humanneedtobewitnessed

[humanneedtobewitnessed]

"The one who hurt you", are you still clinging on to that pathetic excuse?

He hurt you briefly and then left, you're fine.

You show less that two symptoms of bpd, learn some fucking respect before you self-diagnose.

An open letter to the one who hurt me:

Do you know what borderline personality disorder is?

Because I didn't.

I repressed the event, so my psychiatrist wouldn't even have thought of it as an option.

I spent months believing that I had no excuse, that I was a psychopathic manipulator, scared of myself, scared of what I'd do next and how it would hurt my family and friends.

And maybe burn this into your fucking skull: that's your fault.

One of your excuses was "I don't have many other friends".

Gee.

Wonder why.

[humanneedtobewitnessed]

For a while, it was a reliable source of dopamine to obsess over my one and only ever crush (who is a massive asshole and we both distanced from eachother).

To revel in the sheer mania of obsession was gratifying to me, but it stopped working recently.

I've tried to get dopamine from unrelated sexual fantasies, but every time I do I feel like vomiting, no pleasure either.

On the good side, that means my more distressing kinks are gone from me now.

Was I really ever hypersexual? Was I before, and it just left? Is it something to do with my hormone replacement therapy?

It could be nothing, just a one-off thing to force me to yearn less.

If i find out that it was the one who hurt me coming back for another way to ruin me, I'll drag him down to hell myself.

[humanneedtobewitnessed]

What is this blog?

This blog is a manner of laying out all my thoughts related to my trauma to properly process it.

In order to sort my thoughts into categories (and because autism won't leave me alone), there will be three different characters representing my types of thoughts.

Richard is more analytical, Rasmus is more raw and vulgar, and Don Juan is more emotional and romance-based.

It's like that one Tumblr post about visualizing your thought process as a board meeting except more autistic because of hotline miami brainworm.

[humanneedtobewitnessed]

An open letter to the one who hurt me:

Do you know what borderline personality disorder is?

Because I didn't.

I repressed the event, so my psychiatrist wouldn't even have thought of it as an option.

I spent months believing that I had no excuse, that I was a psychopathic manipulator, scared of myself, scared of what I'd do next and how it would hurt my family and friends.

And maybe burn this into your fucking skull: that's your fault.

One of your excuses was "I don't have many other friends".

Gee.

Wonder why.

[humanneedtobewitnessed]

Sometimes I wish what happened to me was easier to grieve.

More common and clear cut.

Easier to reconcile.

But I know this is foolish.

The exact things that stop the incident from being easier to grieve are the same things that likely stopped me from being further harmed.

I wish I could just wish something happened without being caught in a paradox.

[humanneedtobewitnessed]

I know things are truly wrong when even in my dreams I desperately attempt to become a sex object for the approval of others.

The only languages I know anymore are sex and death.

The only way I know how to be valued by others is as a sex object. Social approval is shakey and often non-existent, I suppose I want something more concrete.

That even if they abandon me, I was worth something.

To seek this out from sex is a ludicrous, pathetic notion.