I have quiet/hidden/high functioning bpd. on the outside, everything looks nice and swell and i get along with people really well. but on the inside, it’s a mess. and sometimes if i become close enough to people, i let them see some of the inside. and it’s not pretty.

but because they love me and they’re amazing people, they stick around and try to help and want to help because they don’t understand that when i’m lashing out at myself or engaging in self-destructive behavior, there’s very little they can do to help. because any change regarding that has to come from the inside. and that can be painful. to see someone you care about suffering and not being able to do anything about it.

i’ve gotten everything from “it hurts to care about you” to “it feels like i can’t be close to you without enabling your negative thoughts” to “your mental instability makes it hard to be around because it affects my own”. and it’s gotten to the point where i’m actually kind of proud of them for taking a stand and making a decision that’s for their own well-being.

a good friend will stick around if you get ill. but i can’t expect someone to say around if i **AM** the illness. as much as it eats me up inside, i can understand it. 

it’s not fun hearing “i want to kill myself” every night from someone you care about. it’s not easy to constantly hear things like “i got drunk and woke up in a strangers bed today” or “i failed my exam on purpose to motivate myself to drop out and/or kill myself”. it’s tiring to not hear from me for days or weeks at a time because i feel like i don’t deserve their friendship but i don’t communicate that because i don’t want to be a burden.

I still have friends here and there but no longer have any i can talk to about my feelings. and even if i could, i wouldn’t. because it’s been proven to me that it’s more than someone should be expected to handle.

im okay with just having friends who wanna go out for drinks every once in a while. i’m okay with having friends who i only play video games with and nothing more. i just need to be distracted from how much i constantly want to die, but no one needs to know about that, because as soon as that can of worms is opened up, i know i can’t close it and people won’t like what’s inside it