I feel like the people who recover from personality disorders and trauma are just dumb. Maybe smart enough to be aware of themselves but also not too smart. I feel like I hear so many people being like "I found this thing and it really helped me!" and that's it. Like, that's all it took. I wish I was dumb so I could believe that things are helping me.

The truth is, I know things are not helping me. I know that just looking at soothing photos or listening to pleasant music isn't going to make me the person I want to be. I know that thinking positively or journaling isn't going to give me my life back that I lost because I didn't know I had BPD. I am not so dumb that I believe there's a God that has my back. I am not so dumb to believe the world is actually safe. I can see further than the end of my own nose and I know this life is just going to end with my body falling apart and becoming old and disgusting while  young people of the world find me increasingly annoying and irrelevant and then all my friends and loved ones will die one by one until it's my turn. That's it. There's nothing to feel hopeful about. You put in all this work, but nobody gets off this planet alive. Nobody gets out of here peacefully and pleasantly unless you die in your 40s on good terms with everyone and you're the first to go.

I think a lot, and I am too smart to get better. I can keep finding evidence for why I am trash and it's really solid, good evidence. People get so angry at me because they know they can't argue with me. They get frustrated because I go back and forth with them enough times to where I finally say something they can't argue with. Their optimism can't defeat truth.