life with bpd is always trying to fill a huge hole in your chest. you spend your life looking for a cure that doesn't really exist
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i be in my own head fighting for my life
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literally feels like a myth that there are people who don't struggle with basic tasks like getting out of bed or going to the shops or seeing a friend for coffee. how does everything not feel like a painstaking chore for them. how do they have the physical and emotional energy every single day
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I have bpd, of course I assume everyone is going to abandon me for no reason.
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*experiences symptoms when no one is around to see me* I have got to stop faking for attention
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my ultimate fantasy is having a brain that lets me enjoy being alive
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there’s something wrong with me.
there’s something wrong with me.
there’s something wrong with me.
there’s something wrong with me.
there’s something wrong with me.
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