leave you bruised today. Or scarred. Heaven help you if they should get creative.

It comes with brainwashing. Always. Being told you deserve what you get. Your self-worth being dismantled with verbal violence. Always with the voice of rage. The sound of rage. You hear it coming before it arrives now. You are powerless to stop it.

There are no rules. There are no guidelines. There are no patterns. Any time, day or night. In your sleep. While you're eating. While you're resting.

Imagine being on guard for all of this all day, every day. Your amygdala, lighting up all day and feeding you nightmares at night. The constant short breath, the constant flow of adrenaline. Always assessing your surroundings in the vain hopes you might escape.

Now imagine that Marine boot camp lasting for twenty years.

How would you come out? What kind of a broken person would you be if you went into boot camp and it didn't end? Didn't stop? Worse than you imagined? You had no idea how long it would last? Every day, hoping it's the last, hoping there'll be a break, but there isn't and no one will tell you when it's gonna end.

Waking moment to sleep, then the nightmares. Lather, rinse, repeat. Twenty years. Maybe more.

Could you do it? Could you do it without committing suicide? Could you?

Would the Geneva Conventions allow us to do that to prisoners of war? Could we stand before The Hague and escape judgment?

What would you be like if you went into the Marines as a young adult and were trapped in it, no escape, no hope, and didn't come out until you were middle-aged? Two decades of this? Can you imagine this being done by the Marines and there not being a Congressional inquiry?

Could you do this to an adult human being?

It happens to children. Every day. Every, every day. By parents. Teachers. Relatives. Schoolmates. Clergy. Youth leaders.

The results of this are, for most victims, devastating. For most of us, we end up with this thing that psychologists tagged "Borderline Personality Disorder." That's what BPD is, not bipolar disorder, if you were wondering. The pathology of it is complex. It's brutally hard to cope with.

It's emotions ratcheted up way past 11. The best word I have for it is "operatic." Every cruelty is Carmen, every battle is Ride of the Valkyries, every terror is Don Giovanni. The pain, and it is an emotional pain so severe you feel it all over your body, is excruciating enough to make you scream. (At first.) I could tell you how it usually goes, but there is no usually goes. That's the horror of it. It's devious.

It knows you better than you do, because it's fueled by your subconscious and knows all the secrets you won't consciously admit to yourself. It will not hesitate for a heartbeat to use them to crush you, because believe me, BPD is all about destroying yourself. In your mind, you're just finishing the job the world started.

You're easily triggered. It can be anything. It can be nothing. You may not know what did it. It might hit like a shot. It might build up. It might come over you like a tsunami. Once it starts, you can't stop it. Not usually.

For instance: I have been showing borderline symptoms since I was about 11. I've been like this for 49 years. Only in the last two have I made the kind of progress to where I can now either divert or resolve the episode without the usual damage.

It wasn't easy. Though I didn't realize it until just this very moment, I used it against itself. I worked hard on this, obsessively, compulsively, for close to 40 years, and my progress is phenomenal.

All the fierce concentration, the operatic fears, the delusional thinking--I've gotten very, very good at it--and I still can't always stop it. I have strategies, but they don't always work. Every time is different.

Think about that. EVERY TIME IS DIFFERENT.

If you have not gone through it, you simply cannot imagine it. And the exhaustion. Oh, holy Hera, the exhaustion. You cannot imagine the crushing weight of a lifetime of this. It affects your physical health. People who don't have this don't understand, *it's cumulative.* And like arsenic, you can't flush it out.

The best you ever do is manage it. It's a life sentence. There's no escape. Your brain was hardwired to be like this. Like John Mulaney says, "We don't want to be doing this either." With work, and it takes a LOT of work, you can make it better.

But not everyone has it. Not everyone is strong. Not everyone is brave. Not everyone can make the right decisions. Not everyone can think clearly.

Most of us don't even realize it. I didn't until I was 58 years old and a shrink diagnosed me following a suicide attempt. How can you fix it when you don't know that it's there? Shrinks don't want to deal with us. We take work, exhausting work. We're hard to live with. They'd rather just medicate us, and not all of us respond to what few meds there are.

Now allow me to blow your mind.

THERE ARE TENS OF MILLIONS OF US.

We're "the weird kid." The dork. The manic pixie dream chick. The ones who hated ourselves so much it showed. That doesn't change. It never changes. There is no therapy, no counseling, no medicine that will ever get rid of that deep, tenacious rupture that is BPD self-loathing. The best you do is come to terms with it.

The stigma must end. It's difficult. We have a long road. It's only recently becoming known and there is a lot of fear of us. It's not unwarranted, either. People get caught up in our emotional storms and get hurt. Occasionally even physically. I will tell you hard things, but I will not lie to you: we have deeds to answer for.

Mine is managed, at last, but it still can't be controlled. I just spent a week in a particularly cruel one. And went into one last night. I got out, but the shadow of it will linger a day or two.

The best you can do is come up with strategies. That is something I can help others do now, and it is going to make everything that has gone before worth it.

