I refuse to live like this. I won’t. If God really didn’t want me to commit suicide...why would he push me beyond what I can take? 

Everything in my life keeps falling apart. My health (physical and mental), my looks, my relationships. I’m in constant discomfort from a dental problem that no one seems to know how to fix. My skin is acne ridden and I have some kind of pigmentation problem. I’m so itchy all the time but I’m too afraid to even find out what that’s from.

When my hair started falling out three years ago I accepted it and tried to move on. When my acne was at its worst I went on accutane which cleared it up for a little while, only for it to come back again. Being on that drug also worsened my hair loss, but I never complained. When I started developing endometriosis symptoms like my mothers, I adapted and tried to move on. When I’m in bed with a sickle cell crisis with enflamed joints unable to do anything for myself, I never complain. Even in the darkest moments of my BPD that is most definitely the result of infinite childhood trauma, I never think “why me?”. 

But I can only take so much. I’m only one person. And there doesn’t seem to be an end in sight anymore. There is no rescue mission.