I hate myself and that’s okay. I will never get better and that’s okay. I will be alone in the end and that is okay. I had a therapist once that told me that I said everything was okay, even if it wasn’t. She told me that it wasn’t okay to hate myself and it wasn’t okay to feel the way I do. But I have grown up telling myself that it is okay to feel this way even though it tears me apart. My thoughts and emotions. My demon telling me that if I cut I will think rationally, I will start to feel better, and that it will go away. Of course, when the feeling came back I would repeat the same thing. But in reality, I hate hating people for no reason, I hate hating myself, I hate being a ticking time bomb. There was this thing on tumblr where someone said “one of the perks of being bpd is that we love things intensely and when we care about something we put our whole being into it”. I would say this is true but the downfall is worse. When someone doesn’t love us the way we love them we start to wonder what is wrong with us. Why do they not care? And at that point we start to split, well for me anyway. I hate people and want them to suffer. I want to give my all to someone but I am so scared to do it. I want someone to love me and care for me the way I do them. I want to be constantly reassured that they love me and I am their favorite person. I talked to my ex best friend. I want her back but one part of me wants to hurt her and wants to fight with her but on the inside I am screaming trying to tell her that this is the way I am. I can’t control it. That I’m sorry and I don’t like doing this to people but yet I love doing it because I am sick. I want her to tell me I understand why you did it and you mean the world to me and I could never replace you. I want to yell at her and tell her I need help. That I am sick. That I can’t function in society. But ever since this thing snapped inside of me. I hate everything. I want everything to suffer. I want people to hurt because I have so much pain inside of me that it is overwhelming. That I can never fix anything because it will always come back. Everything is so intense. Everything I touch crumbles away. I just don’t understand why I can’t do anything right. Like, why am I such a screw up? Why can’t people love me the way I love them? Why do I push everyone away? I just hate feeling this way. I hate feeling like I’m never going to get better, yet I know that that is true yet I hold on to some type of hope. I want these emotions to leave me, yet I am terrified of feeling nothing. I hate leeching off of emotions. I don’t know why I try to fix anything. I don’t know why I put a smile on my face anymore. Nobody is paying attention. No one cares how I feel. No one cares about my needs. No one cares and that okay. Part of me wants help so badly. But how when I can’t keep a therapist. When I can’t trust anybody. Because no one will understand and that’s okay.