the door is open, just have to walk through it

i can see your effort, and im trying too. but your effort is the ying to my yang and we cant seem to get it right. its hard to think its not my fault. when you step forward, i step back.

why am i so afraid of being vulnerable? why am i so afraid of getting it right? of having things work out? of maybe being happy.

why am i so addicted to sabotaging everything?
to self loathing?
to rejecting happiness?

maybe i don't deserve it, maybe i don't think i do. maybe its because every time I've let you in you've destroyed me
tidal waved me
discarded me like a flower you picked and no longer have use for
the moment you picked me, i started to die
withering in your hands like melted butter

sometimes i feel like im not the only one too afraid to make this work, to be happy

youre addicted to the self hate as much as i am, like a needle in our veins enveloping us and we destroy each other

sometimes i wonder what my life would be without you

would it be better?

or just a different train wreck with someone who could never understand me as much as you do. with someone who couldn't love the monster ive become. the monster i always have been.

im sick and i know its not my fault, but its hard not to think it is. that im weak. that what broke me would be shrugged off by anyone else. by everyone else.

but it broke me.

and im shattered pieces of glass, thrown violently, covering the floor.
surrounded by people that who would cut themselves on all that i am

and everything i could never be.

 

reminder

When I was younger I had this feeling

that there was this handbook that I had never gotten 

that explained how to be, 

how to laugh, 

what to wear, 

how to stand by yourself in the hallway. 

Everyone else looked so natural, 

like they’d all practiced together and knew exactly what to do, 

even just the way that they pushed the hair out of their face. 

My experience was pretty much the opposite.

I was conscious of how I sat,

how I smiled,

and when I was alone with another person

I had no idea what to do or what to say.

I could just feel myself panic, it sucked.

I’d imagine what people were like when I wasnt around.

How they’d compare notes on how I didn’t quite fit.

Or even worse, they just wouldn’t notice.

So, I tried to pick up the patterns.

I wore what they wore and said what they said,

I even wrote ‘smile more!’ on a sticky note.

And over time it sort of worked,

in a way, I made a version of me that ‘fit in’,

whatever that means.

But as I grew older the patterns kept changing,

and it took so much effort to keep learning them.

And I was still stuck with the problem that I had started with,

being terrified of the moment when my tricks stopped working.

I think it took me too long to learn something.

That even though there is a thing called ‘fitting in’,

that it’s something that you can learn and practice,

those pages are so thin compared to who you are.

That the way to become ‘natural’, like I wanted to be so badly, is by forgetting what you’re trying to be to other people.

And, if there is a handbook,

you probably get to write it yourself.

urge surfing

Merry Christmas.

I'm really sorry how crazy I've been over the years. I've finally got a diagnosis after 12 months in and out of mental health hospitals after my 8th and most serious suicide attempt.

I have borderline personality disorder, rejection sensitivity disorder and complex post traumatic stress disorder and I realise that you've been the center of my limerance for the last 18 years. Which has been a really unhealthy and toxic endeavour for me and when you mix that with whatever it is that you have going on I guess it's a combination that triggers me. and it's almost a total lack of free will that makes me react that way, my brain physiologically couldn't process any perceived rejection from you. This is not you're fault, but entirely my issue. Unfortunately with BPD it is medication resistant so all I can do is ongoing therapy, and while I cannot control my condition, I can control my behaviour and that's something I've really been working on. 

I don't know why I feel the need to tell you any of this, maybe I'm hoping it will break the limerance I have with you which is completely irrelevant, irrational and harmful to my well-being and every relationship I've ever had in my adult life. And I don't want that anymore. I not want to run away from all the good things in my life out of fears of being abandoned. Thank you for being my friend, however loosely that term can be used for us. You were always there in my darkest times, whether you knew it or not, as someone I could feel safe with. But I now understand that none of it was real and that I'm just a foot note in your story. And I truly am ashamed of the way I've treated you, it was just as confusing for me and it probably was for you. 

Anyway, I've taken enough of your time reading this, I don't want to steal anymore of it.

I hope you had a great Christmas, at your core you're a really good guy, and I hope you have a great 2025. 

limerance

Lost in the labyrinth of limerence, I dance amidst dreams spun from the tapestry of your existence.

Time waits for no man.

Neither does a good woman.

voices in my head

Sometimes I feel like I'm getting worse again. Worse and better at the same time. Worst in the sense I want to die. Maybe more than ever. But better in the way that I'm better at faking it. I'm better at pretending I don't want to die. Proving the DBT torture was effective. Fake a smile, be ok with the things you shouldn't, comply, don't make anyone else feel any type of way, smile more, be pleasant, give up all morals and values and conform, after all, your suffering is your fault.

The dark place where dreams go to die.

i have this hole in my heart i try to fill it with things and nothing seems to satistify it i throw peole in i liife into it pills alcohol my kids nothing seems to fill it. i used it think it didnt get full because it was wrong for me or because it wasnt enough. i used to believe you were the only thing that could fill it. only you. but im beggining to realise that its not a hole in my heart but a bottomless pit and i throw the things i love most into it. and for a while they hang onto the edges, making me feel...something. but they lose grip eventually and they fall another victim of the darkness inside of me you could never fill that hole no one can nothing can only i can or at the very least, i need to learn to live with it. stop using it as a burial ground for the things i love the most.