I heard once that people with Borderline Personality Disorder are the real outcasts. I’ve been thinking about that. I’ve been thinking about my emotions, about explaining things to people and having it completely fly over their head. Left feeling completely frustrated, alone.
It really is true. We are the most misunderstood, stigmatized. I try to explain myself to my boyfriend when I’m feeling someway, and it just doesn’t get through to him. Not really. How could it? You can’t really understand it, not really, unless you have it.
The intense emotions, overpowering you, guiding every fucking action, moment in your life.
The fact that it is so much, that it physically drains you. To the point you can’t even get out of bed or eat, even though you’re hungry.
That you cry when you’re depressed, angry, happy, any emotion that overwhelms you.
That the whole world is falling apart but then the whole world is in the palm of your hand. Or how it constantly fluctuates between the two.
That one second you can completely and utterly love someone and then in the next second for the slightest thing hate them with your every being.
But those don’t compare to the fear that all of these things always leads to your eventual abandonment. In whatever form that may be.
And no one, no one, unless they are like this, have this, understands you. So, you keep it all in. Imploding a thousand times over. Destroying yourself, slowly.