
Her 2


My anxiety is a snake slowly constricting the conflicted parts of my brain, increasing the tension on my subconscious worries and pains. It invites in my insecurities to intrusively choke me with doubts, but instead of expelling air it's belligerencies escaping from my mouth.
I didn't think it would happen so soon, I swear I was just still using a Zune. I look back and see all the trauma and flaws, But also the triumphs that deserve an applause. There's memories I love and some that I hate, Yet all of them now I know were my fate. The years have gone fast but still seemingly slow, To end that rough chapter I needed to outgrow. So now here I am the day is arriving, To be thirty, still flirty, and continually thriving.
My pain has always been prettier on paper... The way my tears land and make the ink bleed through the faded blue lines... The way my frustration smears the page into blurs of illegible letters and marbled designs... The way my notebook's corners are curled during the hours of countless sighs... And the way my fingers twist my misery... So that it's prettier than what's inside.
I know changes are inevitable, but to me they’re a death sentence.
If I haven’t already stated this to you all… I have Borderline Personality Disorder and it involves issues revolving around abandonment. So when I know changes in my life will happen, I experience an overwhelming amount of dread and anxiety… especially when losing someone is a possibility.
To me the idea of losing someone feels like my entire world is being wiped away. I feel like I don’t know how to function knowing they’ll be gone and that there’s no point in living without them in my life. It’s basically like an appendage has been forcibly removed from me and I’ve been told to just move on… like a metaphorical amputation. 😉
Now I’ve done the homework, the therapy, all the bullshit… and no matter what I tell myself… I struggle. I fucking struggle over and over and over… And now I’m here. Struggling once more.
I know (I fucking know) I need to worry less about being abandoned and focus more on trusting people to stay in my life… but pushing past the intrusive thoughts is seemingly impossible.
I guess what I really need to figure out is how to trust people to stay with me… Even though I feel underserved of that privilege…
I’ll take whatever advice/wisdom you all offer.
-Hal
Like unwanted party guests the thoughts arrive, casually striding in together to fuck with my mind. They're compulsive, intrusive, and highly erratic, depressive, manipulative, and obscenely manic. They've had no invite or welcoming at all, yet they play in my head like a reckless free-for-all. They'll take what they can until they've had enough, while I watch from the corner sitting silently in disgust. For I can't get them out or exonerate their presence, so patiently I just wait for their eventual evanescence.
Helpless, she lays awake in the dangers of darkness with a lonely mind trying to rebel. Hopeless, she forces sleep upon herself to prevent the outcome that she knows all too well.
Green irises remain fixated in a state of obscene envy. Glassy and glaring, they stare motionless and resentful. Absorbing the coveted details they'll never see when they look at themselves.
We're here, you and me, two miniscule anomalies. Created through chance and brought together by luck.
What happens when you’ve found yourself stuck in some kind of limbo of satisfaction with who you are?
I’ve repeatedly found myself torn between completely loving or hating myself. There is rarely an in-between for me. There are moments when I’m so proud of the work I’ve done, where I’ve gotten, and who I’ve become. In those moments I truly and wholeheartedly love myself… But those feelings don’t tend to last very long.
It’s like my brain flips a depression switch and I’m back to hating myself. I feel like I’m not enough, I’m not worth it, I shouldn’t be here, my existence is pointless… Blah blah blah. I’m left feeling 102% unsatisfied and disappointed in where I still am and who I think i should be. Touché to mental sabotage…
I just don’t know what to do to fix this anymore. The only thing I feel like I can do at this point is let it happen, ride it out, and hope the self-love lasts longer than the hate.
Time heals… I get that. Personal effort and growth is key… Yeah sure. But will time and effort really be able to invoke complete love for myself? Or do all of us just learn to tolerate and cope with ourselves enough to survive?
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