TW: sui*** thoughts, self harm, eating disorder, drugs



Need to vent.I have a lot to say. I don’t expect anyone to read this but I need to type it out and put it out there.  Don’t have anyone to vent to because everybody I love and care about is suffering because I can’t get my shit together. I need to get it out because the people I love don’t deserve to be subjected to even more bullshit. 
Why can’t I just stop behaving like this? Why does self control seem impossible? I genuinely don’t understand. I am furious with myself. 
It really is so simple. Everybody has feelings and bad thoughts - it’s what you do with them that matters. Just because mine are extreme and deep into every atom of my body doesn’t mean that I should be incapable of controlling myself. Where is this disconnect? 
I’m 26, DX - BPD, ADHD, PTSD. Anxiety something something - that’s just a main symptom. I first went to treatment when I was 19 for heroin addiction, got clean. Ended up staying in institutions for cutting, suicidal ideation/attempts and my eating disorder - Switching between bulimia and anorexia over the years. I’ve been to 15 psych wards involuntarily and 13 inpatient facilities. Eva use I kept getting kicked out, sent to the psych ward, then transferred. I last got out about 3 years ago after I crushed my gallbladder with my liver from over drinking and was able to stay out. Re-integrating with a world I never really integrated with to begin with has been laughably challenging. 

Before I went to treatment I was physically, sexually and mentally abused daily by my “boyfriend” since I was 12. I broke up with him after a year in inpatient. I am only mad that he gave me PTSD and that makes me that much more of a struggle to deal with. I never thought that I didn’t deserve it and I never will. Anyone who doesn’t hit me is a fucking saint. Like I said, the only thing I’m mad about is that he made it that much more difficult for me to love without suffering for it. 

I haven’t picked up hard drugs again. I don’t cut anymore. I do drink again, daily, but I don’t get drunk. For the first time in my life I have moved out of my parents home for about a year, have a steady job, a healthy relationship, and I even got my drivers license and a car. Somehow I am balancing all of that - barely. But I am still me. I am still fucked up. I am sabotaging my relationship. I am constantly on the absolute brink. Every moment I am focusing on the things I learned and how to be a person and do the right thing for myself and others. It is something I focus so hard on and because of that I seem like a careless, empty headed person. I move too fast, leave the fridge open, locks unlocked, knocking things over, etc. it’s like I don’t have enough brain power to do both manage my mental health and just be a person. But I’m not managing it. I don’t know what I’m doing. It’s getting to a scary point. My head is going to dark places as usual but my ability to drown out those thoughts is dwindling. 
I have extreme reactions. But that isn’t when I melt down. I melt down because I’m so mad I am reacting that way over literal spilled milk to begin with. That’s when I lose grip. The anger and frustration with the fact that I am so fucking stupid and emotional sends me over the edge every, say, 10th time. 9/10 times I simmer down. The 10th I can’t. At least I feel like I can’t. Ask anybody and it’s just me being an immature child who isn’t trying hard enough. All I have are excuses, but to me, they seem like the truth, like an explanation. It’s funny really. My first reaction would be something that would be intense and disruptive. My reaction to my reaction, that anger and shame wi to myself, ends up being what makes me a crazy idiot. I don’t know how to articulate that. 

When I have an outburst I don’t scream or break things or run away badly hurt myself anymore. That’s good. I just have like, a contained panic attack? What people see- I’m shaking, scratching and grabbing at my skin, punching myself, hyperventilating or shallow breathing, muttering, Etc. What goes on inside of me is something I can’t articulate.  At some point I dissociate heavily. I don’t cry all that much anymore. 

When this happens I GENUINELY FEEL LIKE I CANT STOP. I don’t know how to explain this to anybody!! It does not feel like any part of me is able to keep from losing my shit! And you know how I said “I only do this now, that’s good.” ITS NOT THOUGH. it’s not good enough. It’s still extreme behavior. It still hurts the people I love. Everything I overcame is pretty meaningless when the impact is still harming my loved ones. It’s not good enough. 

I don’t know how to explain that I can’t stop. That keeping that from happening is something I do all the time, constantly, and at some point I break. All it is is excuses. I don’t know. 

Work is killing me. But everyone has a hard job. 
I work about 20 hour shifts 5 days a week as a line cook. My dream is to be a chef and open a restaurant. It’s intense work but not much compared to many kitchen jobs. 10 hours of rushing, everything is in a hurry, nonstop labor, no breaks whatsoever, no food. I’m not sleeping much - 4 hours a night, 6 if I’m lucky, 0-2 occasionally. I eat one small meal most days but usually can’t finish. And it’s not in an attempt to lose weight anymore. I’m too tired, I don’t feel good. I’m in excruciating pain from work, it’s gotten to the point where I am constantly nauseous and shaking and this thing happens where it knocks the wind out of me and I can’t breathe and I’m dry heaving and I have ringing in my ears and seeing stars. It’s making me bad at my job. Unreliable, as usual. Guess what? I’m not fucking special because of any of that so why does it make it so that it’s significantly more difficult to function? It’s all making it so that my emotional shit is much more often. I can’t manage. 

I have been on antipsychotics, antidepressants, benzodiazepines, and mood stabilizers since age 11. I stopped everything this February besides my Adderall which is a newer prescription. I just got Trazodone for sleep. It helps sometimes. I thought I could do it. And I am, I mean, I haven’t lost everything or relapsed. And now I’m too stubborn to go back on because this all seems like a matter of willpower. But it doesn’t feel that way. I genuinely for the life of me don’t understand why I can’t just fucking stop. It angers me to no end. I don’t want to keep being this person. 

I am supposed to be the source of joy and comfort for my boyfriend. Not one of his biggest stressors. We have been together since January and moved in together quickly because circumstances led to that. And it’s my biggest shame, what I do to him. That he has to see that. That he feels he can’t for a second stop being the one who is stable. He can’t let his own guard down. He can’t not worry. He has to deal with this when he just wants to relax. And I can’t stop. I’m not trying hard enough. But I feel like I’m putting in every bit of effort I have. I’m obviously doing something wrong but I can’t figure it out. I can’t figure out where to put all that effort in a way to make this stop. I don’t know how he does it. He has depression and anger too, but he was able to get a hold on it and is the most stoic person I’ve ever met. It adds more shame. He’s about the same age, 28. I know he feels some type of way about the fact that he did it and I can’t, and I also feel badly about that. Terribly. He doesn’t give me a hard time. He doesn’t enable me. He’s fucking perfect and I’m going to lose him. It’s one of those things where I didn’t know what love was before I met him. And I don’t think that’s the borderline talking. Because I know what borderline “love” feels like. This isn’t it. This is the most real thing I know. 

He’s going to leave me, probably soon. I told him that if he does need to that I will still pay my half of the rent. I can live with my parents for as long as I need to. He should. He deserves better. It would break me. It would.. I don’t even want to think about it. On my list of the worst things that can possibly happen, that’s right below him or my family dying. But he deserves somebody who is mature enough to not be an emotional, uncontrolled child. 

I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. I’m at a loss. I just need to get it together and I can’t figure out how. It’s all too much, there’s too much at stake, and the anger that I can’t do it makes it significant worse.