BPD BADDIE

Hey, baddies! Today, I'm talking about love, infatuation, and limerence. Let's start by defining each of these words. What is love? That's a TWICE song. Seriously, though. Google defines love as an intense feeling of deep affection. Love can mean many things to many people. There are several types of love, as well. The ancient Greeks had 8 types of love:  Eros (sexual passion) Philia (deep friendship) Ludus (playful love) Agape (love for everyone) Pragma (longstanding love) Philautia (love of the self) Storge (family love) Mania (obsessive love) They felt as though the word love was overused and used loosely, so they had 8 words for love, one for each type. I honestly agree with this. People use the word love so loosely that we will use the same word to describe our liking for food and to describe our affection, dedication, and adoration for a soulmate.  What is infatuation? Infatuation is intense (but short-lived) obsession and admiration. Some people confuse infatuation f...

Sometimes I look in the mirror and just stare at myself. I overanalyze every part of me. I always overanalyze everything. I think too much, and I know my thoughts and attention to detail will eventually lead to my demise. I don't know how that will happen, but I'm sure of it. My attention to detail has always bothered me. Because of it, the most mundane, unnoticeable things drive me insane. I can't go one second without having a plethora of thoughts flooding my head. It feels like a shipwreck in my mind, and the only way out is to swim to the surface, except I have no limbs. Yes. That's how I feel. Limbless and helpless. I sometimes forget just how severe the trauma I endured was. I practically got raped by my own father, I've attempted to kill myself and take my life over ten times, and more. I have a whole personality disorder because of said trauma. I've been told to not let my trauma and/or disorder define me, but that's hard to do when the trauma has sh...

  I feel weirdddd. Better than yesterday, but still weird. Yesterday, I felt very strange. I knew I wasn't okay. I was on the verge of a manic episode. I don't talk often about mania. Typically, people with BPD only experience euphoria and not mania. But I have that symptom, and it is a hell to live in. Many things happen before, during, and after a manic episode. However, I am not here to educate you on that. I will, just not this time. I felt tipsy and happy and scared and uncomfortable all at once. I had a strong urge to take drugs, and I had a strong urge to take random medications until I felt something. I had no idea why I suddenly experienced what I experienced, but I did. A part of me misses that feeling, but I know it's best that I'm not experiencing it right now.  I'm starting to feel like yesterday again. Does anyone even care? It feels like no one gives a shit about me. I feel like I don't matter. Ugh. Am I really that unlikable of a person? It feels...

Hellooo baddies! Today I have an extreme craving for drugs. I am craving the feeling of being knocked out and unaware of the world around me. I want to feel my lungs begging for me to stop as I exhale. What the actual fuck is wrong with me, y'all? Do y'all even read this shit? Or am I doing this for no reason? I really need a cigarette right now. Like I will actually go insane if I don't get one right now. Ugh. I'm tired. I don't feel good right now. I want to sink. To drown. 

  Hey, baddies! Today, I completed 100 days without any form of self-harm. I am very proud of myself, I must say. A long time ago, I used to think I wasn't made for living. Someone like me could never handle life. I could never keep on living, and if I did, it would be a dreary, depressing life. I was cutting myself on the daily, hoping I would feel something, anything. Cutting was my safe space. The blade never judged me. I could enjoy the feeling of slicing my skin and how the blood formed droplets along the cut. Of course, I was in a terrible mental state. I wouldn't enjoy hurting myself now, or at least I would hope that'd be the case. Now, I feel safe in other things that don't harm me, like my hobbies or the people I love. I no longer have the desire to injure myself or scar my skin. Sometimes, I get the urge to do so, but I am able to overcome it. Now, I can live a somewhat normal life. Sure, I still have BPD. Sure, I see my therapists more than my own family. An...

Hey baddies! Long time no seeeee. Today I feel like ranting. I already know that this post is about to be hectic, so prepare. Lately, I've been incredibly happy. I'm slightly worried this might be a temporary state of euphoria, but I don't think it is. It's like a soft happiness. A happy state where I can just dwell in peace, harmony, and joy. Isn't that so wonderful? N ow onto a less wonderful topic: me being SAd. It drives me crazy that I was so young, and I was able to survive it and the trauma. I don't know why I decided to rant about that right now, but I just felt like it, and you know what? This is my blog; I can do whatever the hell I want with it. So let's talk about me being sexually abused/assaulted. I feel like I ignore this part of me sometimes and treat it as though it never really happened. I'll be frank, sometimes it feels like it didn't and like I'm making it all up. But then I get the flashbacks. They're so vivid, so real, s...

I'm  finally back. I don't know how long I'll be back until I fall into another depressive slump/state/episode. But I'm here at the moment, and that's what matters. I'm still stuck in another country. Very fun, I know. I miss my life. But I know being here is for the best. I really needed the therapy, medications, and treatment I'm getting. I don't think I would've still been here if this didn't happen. It still drives me insane that I can't see the love of my life. It's been months. It physically hurts me. But I'm stuck. I have no choice. But whatever. I shouldn't worry because it's not like I can do anything about it. I was experiencing euphoria earlier today, but it's starting to dull down. Maybe I can salvage it. At the very least, I got the energy to finally post something on the blog. Maybe life isn't so awful.  Edit: This was written on the 11th. I am much better now, though most of this still applies. Anyway, s...