ijustneedabreakfrommainaccount

[ijustneedabreakfrommainaccount]

Everyone desperately trying to make me believe that I just don’t live up to my “potential” and choose to be “lazy” is so fucking exhausting. I’m a disabled person. Both physically and mentally, why can’t you just accept there are certain aspects of my life that I will likely struggle with indefinitely.

No I can’t drive, in addition to my anxiety I have strict orders from my doctor. It doesn’t matter if you believe you can teach me, and you’re a really good driver (news flash, everyone believes this). No I can’t work out everyday, I physically can not handle that kind of routine (and yes even walking everyday is too much). No I can not be held responsible for maintaining contact with relatives when I’m the only one expected to make said contact and the idea of talking on the phone literally puts me in tears most times (Executive Dysfunction with ADHD, and lack of visual input to read people’s reactions makes this legitimately painful). No I can not just “go with it” when someone drops plans on me with less than 12-24hours notice, my anxiety hates me. No I can not just “let it go” when you cross a boundary and trigger one of my mental disorders by being inconsiderate. And no I can not just “get help” as most locations require so much background information, and proof that I’m fucking useless, that I can’t just fix it. Also if I can’t properly prove how much help I need it’s going to be damned expensive or ineffective.

Just let me live my life without making me feel like I’m failing at everything 😭 I’m so tired of having to constantly tell deaf ears that I have legitimate reasons for having these problems. “Family” is supposed to support you and help you, not gaslight you constantly into thinking every problem you face is a deliberate attempt at self sabotage. I don’t want to feel guilty for existing anymore.

[ijustneedabreakfrommainaccount]

One of the biggest things I struggle with when it comes to getting diagnosed with BPD is that I feel like I was diagnosed with a terminal illness. I am emotionally handicapped, I will be in immense pain and will have to carefully evaluate my entire personality on a day to day basis. If I slack off at all then the people around me along with myself will be emotionally punished. There is no cure, the only thing known to help is really intensive therapy that I can’t afford anymore. I am going to be this way until I die and there’s nothing me or anybody else can do about it.

I am going to suffer until the day that I die and I will drag everybody around me down too. And they will let me because they misplaced their love.

It is very difficult to get through the day, to get out of bed, knowing that.

[ijustneedabreakfrommainaccount]

[ijustneedabreakfrommainaccount]

[ijustneedabreakfrommainaccount]

“The best people possess a feeling for beauty, the courage to take risks, the discipline to tell the truth, the capacity for sacrifice. Ironically, their virtues make them vulnerable; they are often wounded, sometimes destroyed.”

— Ernest Hemingway

[ijustneedabreakfrommainaccount]

“It hurts to live after someone has died. It just does. It can hurt to walk down a hallway or open the fridge. It hurts to put on a pair of socks, to brush your teeth. Food tastes like nothing. Colors go flat. Music hurts, and so do memories. You look at something you’d otherwise find beautiful–a purple sky at sunset or a playground full of kids–and it only somehow deepens the loss. Grief is so lonely this way.”

–Michelle Obama, Becoming

[ijustneedabreakfrommainaccount]

there is a point in your depression where you just give up on getting better but you still won’t kill yourself. you just float around in this state of nothingness and don’t notice anything around you because you’re just so numb and you just don’t want to do anything about it anymore

[ijustneedabreakfrommainaccount]

And yes. My ex boyfriend is my best friend. So fucking what? Yeah maybe that’s weird to you, but it is the only option we have, because we accept the fact that we aren’t supposed to romantically be together right now. But we also understand that our souls have never clicked so perfectly with anyone else before. So we’re best friends. We talk about sex with other people, we cry, we make fun of each other, we tell each other when we’re being stupid, we know how to make each other laugh, and we answer each other’s calls at any hour of the night and don’t hang up until we know we’re both going to bed happy. And that’s that. Wouldn’t have it any other way. To anyone that’s ever been through a breakup and can’t do that, I’m genuinely sorry for you. Because I can’t imagine my life without my best friend/ ex boyfriend. Oh and we already established that we’re getting married because no one will ever be able to date us and handle our friendship, so that’s pretty cool too.

[ijustneedabreakfrommainaccount]

[ijustneedabreakfrommainaccount]

I don’t wanna wake up tomorrow.

[ijustneedabreakfrommainaccount]

[ijustneedabreakfrommainaccount]

I don’t want to contribute or participate in society. I don’t even want to be alive. I don’t want a job. I don’t having any dreams or ambitions. I have the world at my finger tips yet I don’t want anything to do with it. I’m over flowing with anger, hate, and envy. I don’t know how to deal with life anymore. If God really loves me as much as he claims to, then he would end my suffering.

[ijustneedabreakfrommainaccount]

“Every time I get a glimpse of a better life, I always end up on the floor crying my eyes out”

-Take me out of this world

[ijustneedabreakfrommainaccount]

my depression comes in waves. that’s how it’s always been and i’m so damn used to it by now. but the one thing that i’m not used to is the way everybody thinks that i’m better, over it and fine just because my lil depression ocean™️ is calm for now. i just want to scream. because no, i’m not better and i’m not over it and i’m not fucking fine. even when i eat properly, have a good sleeping schedule, follow my routines and smile everything sucks. everything sucks all the fucking time. the only difference is that when i do all these “good” things, the sucky shit is just easier to get through. that’s why i can eat, sleep, do what i should and smile. but i still want to die, i still want to cut my wrists, i still hate myself, i still want to loose weight, i still love the feeling you get from starving, i still get flashbacks and i still walking through hardwork stores just to look at sharp objects and think about how they would feel against my skin. i’m never fucking better, i’m never fucking over it and i’m never fucking fine. this shit is in my head all the fucking time, so please stop assuming that it isn’t because every time you think that i loose a little bit more of my hopes and courage that i actually still have when i think about recovery. so the outcome of this, if everybody keeps assuming this shit, is that i’m never going to be able so get help and recover. because i won’t have the courage and i won’t feel sick enough and i won’t feel worthy.

and i’m guessing i’m not the only one that’s going through this, so see this as a message to everyone that have somebody close who suffer from any mental illness. this shit must come to an end, and we can’t to it completely by ourselves. because if we could, we would all be better, over it and fine by now. trust me.

[ijustneedabreakfrommainaccount]

i feel lonely, I hate myself and I feel the need to cut myself again

[ijustneedabreakfrommainaccount]

So today my brother was talking to my mom about him probably needing pills to sleep, he was planning on going to see the doctor for that and I just can’t stop thinking how much I want him to get those pills just so I can steal a good amount that I can mix with the clonazepam I managed to hide after mydoctor stopped my meddication, and maybe finally I could succeed at killing myself. The amount ofpills I have atm just won’t be enough by themselves

[ijustneedabreakfrommainaccount]

I feel so broken and unloved and worthless and disgusting and annoying and unlovable and sad and depressed and suicidal and just so so fucking alone.