what am I supposed to keep my shit together for? I don't have any close friends who aren't unhealthy to have. it doesn't matter if my fp is loving and patient because in my mind that love and patience is only feigned, can't *be* anything but feigned. I'm supposed to live for myself? are you fucking kidding me? I don't want to kill myself but I do want to tell everyone I know that I will, to put in them the fear it'll happen, that it'll be their fault. and *I don't know why I want to do that*. attention? I think I'm just evil. maybe doing so will confirm I'm evil. but I don't want to be evil, which means I should kill myself, so I don't do evil things. this shit is contradiction on contradiction on contradiction. I can't keep my shit together, I don't have any reason to. I need love from people and not just hollow internet love like "I don't know you but I care and hope you don't hurt yourself." like, come on, has that ever made anyone feel any better? probably. I'm too far gone for it to help me? my therapist doesn't believe me when I say I have bpd because I'm so goddamn good at looking like I don't and what am I supposed to do? call him up at 2 a.m. and threaten to hang myself? I don't want to do that, but I also *totally want to do that,* which is exactly why I really *should* hang myself. contradiction on contradiction on contradiction. I want to fucking destroy myself. it's all I've ever wanted. to die in some hella poetic way so that everyone can see how much *pain* I was in and be like "goddamn I wish I knew how much pain he was in so I could have helped him," but know in my heart they never could have helped because I never wanted help because *why* would I want help? all I've ever wanted is to destroy myself. but that's *such a goddamn lie* because I want to *do* things like love people and write bad poetry and get better at math and be loved and love people and have I mentioned I want people to love me? but nobody will love me if I'm evil and my poetry is bad and I'm not good at math and all of those things are true because contradictions on contradictions on contradictions -- heel to the motherfucking dialectic -- and please god what the fuck do I do now