Welp… I brought my laptop back out again.
I’m not sure what else to do on nights like this. Netflix isn’t helping, music is making it worse, and somehow food isn’t even appealing. Thus… I sit here typing in my kitchen while making sure my cats don’t steal my food cooling on the counter. Although my back is turned so…
Anyways… well I still have Borderline Personality. Surprise. How’s it been going you ask?
Not that great.
Over the last month I’ve been slowly drowning in a metaphorical pool of mental health bullshit. I’m not even sure what triggered it this time which is the worst part because I can’t fix an unknown problem. I mean I did have a good friend of mine pass away a month ago, but I feel like I’m at peace with it. My grandma isn’t doing the world’s greatest right now either, but there’s no immediate concern. I’m probably the healthiest I’ve ever been. I have great friends. Nothing crazy has happened at work… yet here I am… nauseated and tearing up every five minutes with this intense feeling of impending doom. It feels like something awful is about to happen… but I have no idea what…. so I begin questioning my entire reality and replaying every single thing I’ve done wrong in the past decade. I feel extremely paranoid and restless and my head is so loud that it’s getting to the point where I can’t sleep (so now I understand why people with insomnia are usually grump asses). Also… don’t suggest that I take melatonin… I’m now immune. The only thing allowing me to rest and relax is marijuana and Tiktok. Seriously… I know. I know…
I assume I need a medication change because well hey… my head’s fucked up and sometimes I just need an adjustment. The issue with that is I can’t see a provider until the end of August and let me tell ya… four weeks is a long fucking time for someone that’s walking on the edge of collapse.
I don’t need a psychiatrist. I don’t need to talk about my feelings. I have the workbooks, the techniques, the breathing… blah blah blah. And so help me God… if I have to repeat my entire life story to someone ever again… I will metaphorically jump off a metaphorical tall building without a parachute (metaphorically). I have a chemical imbalance in my head that no amount of redundant therapies can fix. #BPD
On a positive note, I’m too self aware for my BPD to destroy me and I have the best fucking support system that I could ever ask for. Honestly, my friends, family, and this WP community has done more for me than any amount of therapy or books ever has. I just have to wait patiently, not push everyone away, and take care of myself until I have my appointment.
So don’t’ worry… I’ll be okay. I’m always okay.
Thanks for reading if you made it this far. 🙂
-Hal
AO Poetry 