I can’t remember the last time I took my meds. It’s been easily 4-6 months. I’ve stopped going to therapy. I don’t know what I was thinking. 

And yet I know exactly what I was thinking. I was in a good place, happy, healthy. Then I got this stupid notion that I was better. That I didn’t need the meds or therapy. After a grueling year of work, I was better and could just go live my life. 

Now I’m laying in bed, staring up into the ceiling waiting for sleep to come. It won’t but hey, dare to dream right? 

Sorry that was unnecessarily snarky. 

I just don’t know what to do with the new issues my BPD has presented me with. Or the horrible solutions it’s suggesting I use to fix them. 

I don’t even know how much me wants to get better. This is all so familiar that it just seems normal to stay here in this fucked up place mentally. 

Mostly though, I just feel numb. 