On the Borderline - Life With BPD

I'm sick of living in this world where nobody cares about anyone else. It's all about them, always, at all times. I feel like I'm stuck in a sea of other people's shit. Nobody takes responsibility for their actions. Nobody cares if you're okay, and if they bother to ask, why do something so stupid like comforting them or offering advice? It's best to change the subject, even cut them off mid-word because hey, it probably wasn't important anyway. While we're at it, if you owe money to somebody that bothered to actually care (a deadly sin!) why pay them back for it, even though you already offered to pay them back, why go through with it? Sure, you owe them money that they NEED because they spent their own on YOU, but it's best to sneak out when they're feeling sick and aren't paying attention so you can get the money you owe them and give it to someone else. It's not like they'd mind right? That would be silly.

It's little things piling on that hurt worst. And if it's happening to Rae then it's agonizing. I just want to fix everything. I want her happiness and serenity. I want to give her the world so she can be comfortable in it.

Sometimes I just want to end it all. I haven't wanted to cut this bad in a long time. Nine months since the last time and I don't know how I did it but slowly at first, and now faster, I just want to slice my skin open and let the blood drain out along with my fury; I want it to take away my frustration and sadness and disappointment and my glass-shard red and black RAGE that lately wants to take over.

I feel like I'm shouldering a greater burden than Atlas ever did.

I'm so close to the edge... try not to breathe on me.




Eden.