WordVomit7

I’m scared of getting tested. I am scared of being anything different than what this made up identity has told me I am. This is the one thing that has given me closure, told me that I am something, that I am nothing. I want clarification tho. I want to be told that I am this. But what if I am not. Who will I be? What would I be? I am scared. I looked into getting a psychiatric dog. To help with the cutting. The impulsive has gotten stronger because I am wearing long sleeve shirts. I cut up my legs earlier this week. But I miss my friend the blade that did so well. I was told that these dogs help with that, that they dont make you feel as alone. I really want one. I really need something stable in my life right now. Everything is shifting. But to get one I have to have a therapist recommend me one. What if they dont understand. What if they think I am making it all up. What if my feelings arent even real. What if I dont have BPD. What if it was all in my head. An identity that I created that wasnt even real. I get so used to making new identities around new people that its hard to keep up. I keep them similar. I have become to open with the people I am with now. I still havent told them everything but I feel them drifting. Like they can feel it. I need to hold back. I need to build my walls back up. But I need this dog to help. I stress so much that I have panic attacks so much. I cant keep my anger in control I cant keep any of my emotions in control to be honest. And If i go to a therapist I have to be vulnerable to get this dog or even the chance and I cant take that. This was my new start they shouldnt know whats wrong with me. I dont want them to know my thoughts. My thoughts that tear me apart. My thoughts that would drive someone mad yet here I stand. I grew up with these thoughts. These thoughts are normal and thats sad. I have also gotten fatter and that hasnt helped. You know what I dont understand people say excercise makes you happier. I work out and do Quidditch (soccer/dodgeball.basketball mix) and I still feel hopeless. I still feel numb I still feel like cutting open my skin just to let all these intense emotions out or to break open the numbess and I dont fucking get it I dont understand it. Like how does this make sense. How. I cant even feel lust or sexual pleasure. I tried to force myself to sleep with another girl and I literally hated myself more than normal for a couple days. I felt disgusting and like I deserved to die. I just wanted it to be over and whats sad is the exact same thing happened this summer when I forced myself to sleep with a guy and I dont understand whats wrong with me. Why Do i feel this way. Why cant i do these things. Why do i feel disgusted and I wantedd to cut so bad but wasnt able to and it killed me. If I would have cut I could have gone through the day and It was so difficult. I just really hate myself. I dont understand any of my thoughts and emotions and I dont understand why I feel this way. Nothing bad has happened to me to cause this. I have felt this way since I was 10. Almost 9 years of nothing but self hatred. I was raped countless times by my ex boyfriend when I was 13/14 and I hated myself before then. I was raped the one time I got drunk. I would love to think thats why I feel this way but I have always felt this way. I have never been able to escape these emotions that I have haunted me. I live in the place where I was first hospitalized and I would love to think that I got better after that but I didnt. It just got worse. Not right after but two years later after control and coping it got out of hand. I like to think i classify for an eating disorder but the problem is im to fat to have one. I am huge. Yet I starve or binge. There is no in between. I think about throwing up too. But i dont because I dont want anyone else to know since I live in a dorm. Since I have a roomate I have to hide my pain. Thats one thing I miss about my home. I miss having my own room where I could cry for hours and let it all out and could pretend the next day feeling refreshed. But here I cant do that. So it just stays. It stays and speaks to me. Tells me how worthless I am. How much of a shitty person I am. How those blades are my only friends. How they are the only ones who stayed with me. Who comforted me. How i deserve no one and I ruin everything I touch. Thats me the girl who deserves death.

One thought on “WordVomit7”

  1. As someone who was sexually assaulted at a young age and who is currently in therapy I urge you to be vulnerable, try out a few therapists until you find one who makes you feel safe to open up. It took me 3 therapists before I found my current one who has been making real progress with me. It can get better…Sending good thoughts your way xoxo.

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