remembering the fact bpd is considered a terminal illness and my own brain is trying to constantly kill me. im never going to be okay.
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i think im getting better! :) [another event occurs]
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It hurts.
It hurts so much.
I need someone, anyone, to love me.
Being unlovable hurts.
It's the pain of knowing that noone can ever love me the way I love them.
To love the way I do is to burn and scratch open my skin just to try and show you a part of me.
It's to always wait for something.
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im not pretty im not cute im not sexy and it makes me wanna die. i hate my face, my body, everything about my physical appearance. living this way is hell
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i think i was just made to look pretty and sit on a shelf
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Nothing works anymore, drugs don’t work (escaping reality) medication doesn’t work (happy pills/sedation pills/sleep pills, therapy/venting/ranting/talking about it doesn’t help, doing happy stuff doesn’t work, no matter what I do nothing changes or feels any different.
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why is it so hard for you to want me and only me? why am I so hard to want? why am I never fucking enough for you?
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i feel trapped in my own body
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im sorry im sorry i don't mean to be like this im sorry
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You hate me? You hate me. I hate me too.
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