I don't usually post stuff like this or express my feelings online, but maybe it'll help?   


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**Intoxicated - 11:15pm**

I don’t even know why I do this anymore, because I only tend to do it when I am overly emotional. I don’t do this when I am happy or filled with love, as if I am only obsessed with my negative emotions. I hate only being fixated on my sadness and/or anger. Maybe subconsciously I actually enjoy it when I am angry or when someone (or myself) hurts, but I am not sure. Maybe because I am simply more used to a negative/unhealthy household? It hurts every molecule of my body when I am enraged, its not just an emotional or mental pain, but quite literally a physical one. My chest feels like its being crushed, breathing feels harder but I have to usually keep my composure and act as if I am alright, or just upset, like a neurotypical, where they feel it mentally, but not exactly physically. But I cant exactly express how I really feel, because I am usually around people and if I actually do act out on how I exactly feel, I’d probably look like an absolute psycho/lunatic (I mean, we are, somehow, right? Lol but the general population doesn’t have to know that). I believe I am pretty self aware and know what my triggers are - usually romantic relationships and/or family (but I’ve moved to a different continent to avoid that) and I did so well for 6 months! And oddly, I thought this would be different. After a decent pause, maybe I’d be able to control my emotions better, maybe I’ve healed a little bit because I didn’t feed into my impulse of loving so deeply and being loved. I tried to focus on my studies, mental health and friends, but yet again, I am back at square 1 once again. I feel so lost and so alone (mentally, at least, have to be fair), because trying to express my feelings and thoughts feels pointless, because most people wont even be able to comprehend all the odd, incomprehensible thoughts I have. I don’t blame them, and I usually don’t expect them to understand it, but bottling it up so much while trying to stay ‘sane’, keep up with classes, have a social life and try to balance a relationship is so fucking hard. I try my best not to make my illness my identity. I constantly remind myself I am more than what’s I am diagnosed with, but unfortunately it is my reality. My personality, my hyperness, randomness and impulsiveness, the parts that people love about me(the parts the majority of people in my life see) is a result of my illness. I keep pushing it aside and saying that the BPD is just my sadness, anger and occasional drug/alcohol abuse, but no. The happy, loving Liz, the Liz that tries to help to empathize as much as possible despite it feeling so fucking hard sometimes, the Liz that jumps around and acts like the karate kid, the Liz that love surpasses a neurotypicals possibility of showing love, the Liz that will try to accept every flaw and understand you despite the crulest, most self-centered thoughts is BPD as well. I feel like I am rambling without not really getting to a point.. but whatever. Im not suicidal and haven’t self-harmed in some time, and I know many other borderliners have it harder, but this shit is so fucking hard. Why do people love the one part so much, but completely disregard the other, real part of me? As if I am only judged based on my negatives, but not my positives. People love the positives, but rarely try to accept the negatives, especially when I try my fucking hardest to barely show it, because why break other peoples mood because you(me,us) were traumatised and/or sexually abused and/or neglected as a child? Its not their responsibility. They don’t need to save us, but how else are we supposed to express and fix the physical and mental illness we experience? By seeing a therapist once a week, usually when we aren’t triggered and have forgotten when and why we had an episode? And just say, “oh ya, im ok.” ???? As said, I hate self-pitying, but this illness is a curse on earth. Its hurts, no matter how hard you try to find better coping skills. No matter how hard you try to push aside your unreasonable feelings/thoughts aside.. it feels like eternal punishment, no matter how hard you try to fix the illness you were unfortunately indoctrinated with, simply by being conceived by equally (or even more) disturbed people (our parents). It hurts when I look at photos of myself as a kid, how innocent I was, how capable I could be, simply just to be given such an illness that fucks up every possible part of your life. I just felt like expressing myself to a group that \*could\* possibly understand me. Idk if this even makes sense, since I am under the influence of alcohol (just enough to be real, no worries) and this feels releasing.