ultimately

fuck up.

I'm aware I'm a fuck up. I know. It isn't something I'm proud of. I know that when something is going good I burn the bridge because I'm so scared of having something nice for myself. I'm not used to it. I've never had anything nice, so I guess my automated response is to force myself to believe that I don't deserve it. And I know, it's a shitty excuse. I know I'm not a good person. I know that the reason that people stay away from me is because I push them away.
   I can't change what I've done. I really, can't even change myself because in an odd way people don't ever really change. Even if I wanted to, even if I yearned to be someone who everyone truly liked it wouldn't be something I can achieve when my mental illness is constantly screaming at me.
   I don't think many people understand the pain of having borderline personality disorder because they don't have it. It's not something you can empathize with. Not that I want sympathy, I do it to myself unknowingly or not. It's hard because I really am alone. Nobody can truly understand the depths of my emotions and then lengths I go to conceal them, which I suppose is why I come off as a heartless bitch.

  Sometimes I feel like the depths of my emotions are like the sea or something. Vast, undiscovered and easy to drown in. I guess it's like some conquest to try and understand but darling, I don't even understand my own emotions so good luck there.

I guess what I'm trying to elude is the fact that I'm sorry I caused trouble and it ended up like this.