how do you think it fucking feels?

BPD feels like not belonging inside of your own being, as though your body does not exist. And remembering that this body you are inhabiting is YOU, & that it is somehow connected to you & the actions that you put it through as well as the reactions impulsively engaged in could only be defined as quite fucking beyond the epitome of a maelstrom. 

This type of experience is something that develops as a part of arrested development, occuring during a childs core fundamental years. For the overall population that inhabit this earth those facts I fail to connect with are preconceived beliefs of ones personhood, it’s how you guarantee the child grows & lives a life of functional normalcy. Being Borderline is a guarantee of a lifetime war you will experience for, haha.. a lifetime. Think I’m kidding? Chronic means for the entirety of your fucking days.

How do you survive when your own mind is determined to slaughter you?

Bpd feels like sometimes immense pain is the only way to make you FEEL like you exist again. Specifically I do not mean only mental anguish, no – that is something that is felt on such a deep level, you have to shut it down simply to remain somewhat functional. I mean physiological pain, bodily sensations which link to physical pain feel like the connection to the reality of existence. To be apart of the equilibrium means you have to bleed out the chronic filth that litters your veins & creates trash out of your neural pathways.
Without that release you fear & you fade as you almost entirely disappear amongst the fragments of your psyche & the dissociative coping mechanisms that once ensured survival.

Borderline feels like your mentality is riddled with an autoimmune deficiency, while your emotions become mutations of the virus. BPD feels like you can’t quite get a grip on functioning normally because there’s no way to grasp what normality should be & instead it just slips through your fingertips – exactly as you assumed it would.

This trauma induced disorder tricks & deceives you, in a multitude of ways, one of which is its ability to separate everything & everyone, also the way it makes out as though other people cease to exist once they are gone from your side. As soon as they walk out the door, or hell even just go to bed in another room, it feels like they don’t exist anymore. You near forget that they did at all! Of course somewhere in that rational mind you know they must surely still exist, but you cannot feel them or feel anything towards them. As generic a statement it is to make but it is exactly like a light switch being abruptly shut off, every feeling you have, every feeling they give you, disappears as soon as they do. As if every essence of their being is gone until you see them again. And when its that one person, the one that is the center of your world at that moment, well that intensifies the pain of the perceived rejection/abandonment, to the point that you wish to & will try to kill yourself. You never exactly want death though, just a few moments outside of this fucking life.

Borderline living feels like lonely because it is lonely. You cannot feel those who love you, you definitely can’t feel their love towards you. It is an utter struggle to perceive the love they have for you. Absolutely dumbfounds me alot of the time to accept that I am cared for. After they are gone, its like they don’t love you anymore. After all, if they are gone, how can their love remain? Loneliness is so central, so inside the core, it feels as though you practically are the only person who exists in the world, & yet that existence is so fragile, so unreal, that the loneliness consumes you, & soon it feels as if the whole world has gone. And without others, your own existence fades, hence herein comes the physical pain, as said before, physical pain can become the only tie you have to your surroundings.

It feels like dark… dark dark dark. Like all the light in the world has somehow evaporated. All the energy & all the hope, just gone, drained out of your nervous system. Now & then, there is nothing but intense light – LIGHT, which your eyes have become so unaccustomed to perceiving that you are left crippled by it’s strength. Light becomes nothing to you, but blinding. Happy is just as strong an emotion as sad, only more hyperactive, erratic & loud. The sadness beats deeper than my pulse & the rage, the rage distorts your physical features, all you see or seem is heavy darkness, no shadows or shade. Pitch fucking black. It feels like desperately attempting to control all that is out of control. To contain the uncertainty. And this violent, venomous hatred – Anger, rage, at NOTHING sometimes. At absolutely nothing & there is nearly no hope in withholding the projection of any of that anger, not that you even want to anyway.

It feels like death, like death of your soul, death of your mind. Trapped within the death-womb. And you are exceptionally aware of your own mortality. Death becomes a seemingly blissful departure. An exciting event upon the horizon. Death becomes your obsession. On your happiest day, you’ll walk by a window wondering what would happen if you took that leap, what would happen if you fell head first into the pavement below? What would happen if you could not see the veins in your wrists, the knife in the drawer without daydreaming of filling a bathtub with water & colouring it blood red?

It feels like black and white, & no chance of grey in between. And that goes for everything, everyone, every place good or bad. Each moment the black & white is subject to change. Good self, bad self, loving affection splits to repulsion & hatred then back again to that naive need to love & be loved. After years you develop quite well adapted skills including the ability to keep the good & the bad completely separate. You can love someone you hate, & hate someone you love only never at the same time. You either idolise/love them, or hate/despise them, this is also constantly subject to changes that will occur within an instant. Borderlines can love someone abusive & accept it. Borderlines can maintain relationships whilst remaining if not UTTERLY emotionally detached then partially, in varying degrees.

My day to day life is this tumultuous battle against my very self. And regardless of however poetically I could ever piece this together, even if I were clinical or more narrative it is almost a total waste, a dead end because nobody, none at all, who will ever be around you knows the war you fight within your being, the blood sweat & tears as well as the fucking tooth, bone & flesh that has been & continues to be ravaged by yourfuckingself could only ever be accounted for by yourself. 

You know there is more bleeding to come. You have to let the filth out of your veins somehow. 

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