I did not, and still am not, coping well. Sometimes I think I'm getting over it but I'm actually just momentarily enjoying something else until I'm eventually left to remember and relive it again. The worst part is the stigma I feel that I'm not over it. Everyone else is. Everyone else forgave her and they're all buddies again now. I'm the only one who never completely moved on. I feel like I have to physically refrain from sending her or them an email bluntly telling them how much they've completely fucked me over and how full of shit I think they are, but I've already sent the occasional stupid and downright uncool emails over the months. I stopped getting replies some months ago even when I made a suicidal remark, naturally. Part of me knows this is because I was emotionally manipulating them but another part is still gutted by this regardless. Their silence and indifference and acting like I never existed is bone chilling after everything we went through. But I feel like the best thing to do is to give them absolutely no attention at all, because it's better late than never to go from the uncool crazy ex friend nutjob to the self-improved, dignified young woman, right? Lol.
Once upon a time I was just an abused, sweet, intelligent kid who had potential to be something amazing and was tortured into being an asshole, and that asshole is now an emotionally stunted 20 year old with a reputation for being weird and depressed as fuck that I want nothing more than to change. I'm so fucking sick of the pity, and the misunderstandings, and the betrayals among the other attitudes towards me I hate. I'm trying so hard to improve my behaviour but I don't even know what or how I'm supposed to be. And for who? A bunch of two-faced assholes who wasted my time and care? UGHHHHHH. Like, don't get me wrong, some real improvements are happening in my life and I feel like I have my own ground to stand on- as shaky as it is- which is fairly new for me. But like. I think a specific form of torture for someone with BPD is watching those you were the closest to choose someone who made your life miserable over you. That's a fucking death sentence for some of us. And the worst part is it's entirely our responsibility to take care of it and I feel like a lot of us have to do it alone due to people not really understanding how or why we're so emotional, obsessive and paranoid. 

My brain is a fucking mess. This isn't even half of my worries. Last night I was semi-convinced I have Toxic Shock Syndrome and it's obviously pretty fucking likely I don't. I'm actually losing my cool. I'm also scared one of these ex friends might have seen this sub and knows this account is me but then again I wanna be able to say what I want SOMEWHERE and I'd rather take potential backlash from strangers than people I love, lol.

Yay life