the rant book

mbi

yeah i'm low key about how fucking anxious i am

and sometimes i'm super high key about how fucking anxious i am

sometimes i ask for attention because i need it

other times i fucking don't because i feel like a bad person for doing that

most of the time i'm hard on myself

i wish i wasn't

i wish i say myself the way my friends say they saw me

but other times i do and don't believe they mean things they say and get paranoid

i'm always defensive and nervous

i'm never ready to converse because i'm afraid you'll hate me or i'll say something terrible

i have no sense of identity and i'm always trying to find myself

this is hard. and this is a part of my hpd.

i'm not dressing myself up with falsities to seem more interesting or to excuse things i do.

i wish i didn't constantly wonder if people were growing tired of me, or didn't like me.

i'm not accessorizing myself with a disorder to be trendy or cool.

stop telling me i'm faking it.

you're my mother and if you ever took the time out to listen instead of criticize you'd understand i'm in a constant state of hell and it's not because i want to have a good time.