I had a great group of friends back in September. They were my roommates and I didn’t hesitate to call them family. Then my BPD went crazy and I ended up in the hospital. After that they completely cut me off as a person. 

I still live with them and hear them everyday. I have to stick it out with them until the current semester is over. I hate knowing that every time I walk through the door they are pissed I’m back again. Once in a while I’ll hear them say “oh is *blank or *blank home”. Never my name since they don’t acknowledge me as a person anymore. 

I’m just so sick of hurting others I have decided to stop trying to make new friendships. I can’t hurt anyone but myself if I stay in my room alone. Sure it’s a sad life, but no matter what I did anyways I would still feel that emptiness. 

I have to sleep every night knowing I hurt so many people in my life. By being too attached and then screaming at them when they do something that slightly upsets me. I carry around a weight with me as if everyone I’ve known has died. Because they might as well have.  Knowing I’m dead to them. 

My roommates, the people I once loved so much. Won’t look at me. I hate the feeling of shame and guilt everyday. 