For the past year, my mental health has been getting worse and worse as the months went by. I've never really spoken about how I feel to my friends or family. Even now, my family knows about my bpd but I don't share with them just how bad it is. 

I feel like I'm just moving forward in time, like I'm existing for others rather than myself. I dip in and out of depression, but when I'm not depressed, I'm empty. The only emotions I've been feeling for the last few months is anger, sadness and emptiness (although tbf that doesn't really count as an emotion). 

I feel so broken. I've been going to counselling which didn't help and now going through a private psychotherapist that I realistically can't afford long-term. What's the end goal? I'm always going to be stuck with this illness. An illness that was brought on by other people and now I feel crippled by the repercussions of it.

I've been trying so damn hard to be better, to manage my intense emotions but people only see the bad. I could be emotionally sensible 97% of the time, and yet people will only pay attention to the 3% and it freaking sucks. 

What am I trying so hard for? At the end of the day, I'll only ever be seen as damaged goods. But hey, I have to keep going.