#borderline #borderline personality problems #borderline personality disorder #trans #trans woman #borderline treatment #borderline acceptance

[boredliondisorder]

Let's say you knew all about BPD before going to therapy, and you were diagnosed already. Would you still have gone to therapy, do you believe it was worth it for you? I don't know if it's worth going for me, I know I'll never be able to get that attachment, love and trust that I need anyways, might as well just pretend to be an NT until I can die. It's a life full of pain for sure but we'll have that anyways, won't we? Why therapy? Was hoping you could share the benefits you got from it.

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Oh this might be a long one. OK.

I was actually diagnosed over ten years ago in 2008, iirc. At that point, I was in the hospital and was told that I either had to see a therapist of the doctor’s choosing, or I’d stay in the hospital for an indeterminate length of time. Staying in the hospital would cause me to lose my job, etc, So I agreed to see a therapist.

It took them quite a while to find someone who would treat a person with a diagnosis of BPD. Back then, BPD was seen as incurable and dangerous. No one wanted to risk their career or their life treating someone with BPD. Even though it turned out that people with BPD (those who legitimately suffered from it and weren’t just abusive) are not dangerous, and their outbursts are based around fear. Many thanks to Dr. Linehan for her work in that area.

Anyway, to make that long story short, the therapist tried to convince me I didn’t have BPD. It was a nightmare all around, and I left as soon as I could.

So I lived with that diagnosis for eleven years, not truly understanding it, warning people about it, both attaching myself to people and HATING that attachment to people, going through minor ups and downs, until a medical problem caused the anti-psychotics I was on to stop working.

Then I actually had to face the diagnosis. It started to get bad. But it was such a slow process that I didn’t realize it. Eventually, I hurt the people who mattered to me most, which is what BPD tends to lead to over and over and over, and I realized that if it happened again, I wouldn’t be able to take it. I’d rather kill myself than live through that again. I had to break the cycle.

I really did want to live. I wanted to live to finish my book, to see my nephews grow up, to achieve my dream of getting venomous snake certification and working with my favorite elapid, the king cobra. I couldn’t do all that if I was dead.

At the time I decided to go back to therapy, I knew SO MUCH about BPD. I was sure it would be useless for me for the same reasons you do: that I was doomed to repeat this pattern for the rest of my (possibly short) life, working at trust for weeks and months, then losing it because of a disease that refuses to disappear. A lot of this is in my previous posts, so I won’t go into it all in detail again, but my mind finally got to a point where it refused to accept friendship. I didn’t talk to anyone except my parents, my sister, and my best friend for weeks.

I found a therapist who specialized in BPD. And that’s important, because she helped me discover where my BPD came from--where it started and the reasons for it--as well as learning to question the fears that often led to the stereotypical “borderline rage.” She taught me how to take a step back and re-evaluate. To leave a situation alone for a while until I had a legitimate answer. To actually have discussions with people instead of accusing.

I’ve already been able to use these new skills when it comes to very slowly forming bonds with people. That’s another thing I learned--how to not go from 0 to 60 in a new friendship, but develop it slowly. To not saddle new friends with my problems, but to get to know them first. And sometimes it turns out--as I’ve found a couple times already--that those friends aren’t right for hearing my issues, and I would have hurt myself by rushing into an unsustainable friendship.

And this took... so much time. I am still learning. And I think I always will have to continue learning, because BPD isn’t curable. The things most people know when it comes to emotion and relationships aren’t things that come to us naturally. You can recover from BPD, but the skills you learn are hard-fought and difficult to master. In a lot of ways, a person with BPD who has recovered is always going to have to “fake it” in the simplest of terms.

But that’s okay. To paraphrase the saying, if you can’t naturally form healthy emotional attachments, therapy-learned is okay, too.

In your ask, you said “might as well just pretend to be an NT until I can die.” And honestly, that’s... The whole point of therapy. Therapy’s going to help you pretend, and over time, pretending will become easier. Almost natural. And there will be days when you want to backtrack. When you want to say “why don’t you love me?” to your very best friends. But you’ll have the tools to Not Do That, which is more than you might have now.

It’s unfortunate that NTs refuse to truly accommodate those with BPD, but they really can’t understand it because they don’t grasp the intensity of the emotions we suffer. They don’t understand why we’re asking them to help us in a certain way, or fuck, to just pick up a book and read about the disorder. NTs on tumblr have also been told over and over that they’re justified for “leaving abusive people, even if they’re mentally ill,” and that’s where the mindset remains. So many people equate the symptoms of BPD with actual abuse, so much so that when you tell a neurotypical person that you have BPD, the response I’ve always gotten without fail is “but you don’t seem like that type of person.”

I’m working to change that. I don’t think I could do that without therapy. It’s an uphill battle, but I think I’ve gotten through to some people already. I’m going to continue to try.

In summary, it’s okay to use therapy as a way to learn how to pretend. And in pretending, you’ll learn to feel better, because you won’t be destroying your friendships at every turn. When the low part of your cycle starts its upswing, you’ll still have friends there to help you. Try not to resent them too much for their ignorance.

There is light at the end of the tunnel, even if it’s a lot of work. But I guarantee that if you find a therapist you like who specializes in BPD, you’ll eventually start to see improvement. Seriously. I think we’re all naturally suspicious and we’re so sure that therapy can’t help us, but it really can. I’ve been right where you are, and I’m glad I decided to go.

#Anonymous